you’re a shy little thing that needs to be fucked. so you book enjin for some time. — cw ; multiple orgasms, dirty talk, mild degradation, praise
“ya sure about this, sweetheart?” his voice came out rough, and worse, almost bored - like he just confirming an order at takeout window.
he’s leaning against your doorframe in a beige coat, arms crossed and eyes dragging over your body like you’re a price tag. it made you so uncomfortable that you wondered how impolite it’d be if you just pushed him out of your apartment.
“y-yes. i… i want to.”
“alright then. let’s see the money,” he smirked.
your hands trembled slightly as you handed him the envelope. wordlessly he took it, flipped through the bills. his brow raised when he saw the tip you tucked in.
“didn’t say you had to pay me extra.”
“i—i just thought, um, you should have it,” you mumbled. “since… you’re doing this.”
enjin lets out a quiet, humorless chuckle. “doin’ you, ya mean.”
your entire body locked up as heat flared and spread across your skin. your thighs pressed together. enjin saw it all. unfortunately so.
he jerked his chin. “lead the way. time’s ticking.”
you nodded again and turned to walk towards your bedroom. he followed, golden eyes locked on the sway of your hips in that too soft and sweet little dress of yours.
shuffling inside you had no idea what to do next. somewhere you’ve read that they didn’t kiss. so, you sat down on the edge of the bed and folded your hands bravely in your lap. meanwhile enjin shrugged off his coat and tossed it on the chair like… he did that a few times. which he probably did.
“you ever done this before?” he asked as he kicked off his boots.
you couldn’t even look that man into the eyes and instead stared at the tattoo on his neck. you blushed and looked back to your lap.
“no, i’ve never—“
“figured,” he interrupted. “you nervous?”
“y-yeah.”
“you should be,” he hummed and stepped between your knees. his hand reached for your chin to tilt your head up. “you paid me to fuck ya, sweetheart. so unless you’ve changed your fuckin’ mind i’m gonna give you what you paid for. got it?”
your breath caught.
god, that look in his eyes. he didn’t care. you were just another client for him. but there was also something else - something sharper that assessed already how you’ll sound when you broke for him.
before you could say anything or hide under the bed, he stepped back and started to strip. shirt first, exposing the heavy tattooed arms and chest along with the ink on his stomach. he was well trained. not too much muscles that would’ve added to your anxiety. well defined abs had you staring and you would’ve loved to know more about his ink.
you opened your mouth to ask, because maybe that’d be a nice starter.
you’d ask, then touch it, then you’d have sex.
but then he pulled his pants and underwear down. and he revealed a cock so thick and long that you went speechless.
he was already hard - surprisingly so - and rolled a condom onto it.
“okay,” you murmured to yourself as you stood.
you also undressed without much spectacle and everything was so weird. the urge to hide thickened.
this was a mistake, you thought over and over again as you sat back down.
it only got worse.
enjin didn’t ask what you liked. he didn’t touch your tits as he nudged you so you’d lay down and then dragged you to the center of the bed. like you were nothing more than a pillow to fuck.
you gasped. your arms fluttered as you got comfortable. “wait—just, um.”
“i’m not gonna hurt you,” he muttered. “unless you want me to.”
you did not.
however, your face burned as he leaned over you. his chest barely touched your tits and still your nipples stood at attention. same that it got your pussy wet when he spread your thighs apart with his knee.
he reached down then and gave you the courtesy of rubbing his blunt head along your slit before it nestled all thick against your entrance.
“try to relax,” he said. “won’t take long.”
he pushed in. your breath stuttered, more from the stretch itself than the pain. he was bigger than expected and he wasn’t slow about it either as he fed inch after inch to you.
you grabbed the sheets and squirmed slightly from the intrusion. enjin watched you curiously, obviously trying to decide if you’re enjoying it or regretted everything.
“you’re tight,” he muttered. “thought you said you wanted this.”
“i-i do,” you whisper. “it’s just—”
well. you couldn’t tell him that he was the problem since he didn’t do anything wrong.
he stilled. his eyes still searched yours and you swore you saw awareness and guilt flickering in his.
