I Got All I Need
Le Sserafim Kim Chaewon (ft. Soloist Jo Yuri & Male Reader)
Categories/warnings: smut, phone sex, masturbation, voyeurism i think, anal, abuse, rough sex, like really really rough sex (kinda)
Word count: 1.6k
a/n: wrote on a whim lol no proofread no beta im sorry anways--
Chaewon lay bored in her bed, having exhausted her SNS feeds and Watch Later playlist. Her members sent all manner of pictures with their families and other friends in the groupchat, and honestly, genuinely, Chaewon was happy for them! And just a teeny bit envious, that's all, cross her heart and hope to die.
Her phone read 6:06 pm, and on her first long weekend off in the year, she had nothing to do. She was getting desperate for some fun. She opened her contacts app and punched in a random number.
"Ah, sorry, Chaewon-ssi," the voice on the other end of the line admitted, "Yena won't be back in Korea until next Friday. I'll let her know you called."
"Hi, this is Eunbi! I can't come to the phone right now. Please leave me a message and I'll get back to you in a jiffy!" Of course she uses an answering machine, Chaewon thought.
"Hi, Unnie!" Chaewon was overjoyed! "Hey Minmin, I was just curious if you were down to eat--" The sound of a bell rang loud in the other side of the phone call. "Oops, I'm really really sorry Unnie. Gotta get back now. Long night ahead of us, they're even killing my character again today! See you soon!"
Looking to her closet, Chaewon's mind was half-set to just put on a warm coat and go out alone. That's a thing people do nowadays, right? Go out and eat by themselves?
Sighing, she went for one last-ditch effort. She knows she won't pick up. She knows that even if she does, she wouldn't want to come out. She knows that if she wants to come out, it'll be shabu-shabu and sitting around by the Han River. "Oh well," Chaewon resigned, "At least I won't be alone."
She scrolled down her contacts and found her name. Tap, tap, tap, and the ringing started. One ring, two, three, and four. Chaewon expected this, so much so that she's not even disappointed.
"H-hello?" Chaewon fought back a gasp! "Hey, hi Yuri! I was going to go out for a bite--"
"Ah, fuck..." Silence filled the phone line for a good few seconds before Yuri's end broke it again. "Shit, th-that's really good."
"Yuri?" "Ffffuck yes, just like that..." Disbelief filled Chaewon's mind. "Sorry," Yuri struggled to whisper, "wh-who is this?"
"It's... It's Chaewo-" "Fuck! Shit, shit, shit, please..."
Chaewon had half a mind to just drop the call then and there, and she should, right? This is one of her best friends in the world. Busy, as they say, with something important.
"Unnie, I'm so sorry, I just have the thickest cock ripping my asshole apart right now, ahhh, oh fuck, OH FUCK!"
Although, as much as Chaewon wants to deny it, dropping the call was out of the question now. She had to know just what exactly was going on.
"Are you okay, Yuri? Do... you need me to call someone?"
"Haahhhhh... Ahh, AHHHH!" Yuri's scream ripped through the phone line, and Chaewon couldn't keep her own free hand from straying anymore.
"Unnie, I... I need y-you... to keep a... a secret," It was hard for Chaewon to decipher what her friend was saying, between every moan and grunt littered across her speech. She couldn't resist, though, that she was paying more attention to them than whatever words could be spilling out of Yuri's mouth.
"I'm... with my... with my boyfriend. He's p-pounding my ass right now..." Chaewon was groping her own ass at that moment, and she could feel herself getting moist.
She heard whispering at the other end. Yuri's voice rang clearer, even if a bit shakier. "He says... if I end the call... he'll tie me up and, and leave me," Yuri's breaths are heavy and laced with exhaustion, "un-until morning. So I'm sorry, but I can't... Mmmmff..."
Chaewon couldn't believe she was getting hot to the sound of her friend getting fucked hard. There was no way pure, sweet, innocent Yuri was like this, right? Absolutely impossible.
And yet, she found her own hand slipping under her panties. She felt her smooth pussy lips, how they were slick against her fingers, and how her insides were starting to burn up.
"Unnie... he's making me tell you..." Chaewon was all ears now, desperate for more.
"I have six inches of cock up my ass... and three ffffingers... in my soaking cunt." Three wouldn't fit, Chaewon thought, so she settled for two inside herself. Her pussy lips parted for them, and Chaewon let out a tiny "mmmh."
"He... he's rubbing my clit, and... AHHH--" Chaewon was palming her own clit as her fingers shoved themselves slowly in and out of her pussy, letting more of her juices out and onto her panties.
"... and he's s-slapping and pinching it, Unnie..." Frustrated and in heat, Chaewon frantically stripped and kicked away both her shorts and panties; they were ruined anyway. She lay comfortably back onto her bed and spread her legs, in prime position for her own missionary fucking, with regrettably nothing more than her left hand.
"And Unnie..." Her former member's deep and heavy breaths occupied the phone line. "P-please... don't let this... change how you see me... God, please, no..."
Chaewon pumped her fingers in and out of her pussy hard now. Her juices were falling all over her bedsheets, and the scent of her sex reaching her nose only spurred her on.
"Yuri... Tell me."
"He... he creampied me, Unnie..." Suddenly, Chaewon's hips lifted off the bed momentarily as she heard this. Her fingers found a good spot as she returned to the bed, and from then on strove to hit it again and again and again.
"More, Yuri-yah... please..." She couldn't hide it anymore, Chaewon was moaning just as loudly now as her beloved friend.
"Th-three times, Unnie... in my ass..." Chaewon's eyes shut tight as her brain locked onto what was being said. "And... six... I think, in my... my pussy... oh- OH GOD!"
Chaewon started grinding against her palm, forcing more pleasure through her crotch. She humped against the air, lifting and dropping her hips in a needy bid for her sweet release.
"FUCK! Unnie, I can't remember-- Shhhhhit, shitshitshitshit... How- how many times he came in my cunt- AHHHH!"
She could hear it so much better now, how her friend's ass slapped against her boyfriend's waist. Yuri's moans rang louder still, pushing her phone's speaker to its limit.
"Unnie, holy fuck, Unnie... Please... don't..." Yuri collected herself for a moment before starting again. "He... he has my-my nipples in clamps, too... It hurts so good, Chaewon-unnie, shit... everything is so good..."
Chaewon struggled against her top, and managed to get all of it up past her chest and under her neck. Her breasts bounced out from under her bra and relaxed. She pinched and squeezed her left nipple as hard as she could, feeling the nub stiffen against her fingertips.
"And I came, Unnie..." Her fingers returned to pleasuring her now-leaking pussy. Chaewon rubbed around her lips to collect more of her slick, before shoving now three of her fingers inside her.
"I came so... so many times. F-fifteen... before I- ahhh- lost c-count." Chaewon found her pace and rhythm again. She pistoned her fingers into and out of her sex as her moans reached the other end of the line too.
"Fuck, Yuri-yah, that sounds so fucking good... I'm close... I'm so close!"
"He's forcing me t-to tell you, Unnie, ahhhhh..."
Chaewon shut her eyes again, wishing, imagining it was her getting the railing of her life. Only now did she realize how big the wet spot on her bed between her legs was.
"I'm... Unnie, I'm... his slut. I'm his ffffuuuckdoll..."
Chaewon was straining herself now, her arm muscles burning with overexertion. She felt her cunt leak so much of her sex all over her hand. She wildly fingered her g-spot, praying that her climax comes soon.
"I'm his pleasure girl, Unnie," Chaewon heard her friend's voice break with sobs between words and moans. "I'm his slutty, hhhorny, p-personal o-onahole..."
At this point, Chaewon was sobbing too. Why couldn't she have a boyfriend like that? Why can't she be the one getting sexually taken advantage of? She even bet she could make Yuri's boyfriend feel worlds better than Yuri ever could.
"I'm his... I'm his slutty fucking cumdump, Unnie! He fucks me raw and creampies my cunt- AHHHHH- and I love when he fills my womb up so much it leaks out of my abused pussy!"
A scream dragged itself across Chaewon's throat, and she made sure both Yuri and her boyfriend heard. Chaewon's arm burned hotter with overfatigue as she was nearly breaking her own pussy with how hard she was pumping. "Fuck, Yuri! Please! I need to cum!"
"Fuck, Unnie, me too! Shit, Unnie, I have to tell you..."
Tears streamed down Chaewon's cheeks now, her crotch and thighs soaked with her slick. She's already lost control of herself and fully gave in to her body's desires, wailing cries and moans that she couldn't even recognize as her own anymore.