“you ever had a guy inside you before?” he asked a bit softer.
“i did… years ago.”
wasn’t this embarrassing? he must think you were boring. or frigid. or both.
for enjin it explained it. he braced himself on one arm and changed the angle. his thrusts became less intense and he focused more on the glide. he hummed as your lashes fluttered and lips parted in surprised.
“feels good?” he asked.
you nodded. it definitely was an improvement and you got a little more wet. still you were trying too hard to enjoy it. your thighs shook so much from embarrassment and… you weren’t sure.
bored enjin watched it all.
“you’re cute,” he muttered to himself suddenly.
“huh?” you blinked up at him.
“i mean,” he continued, fucking you with lazy, deep strokes, “for a shy lil thing who paid for dick like it’s takeout.”
your face burned. no, your entire body did. but your cunt clenched around his dick, and he smirked.
“oh. so that does do something for you.”
his hips rolled more slowly and deeply now. intentional rubbing the sweet spot inside you that made you clutch the sheets tightly. your eyes fluttered shut as soft moans spilled from your mouth. you loosened up more, got more wet, and made it easier for him to fuck you.
“fuck,” he said. “you’re soaked.”
you whimpered in return, and followed the urge as you try to hide your face against the pillow. instantly he snatched your chin and turned your face towards him again.
“don’t hide,” he growled. “i wanna see.”
your bottom lip trembled, and it shouldn’t effect him. this was a job and you were just a client. but you looked up at him like he was more than just a hooker. more like he was the first man who ever really touched you and that did something to him.
“you want me to make you feel good?” he asked roughly
you nodded.
“use your words, sweetheart.”
“yes. please.”
his hand slid down between your bodies and it took him a second to find your clit. his fingers felt rough, but so so good. your entire body jolted from the pleasure.
“you this sensitive from just a few strokes?” enjin hummed. “fuckin’ hell, baby. you were made to be fucked.”
you choked on a moan. he pounded deeper now while his fingers circled your clit. he still watched your face, how the embarrassment slowly faded and turned into ecstasy you’re too shy to admit.
“say it,” he ordered. “say you like it.”
“i—i like it.”
“say you like being used.”
your breath hitched. “i like being used.”
that was it.
enjin’s controlled started to crack. his rhythm picked up harder, more intense. your body bounced beneath him, thigh quaking and eyes glossy with overwhelming pleasure.
his breath was hot on your ear as he leaned down to taunt you, “still shy, princess? even while you’re clenching around me like you’re about to cum?”
you let out a soft, desperate noise. so close you were shaking, and that makes him grin.
“you gonna cum for the cock you paid for?” he asked. “gonna soak it like a good little client?”
your walls fluttered and your legs tightened around his waist. hips bucking against the force of his thrusts. by now you were panting, clutching the sheets like they’d save you if you just focused hard enough.
oh no. that wasn’t gonna fly with him.
“uh-uh,” he clicked his tongue, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head with one hand. “don’t you fuckin’ dare hold back on me.”
your eyes went wide. “i…i can’t—enjin!”
“you will.” his hips slammed into yours harder, deeper. “you think i came all this way for you to hold that pretty little orgasm in?”
“n-no,” you shook your head.
“paid good money, didn’t you?” he snarled into your ear. “so cum, sweetheart. soak my cock. make it worth my time.”
the force of him, his filthy voice, his control. all of it tore through you.
you broke. you cried out. body spasming under him as the orgasm crashed through you so intense it nearly knocked the air from your lungs. it was loud. it was messy.
worst of all, it was so much better than you ever expected.
enjin watched you with dark satisfaction as he fucked you through the aftermath while your poor cunt clenched around him.
“fuck, didn’t thought you had it in you.”
“me neither,” you whimpered and he chuckled.
and he’s still hard. still moving. still inside you, deep and full and relentless.
“cute thing like you should get used to cumming for me,” he rasped, dragging his lips across your jaw. “you think this is over?”
you blinked up at him dazed and he gave your thighs a squeeze. he ground against you just right.
“it’s a flat rate, sweetheart,” he smirked. “i don’t stop till the hour’s up.”
eyes went wide as you were still shaking. so fucking dazed from your first orgasm that still echoed through your body. you could feel your sticky thighs as you just made the most helpless, aroused noises.
enjin didn’t give you a break.
he pulled out and flipped you around like you weighed nothing. he dragged you on all fours easily, your body was so pliant for him.
“c’mon, sweetheart,” he grunted, kneeling behind you, cock still thick and hard, glistening with your slick. “you wanted the full hour, right?”
“i think i need a second,” you said all politely and protesting.
but then his chest pressed to your back and it felt so good and intimate, you arched your back. his hand slid to your front, palm wide against your stomach to hold you in place.
“you’ll be fine,” he breathed against your ear. “just keep that pretty lil pussy open for me.”
he slammed every inch back into you. you cried out, high pitched. the angle was devastating. he was deeper, reshaping you from the inside out.
suddenly you understood the phrase “rearranging your guts” so much better.
rough fingers slid up, curling under your jaw and suddenly he got you by the throat. this was ownership disguised as paid fucking and you liked that a lot. without thinking much you rocked back against him.
“fuckin’ hell,” he hissed darkly. “look at you.”
his pace was so filthy, so brutal. the slapping of your skin almost overshadowed your noises of pleasure. your body jerked forward and eyes rolled back.
god, you were thriving on this cock.
“your sweet lil act’s slipping, baby,” he snarled, lips brushing your temple. “didn’t think you’d beg for it like this.”
you tried to form words. probably babbled something, but most of them melted on your tongue.
“thought you’d be quiet. thought you’d be polite.” his grip on your throat tightened and your heart stuttered. “but now you’re moaning like a goddamn porn star.”
“en-enjin, pl-please.”
“yeah?” he snarled. “beg again. beg like you’re gonna pay me to own you.”
your body convulsed. another orgasm crashed through you before you even realize it was coming. your legs collapsed, throat screamed raw. he held you up, still thrusting. like fuck he’d let you fall or hide now.
“you gonna remember this?” he growled. “next time you’re wet and lonely and thinkin’ about booking a nice, quiet boy to fuck you gentle?” his hand curled tighter around your neck. “you’ll think about me.”
you were limp beneath him. eyes glassy, lips trembling and drool running from them. you were barely upright, shaking with every thrust. every drag of his cock from behind splitting you wide open - no matter how hard your sweet cunt was clenching.
enjin wasn’t done - not even close. he fisted your hair and pulled you up against his chest. your back was flushed tightly against his sweat-soaked torso. knees barely supported you and your breathing was ragged.
“that’s it,” he breathed at your ear, almost giddy in its cruelty. “that’s the face i wanted.”
you couldn’t speak as you just moaned open mouthed and broken. his hand caught your jaw, turned your face towards the mirror across the room.
“look at you,” he punctuated each word. “fucked stupid. paid me to break you, and now you don’t even know what day it is.”
you stared.
you saw yourself.
face a mess of sweat and hair hanging in it. your mouth open, tits bouncing with every hard, punishing thrust. your thighs were as wet as your eyes and you were wearing his marks from where had grabbed you too tight.
but that’s not what got you.
it was enjin behind you looking absolute feral. chest heaving and his tattoos flexing. that bored expression you saw before? gone. that man looked hungry.
“see what you do to me?” he hissed, snapping his hips hard. “you see what you fucking unlocked, sweetheart?”
you whined, nodding helplessly.
“you thought this was just business,” he continued. “but look at me. look at how fuckin’ hard i still am after making you cum twice. look at how i can’t stop.”
you let out a strangled moan as another orgasm built, your body clenched down on him involuntarily. desperately you tried to stop it… like he’d let you.
“that’s it,” he groaned loudly. “let it hit you. fall apart. i want you gone, baby. i want you wrecked. ruined. cryin’.”
he grabbed your throat again. his thumb brushed over your spit slick lips. you bit down, sucked. didn’t know if it were appropriate, but he seemed to like it as his thumb pressed down on your tongue.