"I'm not safe, Unnie! I'm so fucking f-fertile! He's going to make me pregnant! H-he's put- FUCKING SHIT, PLEASE DADDY- He's putting a fucking baby in my womb!!! AAAHHHHHHH!"
"FFFFUCK, YURI! HOLY FUCK I'M CUMMING SO MUCH!!!"
Chaewon's cum sprayed out of her sore cunt in intense streams. Chaewon forcefully pulled her fingers out as her hips convulsed violently, wringing out every last drop of her climax. She kept squirting for what felt like ages, and with every spurt of her girlcum she grew less and less alert.
Her eyes were heavy, and her ears were failing her. Her hands dropped to the sides, as did her waist onto the mattress as her climax overwhelmingly resolved. She grew less and less aware of her heart beating out of her chest, and, finally, passed out naked on her cum-soaked bed.
a/n: lmao jesus christ anyways this wasn't the incest smut i was talking abt that's still in the works
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BEHIND BARS
A/N: this fic is my coping mechanism with my own shit and im more than eager to read your thoughts, because it would help me knowing im not alone with these thoughts. so this one goes out to all the big girlies who struggle with loving themselves!
WORD COUNT: 9k
WARNING: sexual content
SUMMARY: You get stood up by your Tinder date, but at the same time you run into a man who works at the bar and seems to be into you. Or that's what you think when you read his message he wrote to your receipt, asking you to return to the bar the next day.
MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!
You harbor the delusional thoughts of your date getting caught up in something… anything, just a tad more, just so that the heartache comes a few moments later. It stings, probably more than you’d ever admit to anyone, but you can’t help it.
Sitting on the barstool in the dimly lit bar you glue your eyes onto your pornstar martini, the second you’ve had since arriving an hour and about five ‘Where are you?’ texts to Brannon before. All of them sit delivered but unread in your messages. You reach for the glass and finish the drink in two big gulps, the alcohol bringing an almost numbing sensation to your closed up throat, but it fades rather fast.
What hurts the most is that this is not a first date. He met you just three days ago on the coffee date you two arranged once you were over just exchanging messages on that awful dating app you always swear to never download again but end up back on it at one point. It’s not like he would have walked in tonight and could have a shock about your looks, that you do in fact have quite some extra weight, your thighs are thick, curving into your ass that might look good on a better day, but only if it’s covered, because every time you look at it the only thing you see is the stubborn cellulite you can never get rid of. He saw that you’re miles away from having a flat stomach, you weren’t blessed to be the kind of big girl who has a slim waist and beautiful round waist. You often stop in front of the mirror to assess how big your arms look if you wear something sleeveless, how your collarbones only show if you put your hands to your hips and force your shoulders forward to bring them out.
He saw all of these. Yet he suggested meeting again, pulling you into a ridiculous dream that he might be different and you could finally have the burning, passionate love you’ve always dreamed about.
Now it feels more like a nightmare.
“Another one?”
The bartender appears in front of you, one hand on the counter, the other one on his hip as he looks at you with a questioning look. You glance up at him, then at the empty glass and decide to just fuck it and get drunk before going home and raging your fridge for whatever comfort food you can find.
“Sure. Bring a shot as well.”
“Vodka, tequila, rum or…?”
“Vodka sounds fantastic,” you breathe out as you square your shoulders and run a hand through your hair.
The guy nods and then disappears again. While he is making your drink you decide to have a trip to the bathroom. You wave at the bartender to let him know you’ll be back and when he nods you make your way to the back.
You chose the bar for tonight, it’s a nice place, feels intimate and… hot, maybe that’s the word you used when you were here with your girlfriends a few weeks ago. It was the perfect spot for a girly night, but the vibe of the place definitely doesn’t limit it to a strictly feminine spot. There were plenty of men around even then and one mysterious man sent over a whole round of drinks, he remained unknown but he was probably enamored by one of your friends.
You were convinced Brannon would like this place and you could see the two of you curled up in a booth, finally overstepping the awkwardness of being around someone you met online.
Once you’ve done your business you stop in front of the massive mirror next to the sink and have a moment to look at yourself in the overhead lights that bring out everything about your body that you usually fight hard not to think about. You hate it how one inconvenience can make you feel so… ashamed. Hopeless. Worthless.
Truth is, you’re tired. You’ve had enough of these experiences, though it’s only your second time getting stood up, but it goes under the same cases of going completely unnoticed by men in a social setting, ending up instantly in the friendzone no matter what you do, getting the talk of ‘but I see you as a great friend, I hope we can stay friends’ whenever you dare to come clean about your feelings for someone. It sucks the life out of you and you’re not sure if you have any more left to keep trying. Because the chance of ending up alone anyway has been looming over your head for way too long to ignore it and if it ends up being your reality, you’d rather not waste any more time and energy on trying.
When the tears start stinging your eyes you turn on your heels and head out, not wanting to have a full blown breakdown in the middle of a bar. Stepping out to the hallway you’re just about to march back to your previous spot to chug down your drinks shamelessly, but you weren’t expecting anyone to be right outside the door, so you collide into someone just as your heels hit the carpeted floor outside the restroom.
It’s not at all the gracious kind of collision, where the man scoops you into his arms and holds you against his chest to stop you from falling. Out of reflex, your hands do find the guy’s chest, but you push yourself away from him fast and panicked, your back hitting the door that just closed behind you and you’d bet a good amount that your expression reeks of shock and the sadness from previously, which is not a gracious combination.
“I-I’m sorry,” you exhale sharply as your eyes take in the man in front of you.
Tall, well-built in a black, fitted suit with a black silky shirt underneath the jacket, the first few buttons are left undone, teasing a glimpse of tattoos and a thin necklace with pendants hidden from your vision. His brown hair is trimmed, but not enough to conceal how the strands curl and swirl. Pink lips curl into a smile and you can’t decide the color of his eyes because it’s too dark here, but they appear to be light, even despite how big his pupils are as he is staring back at you. He is holding up his hands in front of him, as if he is readying himself to catch you if you decide to fall anyway.
“In a hurry?” he asks and his velvety british accent caresses your ears. You blink at him for a couple of moments dumbly before finding your voice to reply.
“No,” is all you say, to which his smile just widens and you catch his eyes dip down, running along your body before they return to your gaze.
“Be careful then, Angel.”
“Sorry,” you breathe out, finding your balance again as you’re unable to look away from him.
He is the kind of man that catches every female’s attention upon walking into a room, who could easily just cherry pick who he wants, because women line up in front of him just to earn a glance from him. He looks elegant and lively at the same time, but you instantly feel a sense of mystery and darkness linger around them even despite his warm smile. He is nothing like the men you ever dealt with and he is… way out of your league.
Lifting your chin you spare him with one last look before walking away, fighting the urge to look back if he is still there or maybe you just imagined him.
Your drinks are already waiting for you by your seat and you down the shot before you could climb back to your seat. Given the fact that you came with an empty stomach, the alcohol has started working its wonders on you. You feel a low buzz in your chest, a slight numbness in your head and you know the martini in front of you will be your last drink if you want to make it back to your place.
Your thoughts are still circling around the man in the hallway when you spot him again from the corner of your eyes. Down at the end of the bar, he is talking to the bartender who’s been serving you. His jacket is gone, so you see the silky shirt hanging elegantly from his frame, the fabric shimmering in the light that comes from behind the bar, illuminating the wall of expensive bottles showcased. The sleeves are rolled up, revealing that his left arm is heavily tattooed, but the other one has something as well, but half of it is hidden underneath the shirt.
He is helping the bartender unload some bottles into the fridge that’s underneath the counter as the talk. When they are down to the last one he stands up and runs a ring-clad hand through his hair and his eyes move up and catch your gaze before you could look away and pretend like you weren’t ogling him. Your cheeks burn up right away as you snap your eyes back at your drink in front of you. With silent prayers that he won’t come closer, you busy yourself with the only thing you can do: drinking. But just as you lift the glass to your lips you see a black form walk up to where you’re sitting and you can’t stop yourself from looking up at him.
“Can I get you anything else?” he asks with a charming smile, his hands planted onto the counter in front of you, giving you the chance to see the veins running underneath his smooth skin and for a split second you can’t help but imagine what it might feel like to be held by those hands.
“Um, no, I’m good. Thank you.”
“Good,” he repeats, but it drips with something else, something more, something… heavy. “Waiting for someone?”
His question came out of the blue, you weren’t expecting him to strike up a conversation and start it with that. Your muscles tense and suddenly, after being so drawn to keep looking at the man in front of you, it becomes your priority to avoid his gaze at all cost.
“No,” you say shortly and take a sip, no, a gulp from your drink.
What you don’t see is how his face darkens. The smile fades and his eyebrows draw together as he lets his hands fall from the counter and move to cross over his chest.
You expect him to move away from the rather tensed and awkward scene, but he remains standing in the same spot until you notice him turn around, but just to grab two shot glasses, he fills them up with something that could easily be vodka again, but you wouldn’t know because you don’t see the glass he pours from. Then he turns around and places the shots onto the counter, pushing one a little closer to you. When you look up, you see his head a bit tilted, waiting with a questioning look and an unknown sparkle in his eyes that are green, now you’re sure.
“Oh, I shouldn’t… Um…”
“Just this one. As an apology on behalf of the piece of shit who is too blind and idiotic to see what he missed out on.”
Your breath is caught in your throat as you stare back at him. For a second, you let yourself believe that there’s more behind his words, that there’s attraction, lust and desire. For you.
But then your usual mechanism kicks in and your mind is quick to turn it around and convince you it’s not at all like that. He just feels sorry for you, it’s only pity, because a man like him would never be interested in a woman like you.
“Sure,” you whisper with a nod and take the shot. He takes his and holds up, waits for you to do the same.
Then he gives you a nod with a charming, crooked smile and your eyes remain locked on each other as you both take the shots. It’s vodka and it burns, but you don’t even flinch as you put the glass back onto the counter and watch him snatch it away. He is just about to say something when the bartender calls out for him from the end of the bar, but because you weren’t listening, you miss what his name is. He looks back at you once more and then walks away.
You don’t see him for the rest of the time you spend there. Finishing the drink you ask to close your tab and then you’re getting ready to leave when the bartender slips the receipt over to you. At first you don’t even pay any attention to it, but then you notice something is different about it. You grab it from the counter and then read the words scribbled onto it with a black marker.
Please come back tomorrow.
You feel like an idiot all day. Trying to keep yourself busy by cleaning and cooking, no matter what you do you always find yourself looking at that damn receipt, reading the words over and over again. Since you left the bar yesterday until this moment, you’ve thought of every possible scenario why he would ask you to return. Realistic ones, ridiculous versions, you thought of them all, but somehow you always ended up settling on the same one, even despite the fact your mind has been fighting hard not to let you believe he could want anything from you.
It grinds your nerves all day until you decide to act on it. You put on a pair of jeans and a simple black shirt with your trusty sneakers, nothing extra, very far from looking fancy and then head back to the bar before you could talk yourself out of it.
It’s the afternoon on a Sunday, it’s no surprise the place is deserted when you walk in, only a handful of people are lingering around here and there in contrast to the buzz it had yesterday. You try your best to settle the uneasy feeling in your gut as you walk up to the bar. There’s a woman standing behind this time who you didn’t see last night. She’s drying glasses with a cloth since there’s not much to do without anyone sitting on the stools.
“Hi, what can I get you?” she asks with a bright smile as you walk up to her.
“Um, I was wondering if the guy who worked last night was working today? Brown hair, tattoos… I don’t… know his name.”
It’s an understatement to say you feel awkward asking around about the guy even though he practically asked you to come back. At least he could have given you his name to avoid appearing like a stalker.
The woman furrows her eyebrows as she purses her lips, tilting her head.
“I swear I’m not here to make a scene or anything,” you add with a nervous laugh.
“Ah, I was just thinking. Because I know for a fact that Nico was working last night, but he for sure has no tattoos.”
You swear you saw the tattoos on his chest and arms, you did not just imagine those, but now you’re doubting yourself.
“He, uhh, he wore, like, a black suit and a black, silky shirt… Rings…” This is as far as you can go describing him without adding details you’d rather keep to yourself. Like how his hands looked delicate but rough at the same time, the way his lips curled when he smiled could push all the air out of your lungs and his smooth, velvety voice was like you were wrapped into a warm, soft blanket whenever he talked.
Luckily, you see her face light up at the last few details you just said.
“Oh! You must be…” She doesn’t finish it, just lets her smile stretch wide as she squares her shoulder. “Let me grab him for you,” she then winks and before you could get another word out, she disappears.
Laying your hands flat on the bar top you start drumming nervously as you wait. A thought flashes through your mind that it was a mistake coming here, trying to convince you to just leave before it’s too late, but you fight it and shove it to the back of your head, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as you pull your hands back and start rubbing your palms against your thighs.
A few seconds later the woman appears from the back with the same wide smile and just when you start to think the man is not here, he follows her out, turning your sanity upside down with just a simple look.
He is wearing a black t-shirt this time, short sleeved, putting his previously mentioned tattoos on perfect display. The shirt is tucked into a pair of gray dress pants that hug his waist so well, you’re drawn to stare at his body for a few moments as he moves closer behind the bar.
The bartender woman passes you while the man stops in front of you, a cheeky, but genuine smile tugging on his lips as he leans onto the counter just like how he did yesterday, only this time you see his muscles flex from the movement thanks to the short sleeves.
“What a pleasure to welcome you back.”
Your knees threaten to give up for a second from hearing his voice again, as if it’s proof that you didn’t just make him up last night, he is not just a mirage.
Reaching into your purse you pull the receipt out and slide it over to him.
“You invited me back.”
“I did,” he nods, not even glancing down at the piece of paper, like he doesn’t need to be reminded of what he did. “But I didn’t know you’d actually return.”
Unsure what to say, you allow yourself to assess him, take in his perfectly carved features, the unruly curls, the rings adorning his inviting hands. If you were on your own, just looking at a picture of him, you’d definitely tell yourself it’s too good to be true that a man like him would ever pay you any attention. But having him standing in front of you, feel his burning gaze on you, this magnetic pull that vibrates from him, you’re battling yourself harder than ever.
“I was curious,” you admit at last.
“Then I’m happy to satisfy your curiosity. Why don’t we sit down?” he asks, gesturing towards one of the booths by the wall.
“Won’t you get into trouble?” you ask, but he just gives you a toothy smile as he shakes his head.
“Don’t worry about that, Angel. Go ahead and sit, I’ll make us a drink.”
Once you’re turned away and walking towards a booth you let out a long, shaky breath.
“Get a grip,” you tell yourself as you slide into the booth and try to get comfortable. It’s frustrating a man could have an effect this powerful on you after barely even talking to him. What kind of black magic is he practicing?
A few minutes later you see him walking over to you with two drinks in his hands. One is obviously a pornstar martini for you, the other one you don’t know. It’s in a simple, short glass, one big cube of ice, the drink itself is a nice amber color, you spot a curl of orange peel and some fresh rosemary in it.
He slips into the booth with ease and moves closer to you than you expected as he places the drinks to the table.
“Might be best if we started with our names,” he suggests. “I’m Harry.”
His name rolls off his tongue so ravishingly, you have to stop yourself from repeating after him. He holds out a hand for you that you take. Your skin starts tingling the moment it meets with his warm touch.
“Y/N.”
“Such a pleasure to meet you, Y/N,” he nods, giving your hand a squeeze before letting it go.
While you feel a bit awkward, trying to find a way to sit beside him, it appears he is quick to find his place, crossing one leg over the other, his arm closer to you is stretched over the back of the booth, his hand falling somewhere behind you, but it’s not touching you. His other hand is gently playing with his drink, twirling it between his fingers.
“I know it’s probably not the best thing to start with, but I just have to ask. Last night, were you stood up?”
All your blood rushes to your head and your palms start sweating as you turn your head away embarrassed. You’ve been so caught up in him that you kind of forgot about what Brannon did.
“Yes,” you whisper, hands dropping into your lap as you nervously fidget with your fingers.
The hand that’s been behind you moves to the side of your face, his knuckles gently brushing across your cheek, just enough to make you turn your head and look at him.
“Don’t even think for a moment his behavior lessens your worth.”
“I’m not so sure if there’s any left of that to lessen.”
The words leave your mouth before you could even think them through, surprising you with their bluntness. You’re not one to share such personal thoughts with a stranger, not even your closest friends.
Harry stares at you with an unreadable expression and you half expect him to just let it slip and not acknowledge what you said. But he sticks to that in a way you never experienced.
“I would give an arm to have the chance to show how much I see just after spending only minutes with you.”
You’re speechless and from the hidden smile you notice in the corners of his mouth you assume he finds it entertaining, witnessing the effect he has on you. He grabs his drink from the table and you watch him lazily take a sip before placing it back and leaning forward, getting closer to you, but still not quite crossing an invisible line between the two of you.
“Y/N, I know this is very straight-forward and I’m aware that we are very much just strangers at this point, but I’m more than eager to change that.”
“Why?” you hear yourself asking in an airy, weak voice. “Because you’re sorry for me?”