“cum,” he ordered, hips pounding into you so deep you feel it in your ribs. “fucking cum for me.”
you did. you obeyed. you were a good girl.
it hit you so hard you screamed. your legs gave out completely as your vision went white. body folding he had to catch you. his tattooed arm wrapped around your waist and his other hand came around to your hair.
he soothed. he fucked. he watched you through the mirror reflection like you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
and all he could say with his voice wrecked and chest heaving. “fuck,” before he came hard. his groan long and pained as he filled the condom.
the shower was warm. steam curled around you. hands braced to the tile you tried to keep from sliding down. enjin stood behind you. his long fingers guided the the water down your back.
it should feel awkward, transactional. instead it felt safe and soft and quiet.
the trembling had stopped almost completely. but you were still flushed from heat and adrenaline. you slowly came back to life - a little confused.
“but the hour’s up?”
enjin went still behind you. then quiet, short laughter escaped him like you had just asked if the sky was blue. “the fuck’s your point?”
you glanced over your shoulder. he stood there in all his tattooed glory, but he wasn’t looking at you. he was grabbing the body wash and started rubbing it into his chest like.. yeah, what exactly? like he belonged there and did it a hundred times already.
“i just—“ you whispered. “i thought you’d leave?”
“what?” he snorted. “you got somewhere to be?”
“n-no,” you shook the head.
“good,” he reached around you and put his hand on your stomach. like before. “me neither.”
your heart thudded painfully. you didn’t want to be delusional thinking you were special.
“you didn’t have to stay,” you murmured shyly.
his golden eyes finally met yours. they were a little unreadable as he just shrugged. “i wanted to.”
that was the truth. that wasn’t part of the transaction too.
and suddenly you were really trembling. not from the sex, but from how seen you felt by him. this moment was real and enjin knew.
“hey,” he whispered and crowded you into the warm tiles with his chest. “i’m not going anywhere yet. so relax.”
his hand curled gently under your jaw to tilt your face up to him. “you’re not just another client,” he murmured softly. “i don’t fucking do this. i don’t stay. so don’t look at me like that.”
“like what?” you whispered.
“like i’m something good.”
you smiled and he cursed under his breath. turning away again he grabbed the shampoo, acting like this moment never happened. still, he held you. washed and cleaned you.
it took you exactly 83 seconds to fall asleep after the shower. on his chest - just like that. naked, boneless, your cheek smushed against his pec like it was your damn pillow.
you clung to him. fingers curled softly against his ribs and your breath caressed his skin, giving him goosebumps.
enjin stared at the ceiling like it had personally betrayed him. he should leave. fuck, he should’ve left hours ago. should’ve never stayed in the first place.
but here he was - flat on his back and smelling like her shampoo. he was so spent. never had cummed so good with a client.
it was only paid sex and yet that drooling little thing on his chest wore his damn heart already like it was yours now.
fuck fuck fuck.
‘just shove her off,’ he thought. leave. say something. all he could do is staring at the ceiling, watching the fan spinning above them and think:
‘i’m so fucking screwed.’
he had been with dozens of women. all shapes. all types. loud and wild ones. women who knew what they wanted and weren’t shy about it.
but this one? you?
you were quiet and sweet and nervous. you whispered, you moaned politely. you looked at him like he wasn’t just a dick on two legs. a sex god.
and now - after he fucked you so hard you could barely stand and would be sore by tomorrow - you just trusted him. fell asleep on him like he wasn’t just a cold, shallow motherfucker.
without permission his arm moved around your waist so he could hold you a little closer. his fingers caressed your soft skin, needing to feel that you were real. all while you sighed softly, content where you were and burrowed deeper.
and enjin, the asshole who had broken hearts from women obsessing over him and broken bones from men that did him wrong, felt that throb behind his ribs. his heart stuttered and for the first time in a long, long times his voice became vulnerable as he spoke into the night.