Now it’s his turn to be taken aback. The way he frowns almost makes you want to apologize even for asking.
“Sorry is the last thing I’m feeling right now. And it wasn’t what I felt when you bumped into me last night or when I wrote that message to your receipt. Or… when I sent over that round of drinks to you and your friends not long ago.”
“You what?”
“You were here, maybe a few weeks ago, with your friends, right?”
“I-I was, but…”
“The round of drinks. I sent it.”
“Why?” you ask again and notice the amusement in his look.
“The same reason I wanted you to return today. Because take my breath away and I never give up on the chance to get to know whoever has that effect on me.”
You stare back at him blankly, a million thoughts racing in your head while also not able to put together a coherent one. It is everything you ever wished to experience, but it also feels incredibly odd and… wrong.
“What kind of twisted game is it you’re playing?”
Harry furrows his eyebrows slightly.
“None. Why are you questioning my intentions so passionately?”
“Because it’s ridiculous,” you say with a bitter laugh, shaking your head as you grab your drink and take two gulps, hoping the alcohol might help you untangle the mess in your head.
“How is my interest in you ridiculous?”
“Because it is. You cannot sell me that you spotted me among my friends last time, that I was the one who caught your attention and that when you saw me last night again you just had to take your chance to lure me here again so you could talk to me. It’s absolutely ridiculous.”
He stays silent and you don’t look at him for a bit, trying to calm your rocketing pulse. But his silence starts to drive you mad again, so you turn to face him and see that unreadable expression on his face again.
“You’re invalidating my attraction just because you haven’t received it before.”
It’s like he is reading you like you’re an open book, he looks at you and you can feel him raiding through your mind and you can do nothing against it.
“It’s actually sad but also exciting to be the first one to give it to you.”
“But why me?” you keep pushing.
“Why do you like pornstar martini?” he asks with a cheeky smile and you decide to ignore how erotic that sounded from him.
“What?”
“You choose it because you like it, yeah? Why?”
“Because… I don’t know, it tastes… good,” you answer, complete confusion taking over you.
“See, that is why you. I don’t know it just yet, but I just know that…” He doesn’t finish, but you can hear the rest.
I just know you taste good.
The all too familiar pulse between your legs is making you cross your legs underneath the table, but Harry catches the movement and his grin grows wide, but he doesn’t comment on it, just takes a sip of his drink.
“We took it very intensely quite suddenly. Let’s just talk and we can return to this matter a bit later,” he suggests then softly, losing that tiny cockiness from his voice for now. “What is there to know about you, Y/N?”
You need a bit of time to recover and actually start telling him about yourself. He asks you about your job, your family, your hobbies, what you like and what you hate, all while giving you his full, undivided attention. Even though he has made it clear he is interested in you, somehow you end up taking the situation with even more caution than usually, but slowly and almost unnoticed, it eases from your gut.
“Now it’s your turn,” you say, once you’ve had enough of talking about yourself. Just as he is about to start talking, the bartender shows up at the table and you’re convinced she’ll ask him to go back to work.
“Boss, the supplier was on the phone, they need confirmation until tomorrow morning.”
Boss?
“Thanks Jenny,” Harry smiles up at her warmly. “I’ll take care of it.” The bartender, Jenny as you learned, nods and then disappears. When Harry looks back at you, it’s apparent he was expecting the questioning look from you.
“Boss? Did I hear that right?”
“Absolutely did,” he chuckles.
“So you’re…”
“I won this place. Along with another one downtown and two more over on the West coast.”
You click your tongue as you turn away to have a look around, though you’ve examined the place enough before. It’s not the kind that screams ‘this is my first business, it’s doing fairly well’, but rather one that screams wealth and business. The bar itself is definitely high end, but it’s also connected to the hotel above, so it drives in some great traffic from there as well and of course, it’s a five star hotel, so the guests are usually not the kind who shies away from paying for a nice drink. Adding just the thought of three more places similar to this to the picture is just plainly mind-blowing to you.
And yet, just minutes ago you were convinced he’s a bartender here.
“You knew I thought you were staff when I asked if you’d get into trouble.” Harry nods. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“Because that would have immensely changed the dynamic.”
“No, I–”
“Yes,” he fights back with a meaningful look. “You had a hard time believing I could be interested in you when you thought I was a bartender here. Had you known I owned this place you would have never let go of the power imbalance that comes with the judgment of my position in my business.”
You want to protest, but you can’t. Because you know it well that he is actually right.
To ease the sudden change in the mood, Harry starts talking about himself and the business as he can tell you’re curious how he ended up as the boss. He tells you how it all started in college, he and a few of his friends came up with the idea of opening a bar and once they graduated he and the one remaining friend who was still into the idea decided to act on it. Niall, the friend, earned a great amount of money from his trust fund after graduation, which they used to the last cent to open the place ten years ago. Feeling guilty that he couldn’t bring as much money into the business in the beginning, Harry tried to make up for it by working twice as hard. As time passed and they opened the second place three years later, Niall started to wander to different fields and only remained a silent partner in the business, letting Harry take over fully. The expansion on the West coast happened just two years ago, but they are already thinking about the next location.
“Are you still friends?” you ask him.
“With Niall? Yes, absolutely. He has his own company in IT security that he actually started from the money of this business. It’s more his world than this now, but we try to meet at least every month when we are in the same city. And I still need his signature on some stuff,” he adds with a chuckle.
“That’s great it didn’t ruin your friendship. Working together can be risky.”
“I know. We had our ups and downs for sure, but nothing we couldn’t talk through.”
It was amazing to see him talk about it so profound and passionately. It makes him so… humane.
His phone buzzes in his pocket and when he pulls it out, he sighs quietly. He ignores the call, but when he looks at you again you know he has to go.
“Y/N, we need to revisit what we talked about earlier, because I have to go soon.”
Your cheeks heat up instantly as you roll your lips into your mouth.
“What about it?”
“Most importantly we need to talk about when we can meet again.”
You look at him from the corner of your eyes and can’t hold back a smile when you see his cheeky grin as he sits turned towards you, his upper body angled to face you completely.
“The most convenient would be tomorrow,” he adds shamelessly.
“So soon?”
“I wanted to say I would love to see you in about three hours when we close, but I didn’t want to come off as too eager.”
That makes you laugh and Harry gifts you with a proud, crooked smile.
“Are you sick of this place?”
“Why?”
“Because you could come here tomorrow and I could teach you how to make your drink,” he says, nodding towards your now empty glass. You actually love the idea of that, doing something new in a not so new setting.
“I can be here by seven.”
“I’ll be waiting for you behind the bar.”
You have never been this eager to put down work at five finally. It doesn’t matter that you still have a few unanswered emails in your inbox, you decide they can wait until tomorrow.
You haven’t stopped thinking about Harry since you left the bar yesterday. You can’t even remember the last time you were like this, probably in high school when you had a crush in junior year. It’s ridiculous, honestly, but it’s also quite exciting.
You walk into the bar for the third time in the past three days. You would have guessed that a Monday evening would be just as eventful as Sunday, but apparently a lot of people like to go out for drinks on the first day of the week. It’s not like on Saturday, but about half of the tables are taken. Crossing the place you’re heading straight to the bar, searching for one particular tall figure, but you don’t see him.
Nico, the bartender from Saturday, is on shift again, though as you reach the bar he doesn’t seem to recognize you.
“Hi, what can I get you?”
You’re just about to ask him to tell Harry that you arrived when the familiar, velvety voice speaks up right behind you.
“I have the lady covered, thanks Nico.”
Turning around you’re met with Harry’s warm but cheeky smile as he stands just a couple of feet away from you. Today he is wearing a pair of black dress pants with a black long sleeve, but the sleeves are rolled up above his elbows. There’s a light stubble darkening his jawline, he surely skipped shaving this morning, but you’re not mad about it, it adds a bit of roughness to him.
“Welcome back, Y/N,” he nods at you.
“Hi,” is all you manage to push out of yourself. He is very much aware of your nervousness, but it just widens his smile.
“Ready to master the pornstar martini?” he asks as he steps closer and places a hand to the small of your back to usher you behind the bar.
“Absolutely.”
The two of you settle at the end of the bar so you’re not disturbing the actual service with your little scene. Harry hands you a black apron and he puts one on himself as well after helping you tie yours behind your back. Then the learning starts.
Harry is actually a great bartender himself. As he gathers everything you need for the drink, he tells you how he learned to bartend after opening the place. They had a few times when they fell short on staff and he needed to serve, so he figured it’s best if he just learns it fully rather than just clumsily mixing up the drinks whenever help is needed.
“What’s your favorite to make?” you ask as you’re cutting the passion fruit in two on a cutting board and Harry examines your every move like a good mentor.
“I think it’s Rum Martinez.”
“What’s that like?”
“It’s a Japanese cocktail, pretty smoky and kind of complicated to make. I’ve had it twice, it was always served with a cigar. I only made it once though, but it was fun.”
Harry truly meant it when he said you’d learn how to make your drink. He doesn’t touch anything in the mixing process, only instructs you, clear and patiently as you add the right amounts into the shaker. When you put the top of the shaker on however, he moves behind you and as his arms come round you to grab the shaker along with you, for a few seconds you definitely forget to breathe.
This close you can smell his cologne, the warmth of his body is melting you against him and when you lean back just the slightest bit he pushes forward to tighten the physical connection between the two of you.
“Alright. Now, this is how you shake it properly,” he murmurs, his face right next to yours as his hands cover yours on the shaker.
You let him take the lead as he starts shaking, his warm palms holding your hand against the cool shaker, moving it up and down, left and right in a controlled, rhythmic way. He is giving it quite the force, you feel the ice inside tumble harshly as you keep shaking.
“Okay, now take the cap off.”
He lets go of the shaker, but remains standing behind you as he instructs you. You do as he said and he reaches past you to bring the glass closer for you.
“Carefully, but with confidence” he murmurs, one hand moving to cover yours when you start pouring, but too slowly, so he helps you to tilt the right amount. The beautiful yellow liqueur fills up the glass with a perfect layer of foam on top.
“And finally, the passion fruit.”
He points at the fruit on the cutting board and you take one half, gently dropping it into the middle and watch as it stays afloat with pride.
“There. You just made your first pornstar martini.”
Harry steps away from behind you and you almost protest, eager to feel his warmth behind you as he comes into your view again, watching you bring the drink to your lips. You take a sip and once you taste it, you can’t hold your smile back.
“It’s amazing.”
“All yours,” he dips his head a bit with a bright smile and you can’t look away from his sparkling eyes.
The foam of the drink sticks to your upper lip so when you put the glass down you run your tongue over, licking it off and you catch him watching your mouth with obvious hunger, as if he is ready to have a taste from the cocktail, but only from your lips.
The moment burns and you feel it deep in your chest. Almost unnoticed, you both inch closer and you feel an irresistible pull towards him. Your heart is drumming in your throat and the muscles in your torso tense even at just the thought of kissing him.
But right when you are about to cross the line Nico’s curse pops your bubble and Harry’s head whips around in alert.
“Shit!” you see Nico jump back from the counter, one hand wrapped around the other, a cutting board with lemons and a knife left behind.
“What happened?” Harry asks, grabbing a rag as he steps closer to assess the situation.
“I wasn’t paying attention and cut my finger,” Nico hisses and you step closer just in time to see him showing the cut. It doesn’t look bad, but it’s bleeding quite heavily.
“Go and clean it out. I’ll cover the bar.”
Nico mumbles a quick thanks as he rushes back before he could bleed on anything behind the bar. Just as he exits, two women walk up to Harry, who switches into bartender mode pretty fast. He gives you a quick ‘I’m sorry’ glance as he takes their order and starts mixing up their drinks. You just give him a reassuring smile and focus on your drink, patiently waiting.
At first you don’t even pay attention to the conversation the two women strike up with him. But as Harry starts serving a man who walked up to the bar after them you notice how they stayed there and it makes you wonder so you turn your attention to their sugar coated voices.
“Oh, then we feel honored to be served by the big boss,” the blonde one chuckles, leaning forward just enough so that his shirt tugs down, teasing the view of her cleavage.
“Just… helping in,” Harry gives a tight-lipped smile, barely even glancing at her as he makes the cocktail.
“See, I told you it'll be worth coming here on a Monday,” the other one giggles as she gently sways to the soft music that’s playing through the speakers.
It’s a sight that’s an easy trigger for you. They did nothing wrong other than flirting with a man they find attractive. And you know Harry barely even acknowledged their efforts, but still, it was enough to let that evil little voice out of its cage in the back of your mind.
They are gorgeous and you’re nothing like them. They are thin and looking around you already see a dozen men looking at them. You can never be like them.
Deep down you know these thoughts are worthless, but once they take over it’s hard to fight them, to see yourself in a better light. Not when you’ve struggled with this for so long and spent long years to convince yourself it’s all that matters.
There’s nothing left of the free spirit you were just minutes ago. When this happens you simply close off and want to disappear as fast as possible. For a moment you think of just leaving while Harry is not paying attention, but you’d hate to walk out on him like that so you stay there, trying to take up as little space as physically possible as you finish your drink.
Nico soon comes back, his left ring finger bandaged up, ready to get back to work, which means Harry is free from bar duty again. He doesn’t hesitate to walk away from the two women and return to you, but you’ve let your spiraling thoughts win by now.
He notices something is wrong the moment he sees you avoid looking into his eyes.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, dipping his head to try to get you to look at him.
“Nothing,” you shake your head, but it’s a weak attempt to mask just how uncomfortable you’re feeling.
“Y/N, I know that’s not true. What happened?”
“Nothing happened,” you push, then take a deep breath to help you swallow the bitterness in your mouth.
There’s a few seconds of pause when you’re convinced he’ll say to end the date and then you already see yourself never coming here to avoid ever running into him. The voice in the back of your mind is already working hard to convince you it’s for the best, that it would have never worked, you’re way too different and sooner or later he would see you the way you see yourself.
But it never happens. Instead, he silently packs away everything you used for the cocktail and when he’s done, he gently takes your hand and starts to pull you towards the door that leads out to the hotel’s lobby. Confused, but curious, you follow him and don’t say a word until the two of you stop at the elevators.
“Harry, where are we going?”
“Up. To my suite.”
“You have a suite here?”
“I do. Comes with the perks of owning the bar that’s part of the hotel.”
His hand is still holding yours, warm and gentle, but still confident, especially when he tightens his hold as the elevator arrives and he pulls you inside, pushing the button of the 18th floor. He doesn’t let go of you as the elevator starts moving, you just stand there next to each other without a word until it arrives and the doors slide open.
Harry once again pulls you with him, striding down the carpeted hallway to the door with the number 1804 next to it. He fishes out a card from his pocket and taps it against the lock that clicks silently, letting him open the door and that’s when his hand falls from yours, letting you walk in first as he holds the door open for you.
You haven’t been to a hotel this elegant, not as a guest at least. You’ve attended a few conferences but you could only see the lobby and the conference rooms during those, not the rooms or in this case, the suites.
You walk into a spacious living room with a minibar, dark purple couches facing the TV mounted onto the wall, the floor-to-ceiling windows giving an impeccable view of the city lights. There’s a door on the left and the right, one is probably leading to the bedroom, the other one must be the bathroom and though the doors are closed, you can imagine how good they must be designed.
The suite is definitely not untouched, you see signs of Harry here and there, the envelopes on the coffee table, the single used mug next to them, some sort of hoodie thrown over the back of one of the armchairs and a Macbook lying on the desk next to the TV.
“It’s permanently reserved for me. I spend so much time at the bar, it’s easier if sometimes I don’t have to drive all the way home and can just stay here,” he explains as you walk further inside, stopping by the window to have a look at the view.
Slowly, you turn around and look at him with your arms crossed over your chest.
“Why are we here?”
He is standing a few feet away, his hands hidden in his pockets, but his stance feels welcoming and open even despite your closed off behavior.
“To be alone. I don’t want the circumstances to bother you. I know things can get overwhelming sometimes.”
You remain still, not sure what to say or do. It really has been overwhelming, but only because sometimes your own mind turns against you and there’s nothing you can do about it.
Harry pulls his hands out of his pockets and cautiously takes a few steps closer to you, but still leaves a bit of space between the two of you.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks so softly, it almost makes you want to cry, because he doesn’t feel real, nothing does when it’s about him. You’re so set on how unmatching you feel around him that it’s almost impossible to think otherwise now.
“I don’t see it,” you reply in a whisper.
“See what?”
“I don’t see what you see in me. I only see my version of myself and it’s… not good.”
The tears are stinging your eyes. You have probably never said these words out loud, but somehow, you feel safe enough with Harry to bring this side of you out, though the fear that he might get fed up with it is still strong in the pit of your stomach.
You have no idea what kind of reaction you were expecting from him, to be honest you couldn’t imagine a version where he stands his ground and doesn’t agree with all the awful things you harbor about yourself.
But then he steps closer, his hands gently cupping your face in them as he angles your head so you’re looking up at him, holding you like that, forcing you to keep your eyes on him.