“what the hell are you doing to me, sweetheart?”
of course he got no answer. the fan kept humming and your breath stayed warm and even. and there was this devastating ache of something he might not survive.
but he stayed, and when the morning would come he’d be still here by your side.
tags; not proof-read, headcanons, nsfw, reader is a cutie patootie, reader is quiet during sex, lotus position, masturbation (m), reader is described to have doe eyes,
Ryul who practically feels a wave of cuteness aggression at the feeling of your nails digging into his shoulders, forming tiny crescent moon shapes. All while he pounds into you, juices coating his cock and leaking onto the bed sheets that laid underneath you.
Ryul who has multiple favourite positions, including the lotus position. The sight of you sitting in his lap, completely limp as he either fingers you or smoothly slides you up and down his cock always gives him the most flustered grins whenever he looks back on those thoughts.
Ryul who's obsessed with your doe eyes looking up at him that he can't help but jerk off to them. Any photos where you're looking up at the camera with a confused look or a photo with your gaze somewhere in the far distance, spaced out. He just can't help it that you're so cute!
Ryul who finds it adorable whenever you straddle him, grinding down against his jeans to ease the ache between your legs a bit. Your breaths all huffed and hushed, hair slightly messy and most of the time in comfortable pyjamas.
Ryul who's favourite outfit isn't a formal dress or sexy lingerie but a simple off-the-shoulder worn out shirt and black shorts, bonus points if your hair is put up in a messy hairstyle. You just look so raw and so his in this specific look. Face flustered as he gropes your ass through the shorts.
Ryul, whose favourite feature about you during sex is how quiet you are. At first, he was worried you weren't enjoying it, so he stopped, but instead of being greeted with a thank you, he instead received a small whine. Turns out you're just quiet. He remembers the first time he made you cum, the sound he got in return was a sneeze.
Ryul who finds you fucking adorable yet adorably fuckable.
• Men that would have you sit between his legs and lean back against his chest so you can relax while his thick fingers work on you and your soaked pussy<3
• Men that spit into his palm before rubbing it all over your swollen folds, smearing it down to your entrance until it drips. The mess so obscene it makes that sticky shlick—shlick—shlick every time he moves his fingers.
• Men that slap your pussy, just to watch you jolt from the sting, then do it again to hear how embarrassingly wet you are for him.
• Men that switch up his words for you—“pretty girl” when you’re needy and clinging to him, “my love” when you’re soft and fluttering around his fingers, and “slut” when you’re begging for him to ruin you.
• Encourage you to squirt. Knows exactly when you need his thumb pressed to your clit, or his fingers curling deep inside, or both at once until you’re crying.
• Men that don’t stop even when your thighs shake, finger fucking you through your orgasm, watching the way your body convulses and your voice breaks for him. Loves how messy you get, how desperate, how loud.
• Men that groan when your squirt drenches him, because he made you do that
• And when you’re spent and trembling, he slows, slips his fingers out just to suck them clean, moaning about how sweet you taste before grabbing your chin and kissing you deep. Making sure you taste yourself on his tongue.
harua’s birthday had been loud in all the ways he expected it to be with a household full of friends. birthday candles, gifts, everyone yelling over each other. it was heartwarming in all the ways.
but that wasn’t what was on his mind at the moment. it was you, and your hands wrapped around the base of his throbbing cock, precum leaking from the tip.
you were sat against the headboard, legs parted enough for him to settle back between them. when he melted into the space you’d made, he slipped into the unguarded version of him that belonged to you.
head tipped back on your shoulder, lips parted enough to hear his pitchy and wreaked moans, you pressed a kiss to his ear.
“nghh, please. i can’t take it a-anymore.” he sucked in a sharp breath.