“I want to show you. How I see you.”
His hands slide down to your neck, his thumbs are underneath your chin to keep you in place, his gaze dipping down to your lips a couple of times before settling on your eyes, waiting, silently asking for permission and though you don’t say a single word he understands you.
His first kiss is brief, but confident. His lips press against yours and they open slowly, just enough so that his tongue can tease you before he pulls back, though he doesn’t move far, his nose is still brushing against yours. Opening your eyes you find him looking at you, his otherwise light and bright eyes are now several shades darker, lust dripping from the curled up ends of his lashes as he waits for you to make up your mind whether you want to go further or not. Somehow, his black magic must have worked enough on you to mute that evil voice in the back of your head, the absence of it giving you the chance to give yourself into the moment.
You push up against him this time eagerly, open mouth meeting his and he’s quick to react with just as much passion.
One of his hands moves down to your waist and when his fingers dig into the soft flesh you can’t hold back a moan that’s immediately swallowed by him. You fist his shirt, desperately trying to pull closer even though he is entirely pressed up against you.
Blindly he starts moving, pulling you with him, your kiss never breaking as you move around the couch. Then his lips leave yours and you’re forced to open your eyes just as he sits down on the couch, his hands grabbing the back of your thighs as he pulls you between his knees and he kisses your stomach through the fabric of your shirt. Out of reflex you try to pull away or avert him somewhere else, but his hands squeeze your thighs as his eyes snap up to meet your gaze.
“How I see you, remember? Let me show you,” he reminds you and though every inch of you is screaming to pull away, you stay.
Harry pushes your shirt up and unbuttons your pants before his hands grab you by the waist. He twists you around and pulls you down on him, so you end up lying half on top of him with your back pressed against his chest.
“Harry,” you gasp when his right hand starts to slip into your pants and then under your underwear, but his other hand falls to your heaving chest as if he could calm your jumping pulse with just one touch.
“Tell me if you want me to stop, I don’t want to push anything on you.” His lips are by your ear that brushes against them when you nod and just let him do whatever he wants.
When two of his fingers slip between your wet folds, your lips part with a sigh, your head rolling back to his shoulder just from his touch. He is gentle but determined, starts off by just moving those two fingers up and down, gently applying some pressure at the perfect spots before keep moving. Then they settle on your clit and start drawing circles in a slow pace, playing with the pressure once again, setting your nerves on fire.
You keep moaning and gasping as you still lie on top of him, his other hand moves underneath your shirt, but it doesn’t go further up just yet, only remains flat on your skin. You can’t stop your body from falling into a rhythm, hips buckling, spine arching with certain movements, especially when he starts to gradually increase his pace.
When a tiny shock rides through your body with a rougher movement one of your hands grabs onto his thigh by your side, fingers digging into his muscles, earning a deep grunt from him that rumbles right underneath you.
Your other hand snaps to his wrist as you completely lose control over yourself and push his hand a bit further, showing him where and how you need him the most and he is quick to pick up on the clues and add to the sensation.
“Y/N, Angel, let go for me,” he whispers into your ear and while his hand between your legs doesn’t stop for a moment, the other one finally inches up and cups your breast, kneading it sensually.
“Harry, I–Ah!” You’ve lost your ability to voice a coherent thought. You have none, the feelings Harry is making you feel have taken over you entirely.
“I know, I know,” he murmurs and when you turn your head he doesn’t hesitate to capture your lips in a deep kiss and while you’re eager to return it, you lose control over your movements when you feel your orgasm tipping you over the edge. It stretches and teases and then it washes over you like a tidal wave.
Gasping for air, your back arches and your nails dig into his wrist and thigh, you hear him say something but his words are tuned out, you hear or see nothing, only feel.
But you feel everything.
You have no idea how long it takes for you to calm down and come back to real life. When it happens you realize Harry’s hand has moved away from between your legs and both of them are placed on your stomach, his fingers gently brushing against your skin in a slow rhythm.
When you find your strength you wiggle around until you’re lying on your stomach, facing him. Even though you were the only one who benefited from the scene you just experienced, you see a deep satisfaction etched across his face as his lips break out into a smile.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” you chuckle and pushing yourself up you stretch your neck until your lips meet his. This kiss is different, it’s gentle and slow, but just as meaningful as the ones before.
“So,” he starts as he reaches up, running his fingers down the side of your face. “Did you see what I see?”
“I… felt it,” you say, part of you afraid of his reaction. But as you watch him, all you see is that same sweet, charming smile you’ve seen from him so many times before.
“That’s a start.”
“Yeah.”
“And I’m more than happy to work on it until you really see it.”
Staring at him, you search for something. Anything that gives away the slightest sign that gives away that he is not being genuine, but you find none and it feels heavier than if you did. Completely touched by his words the tears start dwelling in your eyes.
“Where have you been?” you ask in just a whisper.
“Well…” he breathes out, locking you in his arms. “Behind bars the past ten years,” he says and there’s a heartbeat of silence as you both realize what he just said and the duality of it.
You both burst out in laughter at the same time.
“Not like that!” he shakes his head.
“I guess there are a lot I don’t know about you, that’s fair.”
“And do you want to know more?” He challenges you. Your laughter fades into just a soft smile.
“I do. Do you want to know more about me?”
“Everything. I want to know everything.”
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!
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the re-do, pt. 2 | m.s. |
matt sturniolo x fem!reader
summary: one more time won't hurt anyone...right?
warnings: SMUT!!!; established friendship; unprotected p in v; fingering; dirty talk; choking; hair pulling; slapping; sneaking around; 18+
notes: here it isssss. in honour of almost hitting 1000 followers (WHAT?!?!?!), i wanted to release a part 2 to my most loved fic!! im currently posting this less than 24 hours before i leave for my trip to europe (yay!!), but unfortunately it'll be the last one i'll be posting for a while. saying that, i'll be back home august 1st and knowing me ill want to get right back into writing, so pls feel free to continue to drop requests over the next few weeks (as long as ur okay with waiting for a while!!!). thanks so much for all the love ya'll, ur the ones who make this whole thing so much fun!!
─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─
Walking up to the triplets’ front door, I didn’t knock before turning the knob and entering the warm, familiar home. Nick, Matt, and Chris were finally home in Boston for a few weeks, and I was so excited to see them for the first time in months. They had just landed this afternoon, and although I told them I could give them some time to settle in, I couldn’t stop myself from driving over to theirs as soon as Nick sent me a photo of Trevor; proof that they were home and settled in enough.
“There she is!” Mary-Lou’s cheerful voice greeted me once I walked up the steps and into the kitchen. I didn’t have a chance to say hello before her arms were wrapped tightly around my frame; embracing me in a comforting hug. “How are you sweetheart?” She asked once she released me from her grip. I smiled. “I’m good! I’ve missed you all though.” I replied as she rubbed her hands up and down my arms affectionately. “I’ve missed you too! You hungry? I’m just finishing up some Shepard’s pie.” She walked back over to the oven, opening it slightly to check on its contents. “You know I could never turn down your Shepard’s pie.” I laughed.
“Where are the guys?” I asked, peering at the closed kitchen door. “Oh, they’re in the living room. I had to lock them out of here, they were driving me nuts!” She chuckled, pulling the casserole out of the oven. “You go ahead.” She urged, gesturing to the closed door. Sending her a warm smile, I opened the door and my eyes immediately fell on my three best friends sitting together on the couch in the living room.
“Y/n!” Shouted Nick, throwing his hands up in the air from his place on the couch. Matt and Chris both simultaneously peeled their eyes away from the screen and looked in my direction; their faces lighting up in smiles immediately before they all stood up to greet me. I hurried over to them and went in to hug Nick first, Chris next, then finally Matt.
I hadn’t seen Matt since the last time I visited them in Los Angeles, which also happened to be the time when him and I had fucked after filming their rated r Youtube video. Just like the time we had lost our virginities to each other, we hadn’t let the sex interfere with our friendship at all, and things hadn’t really changed in any way. Obviously, thanks to Matt’s failure at muting the Discord server, Chris and Nick were much too aware of exactly what had happened that night. But besides the painfully awkward morning after when I walked out of Matt’s room to find them eating breakfast — both avoiding eye contact with me entirely — things were fine with them as well. Once we spoke to Nick and Chris about it, we had convinced them both — as well as ourselves — that what had happened that night was simply a fleeting moment of nostalgia brought on by talking about our first time together.
But I would be lying if I said that as soon as I felt Matt’s hands on me I didn’t feel a shiver down my spine; or that when he whispered a breathy “I miss you” in my ear, I didn’t want to tear all of his clothes off right then and there. The sex we had that night, although spontaneous and probably wrong, was the best sex I had ever had. Once I left Los Angeles and made it back to Boston, I had fucked a handful of other guys — just trying to come even slightly close to feeling the way I had that night — only to be left feeling more and more disappointed. Matt and I knew each other far too well, and in some way it was like our bodies were tied to the other — first by losing our virginities to one another but then furthered by the crazy sex we had years later. I had accepted the fact that sex just wasn’t ever gonna be like that again, but now feeling him pressing against me, all of that acceptance just immediately vanished.
“How’s mom doing on dinner?” Chris asked, startling me out of my trance and walking in the direction of the kitchen door as I pulled away from Matt. “I think it’s almost done. But I was told you were banished from the kitchen, so stay away please.” I replied, walking over to him and tugging on his arm to draw him away from the door. Just then, the door opened and Mary-Lou appeared holding her own plate of food. “Please don’t destroy my kitchen.” Was all she said as she walked to the dining table with her plate, sighing as she did.
𓆩☆𓆪
After we all polished off the Shepard’s pie, we ended up on the couch watching a hockey game. I had curled up in a blanket between Matt to my right and Chris to my left, and was bathing in the contentment of just sitting with them in their family home, just like we did as kids. Even though I couldn’t give a shit less about whatever was happening on the screen, I couldn’t help but smile when one of them would scream, curse, or cheer as the game continued. As Chris was doing just that, I was pulled from my languid stupor by Matt tugging on the blanket that was wrapped around me; clearly wanting to share.
After spending some time with the guys, my filthy thoughts of Matt began to dissipate. After months of not seeing them, I had far too much time to stew over all of the flashbacks I got; causing me to create a certain image of him in my mind that had differed to the one I had of him before. But, after spending time with him in-person, I was reminded of the fact that he’s the same old Matt that I’ve known for years, and I was just too caught up in that one night.
Then, as if he was reading my mind, I felt fingertips gently graze my right thigh under the blanket. Immediately, my body began to react, and every place he touched felt like it was being set on fire. I gulped, and adjusted myself slightly before forcing my eyes to focus on the screen in front of me; deciding that ignoring these touches was the best thing that I could do. Still, he was relentless. His hand continued to travel all across my thigh, just a whisper of contact as if he knew it would drive me crazy. I shuddered, but played it off by pulling the blanket against me as if I was cold. Even though I knew he could tell that I was affected by his touch, I knew that my lack of acknowledgement was surely driving him crazy. My hunch was confirmed when he brushed his fingers lightly against my clothed heat; causing me to intake a sharp breath that I had to immediately hide with a cough.
This caught Chris’ attention, and he fixed his gaze on me. “You okay Y/n?” He asked, and I nodded frantically. “Mhmm. Just a cough.” My response was hitched as Matt’s fingers continued to tease me, and as soon as Chris fixed his gaze back on the tv, I grabbed his hand under the blanket and held it still; turning to give him a sharp glare. Once I turned to face him, I was met with a taunting smirk that caused something to stir inside of me. He then used his eyes to wordlessly gesture to the staircase; clearly proposing that we go upstairs.
I’m not sure how I gained the self control, but somehow I was able to shake my head sternly before drawing my attention once again back to the game. His hand stayed still, but it still rested on my thigh and I could feel myself vibrating under his touch. Then, he retracted his hand from the blanket and I had to stop myself from groaning from the loss of contact; knowing that I shouldn’t want to feel it again. From the corner of my eye, I saw him unlock his phone and felt myself relax slightly knowing that he had something to distract him.
Think again.
I felt my own phone vibrate in the pocket of my hoodie, and reaching under the blanket, I pulled it out to find a text from no other than Matt.
Matt: I need you
I had to fight to keep my jaw from dropping at his text, and I turned to face him but found him looking straight ahead at the game. Sighing, I decided to respond over text after turning my brightness all the way down to keep Chris from catching a glimpse.
Y/n: matt. we can’t.
I heard his phone vibrate beside me, and kept my gaze away from him as he picked it up. I only had to wait a few seconds for a response.
Matt: Yes we can
Matt: Please Y/n.
The clear desperation in his texts went straight to my core, and I felt myself on the verge of dissolving into a puddle right then and there. To make things even worse, Matt snaked his hands back under the blanket, grabbing my own and drawing it towards the crotch of his jeans. There, his cock was already rock hard, and I really had to keep myself from straddling him right there. I turned to my left to get a quick glance at Nick and Chris beside me. Nick was curled onto the couch, seemingly sound asleep, and Chris was fully entranced by the hockey game. Just then, a commercial break came on, and I turned to face Matt and gave him a soft nod. Immediately, a sinister smile crossed his face before he put his phone away and cleared his throat.
“Oh my god Y/n I forgot to show you the clothes I bought before I left LA. Remember you texted me earlier today telling me you wanted to see?” His lie fell from his mouth effortlessly, and if I didn’t know that he had ulterior motives I would never come even close to feeling suspicious. Without missing a beat, I followed along in his little lie. “Oh yeah! Where are they?” I responded, doing everything I could to keep my tone as nonchalant as his. “Up in my room, I haven’t unpacked yet. Wanna go see them now?” I bit my lip to keep myself from smiling. “Sure.” Was all I was able to say in response before hurriedly standing up from the couch. Matt shifted slightly under the blanket for a moment, obviously tucking his boner into the waistband of his pants so that it wouldn’t be noticeable, before following me towards the stairs. “Don’t be long!” Shouted Chris from behind us, “Ya’ll are gonna miss a good ass game.”
Quickly, the two of us climbed the stairs, doing our best to keep our composure until we were behind closed doors. We rushed into Matt’s bedroom, him entering before me, and I turned to quickly shut the door. Before I could even face his room, Matt pinned me to the door and his lips were on mine. A groan immediately fell from his lips as I opened my mouth to grant his tongue access; losing all sense of control as his hands roamed every inch of my body. My own hands flew to his hair, holding his face against mine as the kiss deepened even more. Our tongues swirled around each other, our mutual hunger for one another taking an almost literal form.
One of Matt’s hands travelled up my chest, tearing my hoodie up over my head in the process, before attaching to my throat. I gasped at the pressure, feeling my panties flood with arousal, and he tugged at my bottom lip with his teeth as he pulled away from the kiss; gazing down harshly at me. “How many guys have you fucked since I saw you last.” His voice was gravelly with lust, and his tone was so ominous that if I hadn’t known Matt for as long as I had, I would be afraid. Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain in my cheek as he slapped it. “Answer me, Y/n. How many?” I couldn’t keep the small smile from travelling to my lips from how turned on he was making me, but finally I was able to get myself to respond. “A few.” His pupils dilated.
“Oh yeah? How were they?” He was smirking, and I was thrown off by his words. Again, in my silence he slapped my cheek. At that, I couldn’t keep the lustful squeal from falling from my lips. “T-they were okay.” I lied, feeling myself tremble against the doorframe. At that, his thumb that had been soothing my sore cheek traveled to my mouth, pressing down on my lips and encouraging me to open up. I obliged, letting his thumb rest on my tongue before slowly wrapping my lips around it and sucking lightly. Matt’s eyes were glued to my mouth, but he continued speaking. “Just okay, huh?” He knew what he was doing, and I did as well, but in the state I was in I had lost all impulse control; so I fell for his trap.
“None were as good as you, Matty.”
I batted my eyelashes as I spoke, and immediately his lips were back on mine. Our mouths moved in sync as his tongue dominated mine, and I relished in the familiar taste of him. His burning desire for me fuelled my own, and as I continued to kiss him I felt myself growing more and more needy. As I released a frustrated groan into his mouth, I felt his hand travel to the waistband of my jeans where he hurriedly worked at the button and zipper. As soon as he peeled the rough material down my legs, his hand went to my heat; causing me to release a sharp breath.
“Mmm. So wet, just like last time.” He purred, dragging his mouth away from mine and down my neck; dropping wet kisses in its path. I was shaking from his touch, and subconsciously I widened my legs to give him better access to my aching core. Noticing this, he released a husky chuckle before slowly rubbing two fingers along my folds. “You missed this, didn’t you?” I immediately nodded my head as I nibbled at my bottom lip, needing him to touch me more. “I knew it.” His fingers slowly began circling my clit then, drawing satisfied moans from my mouth. “Yeah. I bet you touch yourself thinking of that night in LA,” His mouth was nibbling at my neck just below my ear, and the heat from his breath caused goosebumps to raise on my skin and my nipples to harden. “And I bet you pretend that your fingers are mine.”