“c’mon ruru. of course you can.” you purred, voice sweet as can be. his body trembled against your hold, hips bucking involuntarily as your thumb swiped against his sensitive ridge. “but you gotta stay still for me, sweet boy.”
he gasped, as the grip you had on him tightened and pumped in tight relentless strokes, matching the rhythm of his breathy pants.
the closer he got, the tighter he gripped the sheets beneath him, and the sloppier his hips bucked against in your hands. “n-no. its too much.” he begged, voice cracking and all.
but you only hummed against his cheek, squeezing tighter around his length. his eyes were almost on the verge of tears, but it didn’t stop him from trying to chase your lips.
the moment your mouths met, he devoured the kiss. it was messy and urgent, and every tiny shift of your mouth sent a shockwave through him.
his hips stutter, a broken whimper vibrating against your tongue, but he chases you anyway, desperate, frantic, like the kiss itself might ground him in the flood of sensation.
you try to pull back for air, but he don’t let you. palm shooting up to the nape of your neck, nails digging hard enough in your shirt to plead, don’t stop.
“are you close, baby?” you manage to pull away, a string of saliva snaps between you.
but he was too lost in the moment to respond. pupils blown wide, nearly swallowing the color. his bangs plastered to his forehead by sweat.
it’s too much, but it’s not enough. the pleasure is so good, but it aches, yet he clings to it. half whimpering against your lips as if he’s afraid the heat will vanish if he lets go.
“wait, fuck, i-i’m close.” his hands clutched at your forearms, nails digging in as his orgasm built fast. a broken sound escaping him as pleasure coils tight in his core.
his cock twitches and swell, and he’s cumming right there in your grasp. vision blurring, spots of light flickering behind his eyelids while heat thrums through his chest and face.
“that’s it, you’re doing so good.” thick, warm, ropes spurting all over your hands and down your fingers as you coax him through it.
he rides the surge with a helpless gasp, caught between the aching need to be finished and the desperate wish for the feeling to never end.
but you didn’t pull away. instead, you tightened your hold on his shaft, milking him relentlessly.
“ahh! stop….fuck, i can’t!” he cried, body convulsing between your legs. tears pricked his eyes, but you kept going. jerking him off, forcing his oversensitive cock to stay hard.
“just a little more, for me please?”
his body arched, cock throbbing wildly as the second orgasm hit. his cum erupted hotter and thicker, painting his stomach this time.
and you still didn’t stop. your first kept pumping through the pulses, slick with his release while he bucked and sobbed.
“no, no, no. stop, i can’t take it anymore!” he gasped. but your legs squeezed tighter around his thighs, locking him in place.
your hand slowed to teasing glides over the oversensitive skin, then ramped up again, twisting sharply to build him back toward the edge.
you edged him mercilessly, switching between firm strokes and feather light traces along his pulsing vein. which made his third climax come even faster, weaker streams splattering on your wrist as he thrashed weakly.
he was completely wrecked, cock raw and red, spurting the last bit of cum down his shaft, all on your hands and onto his pelvis.
his body practically went limp after you finally eased off, sweat slicked and shuddering against you.
“you did so good.” you murmured against his temple, hands brushing down strands of his hair that was out of place.
“best birthday gift ever.” he managed to whisper through the aftershock, and you couldn’t help but laugh.
thanks for the tag, baby 💗 it's been a WHILE since I've done this (and yes, i'm yellowish ans my brows are slightly thicner, but we had to work with what we had to do lmao)
tagging: @taestulipss @ivehan @stxrrywoo @teacuplps + anyone who wants too 🫶
but anton was getting bigger. like, noticeably bigger. and you noticed it a couple days ago, when he got back from the gym.
gym bag tossed by the front door, sweat dripping from the tips of his hair and down his neck. after a long hour of working out, all anton wanted to do was loosen his muscles under a hot shower, and crash in bed.
"i'm back." he mumbled, catching your attention from the dinner table, finishing the last bite of your breakfast. by the time you woke up, he was already gone. so you had a hunch where he would've gone.
"i didn't think you would be home so early." your gaze followed him from the door to the kitchen, unscrewing the lid of his protein shake.
but something in you froze, yet you couldn't pin point why exactly. something about him was different. you thought it was because he wasn't wearing his glasses, or his hair was getting longer and falling onto his face.
until your eyes traveled down and zeroed in on his biceps. he was wearing a loose, sleeveless tank. it hung nicely on him, dark fabric clinging just enough around his chest and torso.
"me neither, i wanted to stay an extra 30 minutes but i think i overdid it yesterday." his lips pressed together, biceps bulging tight against his skin as he prodded at the lid of his bottle.
water rushed from the faucet as he shook the bottle out, strong hands twisting the cap off fully before he reached inside with the sponge.
his bicep flexed with the motion, full and firm and so much bigger than it used to be that your mouth actually parted a little.
anton was bulking.
actually bulking.
and his biceps were proof of it.
they looked fuller than before, round and firm, the kind of arms that made your thoughts slow down in the worst way.
there was no missing it now.
not with the way that tank stretched across his chest. not with the way his shoulders looked broader, his arms thicker, more sculpted.
every tiny movement made the muscle in his upper arm jump so naturally, so unfairly, and all you could do was sit there and stare like some shameless fool.
it was such a simple thing, anton cleaning out a protein bottle at the sink, but on him, it looked obscene.
"babe. did you change your routine?" you tried to sound natural, voice even as you walked over to him. but with the way your eyes never once left his arms, said otherwise.
because goodness, his biceps were insane.
your eyes tracked the way they tightened and released while he scrubbed the inside of the bottle, forearm shifting, veins faintly visible beneath warm skin.
your gaze kept dragging right back to his arms no matter how hard you tried to act normal.
the worse part, he was just standing there being built and gorgeous and completely unaware that you were seconds away from gripping his arm just to see if it felt as solid as it looked.
"no. why? finally deciding to workout with me?" he glanced over his shoulder, brows lifted slightly, soft amusement slipping into his expression almost instantly.
he definitely caught you.
but you didn’t even bother pretending this time.
your stare dipped right back to his bicep as he turned off the water, giving you one last, cruel flex when he squeezed the cloth dry in his hand.
the corner of his lips lifted lazily and you have to laugh. you've seen how he worked out. from countless facetime's or videos he'll randomly send you of him completing a set.
low groans and soft pants pushing past his lips in concentration. and you thank him every. time. saving them into a separate, special, folder in your gallery.
he turned a little more toward you now, protein bottle still in hand, and the tank shifted against his chest, showing even more of those broad shoulders and thickened arms.
"pfft, you wish." you lean back against the counter next to him leaving no space in question, glancing down to his arms every now and then.
the looked so full in that tank, so hard earned and distracting and perfect that your brain kept short circuiting every time he moved.
"i'll gladly stick with your videos. for scientific purposes." you cleared your throat.
shoulders shaking when he quietly snickered. "you sicko. maybe i should stop sending so you have no choice but to come with me."
he meant it as a joke. of course he'll never deprive you of your "cherished videos", as you called it before. and they were, truly.
especially when you were craving for his touch and he just so happens not to be there. you'll open the previous video he sent, soft grunts filling your speaker as he completes his set of pull ups, just enough for it feel like he's right in your ear praising you for taking him so well.
"anton, don't play with me. i'll never forgive you."
"oh come on, you know i'm just kidding." a sinister grin is plastered across his face, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “you know there are other ways i can get you to come.” his lips were only inches away from yours when leaned to grab the plate you just dropped in the sink.
for the first time, you didn’t have anything snarky to respond with. it was hard to when he was making two distinctly different statements. the difference being there wasn’t anything he could do to make you come with him. the other, he can make you come in different ways.
tongue prodding at your cheek, you softly rolled your eyes. you were not falling into that trap, especially when he looked like this. because honestly, there’s nothing stopping you. or him.
“i would love see you try, babe.” you use the excuse to pat his arm condescendingly. purposely reaching for the part in his arm that flexed constantly beneath your palm while he scrubbed at the plate. even if it was for a few seconds.
damn.