Just as the words left his lips, he plunged two fingers up into me, causing me to gasp in pleasurable shock. Immediately, his fingers went to work curling up to my spongey g-spot and forcing my knees to buckle. Desperate for more contact, I wrapped a leg around his waist so that his fingers could reach even deeper into me. Hushed moans fell thoughtlessly from my mouth, and I prayed that no one in the house could hear them. I gripped helplessly onto the back of Matt’s neck as he rested his forehead against my collar bone, putting all of his effort into his plunging fingers.
“You feel good sweetheart?” He asked, his words coming out in short bursts as he continued his movements. “S-so g-good.” I replied carelessly, arching my back off of the door as I felt tension like a stretched rubber band grow in my stomach. Aching from the pressure, I reached in between my legs and began frantically rubbing my clit; desperately chasing my high. After just a brief moment, Matt looked down between my legs and, upon realizing what I was doing, slapped my hand out of the way and replaced it with his own. His fingers worked on my clit and my core simultaneously, and I lost all control over the erotic noises that poured out of my mouth.
“Shh.” Matt demanded, placing his own mouth on mine in a motionless kiss to stifle my moans. The stimulation was almost too much to handle, and I felt myself teetering on the edge of an overwhelmingly strong orgasm. “G-gonna cum.” I managed to spew out against Matt’s open mouth, and he hummed in response; keeping his pace on my heat steady. “Look at me while you cum, Y/n.” Matt’s voice was commanding, and without thinking twice I opened my pinched eyes and was met with his focused yet aroused gaze just before being overtaken by an earth-shattering orgasm.
As pleasure rippled through my body, my blurry vision never veered from his face as his fingers fucked me through my high. I bit my lip so hard that I left indents to suffocate my stream of moans before they could leave my lips. I felt myself squirt, the pressure that had built up inside of me immediately being relieved, and as I did he removed his one hand from my core and used his other to continue rubbing my clit so that the fluid sprayed all over the front of him and down my legs.
As I was still trembling through my high, I watched as Matt used his free hand to yank his jeans and boxers down his legs before plunging his hard cock into me. “Fuck.” We both gasped in unison as he sunk every inch through my walls, shuddering from the immediate pleasure that we both felt. Matt stayed still for a moment, clearly collecting himself, before pounding into me strenuously. Grasping onto his shoulders in order to stay grounded, I muttered nonsense as his cock slammed into my g-spot relentlessly.
“Fuck. Missed this pussy so fucking much.” Matt groaned in my ear, causing me to cry out as he drove his cock harder and harder into me; so hard that my head began smacking against the door frame. Suddenly, Matt’s hands snaked down to my ass, cupping it in his grasp and lifting me up. Still inside of me, he began walking me towards his bed on the far side of the room, where he placed me on the end of the bed and spun me around. I lay there like a rag doll as I let him reposition me into doggy, before I felt him slide his dick back through my opening.
“Jesus Christ.” I moaned, the new position deeper than the last as I felt every inch of him stretch out my walls and reach even further into me. Matt grabbed a fistful of my hair and I cried out as he used his grip to pull my head up off of the bead. With my back pressed against him, he covered my mouth with his hand as he peppered my sensitive neck with wet kisses. “You love my cock, don’t you baby?” He asked in a rough voice against my ear, and I nodded. Suddenly, his hand made contact with my throat and he tightened his fingers around it again. “Words, Y/n.” He said tauntingly, and I whined. “Y-yes. I love it Matt.” I managed to reply before he loosened his grip on both my throat and my hair, allowing my body to fall back onto the bed.
His hands found my hips, and he held them tightly as he continued thrusting into me. His pace was growing slightly choppier, and I smiled to myself maniacally, knowing that he was feeling good. As his rhythm slowed, I began moving my own hips up and down to meet his length. Noticing what I was doing, Matt stopped his own movements and allowed me to fuck myself on his cock. I heard his heavy breathing behind me as I continued to throw myself down on it, picking up the pace with each pump.
His hands gripped my hips tighter before he spoke. “Mmmm, slow down honey, gonna cum soon if you keep doing that.” I smiled to myself once again, and even let out a small chuckle as I continued at the same quick pace; wanting to make him feel good. The sound of wet skin slapping skin filled the space between us as I worked his cock up and down my walls, and I felt another orgasm approaching down my spine. “Matty, gonna cum again.” I whined as the build up became un-ignorable. “Me too. Turn around. Wanna see that pretty face while you take it.” His words went straight to my core, and I struggled to find the strength to do exactly what he said.
With his help, I flipped around so that I was now on my back looking right up at his naked frame. He gazed down at me with eyes so dark and filled with lust that I almost gasped from the stark difference from the Matt that I typically saw. Leaning over me, he drove his length into me again, grabbing onto my tits as he did; making me see stars. Matt grabbed onto my legs and bent them at the knees before pressing them down and allowing his cock so much access to the deepest part of my core that I almost cried in addictive pain. “You want me to cum in you baby?” He asked, his voice a whole octave lower than usual due to his aroused state. I nodded, before remembering to use my words. “P-please cum in me.” I added, feeling my own orgasm causing my walls to already begin to convulse slightly. Holding onto my knees tightly, Matt’s jaw went slack before he released a guttural moan, enough to push me over the edge for the second time tonight.
With his cock pulsing inside of me, I shook uncontrollably as my second orgasm tore through me without mercy. I clung onto anything that I could as I fought the urge to scream profanities out at the top of my lungs as my walls milked his shaft dry. Matt continued to thrust into me slowly, pushing all of his cum deep inside as he helped me come down from my high. Once my moans halted, he planted a soft kiss to my hand resting on his chest before slowly pulling his cock out of me; watching the mix of his and my cum drip from my opening.
Walking over to his closet for what I assumed was a towel, he chuckled. Still catching my breath and recovering from my tornado of an orgasm, I struggled to lift myself off of the bed. “What’s so funny?” I asked as I watched him walk over with a towel just as I suspected. Still smiling, he shook his head as he began cleaning me up. “Nothing. It’s just that shit is way too good.” I laughed myself at his words, because I unfortunately agreed. “It probably wasn’t the best idea.” I began as I stood on shaky legs to retrieve my lost articles of clothing. “The first time was purely practical. The second could be called an accident. But a third time? There’s no explaining that away.” I said as I dressed myself.
“What?” He started, walking over to where I was standing to retrieve his own pants. “You’re the one that said that good friendships include fucking each other every once in a while.” I rolled my eyes. I had said that in Los Angeles, but had meant it as a joke at the time. “I don’t know if fucking every time we’ve seen each other constitutes as ‘once in a while’.” I replied, running my hands through my messy hair in an attempt to remedy my fucked out appearance. With a sheepish smirk on his face, he shrugged. “I don’t know, I think it’s working out fine, don’t you?” I couldn’t contain my smile at this, giving away that I agreed. “And besides, no one has to know about this time. No brothers barging in, no Discord servers being left on. No one knows so there’s no need for an explanation this time.” He pulled me to his chest and hugged me for a moment, and I instantly felt more reassured.
“Ready to go? I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to see the score.” I laughed before pulling away from the hug and heading to his bedroom door. We walked down the stairs in a single file, and walked back into the living room with the intention of looking as inconspicuous as possible. Nick was still sound asleep, but Chris was wide awake, still staring at the tv. He was suspiciously quiet, but I allowed myself to believe that it was just because he was locked into the game, so I nonchalantly sat down on the couch beside him. Just as Matt settled onto the couch to my right, Chris cleared his throat before speaking. “So, Y/n. What was your favourite piece?” I turned to face him in confusion, and mentally scrambled to try to figure out what the fuck he was talking about. “The fuck?” I asked just as Matt pinched my thigh gently under the blanket.
As I realized that he was talking about the excuse that Matt and I had made to go upstairs, I watched as Chris’ eyes shot open and he pointed a finger between me and Matt. “I fuckin’ knew it!” I tried to speak, but I was completely incapable of forming a coherent sentence; let alone a believable lie. I heard Matt groan to my right. “You two fucked again didn’t you!” Still, silence.
Our lack of retaliation was enough to give Chris the answer he needed, and he rolled his eyes. “Jesus Christ, you guys are a couple of dogs.” He turned back to face the screen, but not before dramatically scooting a few centimetres away from me on the couch. I slowly turned my head to face Matt, and found him closing his eyes and biting his lip to stifle a laugh. At this, I had to cover my mouth to to the same, and I prayed that Chris couldn’t see my shoulders shaking as I laughed silently. My silent laugh seemed to be contagious, because I watched as Matt’s body began to tremble in laughter as his hand went back to casually resting on my thigh under the blanket.
─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─
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