“okay. i’ll remember that.” he nodded slowly and you could already see the gears turning in head.
but it didn’t concern you. because even when the sun had settled behind the clouds, all you could think about was anton and his biceps. helplessly and shamefully.
his bulking was obvious now, written all over his upper body, but especially there, his arms thick and defined enough.
anton never even had to do much.
he’d just exist. that was enough.
a sleeveless shirt here. a rolled up sleeve there. one absentminded flex of his arm while moving something. constantly thinking about how unfair it was.
every day after that, no matter how hard you tried to focus on something else, your thoughts kept wandering right back to him.
tight back to the sight of him standing at the sink, broad shoulders on display, tank hanging low, biceps flexing without effort while water poured over his hands.
a completely ordinary moment. and somehow, to you, it had become the moment.
the one your mind clung to aimlessly, shamelessly, day after day, like it had found something too good to let go of.
So like imagine a Nicho fic inspired by thattt 🤭🤭🤭
hi hii! and yess i can already imagine it omgggg!! also apologies in advance if this is too long lmaoo, i was in flow state🧘🏽♀️
✧ toxic!nicholas x reader ✧ || mdni ! || wc. 1.9 k
everything in your body told you this was wrong, warning signs going off every time you're in his vicinity. but who actually listens to their instinct, when it felt so good.
the party was already loud to begin with. music rattled off the walls, people packed shoulder to shoulder in the living room. but none of that mattered to you.
not when nicholas made the decision to drag you from your friends mid conversation, despite their playful pleas. if anything, everyone knew about you guys’ history.
the push and pull. one moment of being drawn to each other, nicholas whispering empty promises while he’s buried between the warmth of your thighs.
the next, you guys are avoiding each other like the plague after a petty argument. losing contact for days until one of you fold.
you don’t know why you kept going back. maybe it was because no one knew you better than him. or because, like clockwork, he knew if he asked you to jump, your first instinct wouldn’t be why. it would be how high.
the moment the bathroom door clicked shut behind you, his hands were already on your waist, pulling you closer. with no time to process, your breath catches when he dips his head, lips finding the side of your neck.
it isn’t rushed, like he knows you aren’t going anywhere. your fingers curl against the edge of the sink as he moves his lips further down your throat.
“nicholas..” despite your warning, he only sucked harder. his hands glides underneath the fabric of your top, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind from his fingertips.
“i texted you last night, didn’t see a response.”
you had a snarky response coming, but it died on your tongue the second he kissed, bit and nipped at the spot beneath your ear. he knew exactly what he was doing, eliciting a breathy moan from your parted lips.
“i..i was busy.” you mumbled the first thing that came to your mind, involuntarily titling your head back before you stop yourself, giving him more room.
and you hate how easily he notices. but he thrived on knowing how much power he had over you. more so, his cock begging to freed from his zipper. but he maintains his control.
“wow. too busy even for me?” he pulls away, eyes catching yours for the time after dragging you to the bathroom. his gaze, usually intentional and controlled, now dark and sharpened upon yours. your pupils, blown wide but nevertheless breaking contact.
“you’re the one who left me on read for three days straight.” there was a bite in your tone, but it clearly didn’t phase him.
he scoffed, a humorless chuckle if you will. and it only irritated you more, still remembering how he had you constantly checking your phone that day. but you were never going to admit that.
nicholas closed the gap, hand firmly grabbing your chin, eyes briefly dropping to your parted lips. “that wasn’t the question.”
his voice dipped an octave lower, settling deep into your core and pooling between your thighs. fuck, you thought. you’d be lying if you said this wasn’t turning you on. the arousal on your panties only confirmed what you knew was bound to happen.
keeping his gaze on you, his knee shifted between your legs, gradually pressing into your now throbbing clit, close enough that you feel the line of his fully erected cock, making your stomach tighten.
your head dips, brows furrowed in pleasure, mouth gaping, a low whimper coming from deep within your chest.
“nicholas, please.”
his grip on your chin tightened slightly, pulling you back up to his gaze. once he seen you weren’t complying his knee pressed deeper by a fraction. your fingers flew to grip the front of his shirt. not pushing him away, but holding him there. breath uneven and short.
you knew he wasn’t gonna stop until he got what he wanted. you wanted to walk away, leaving him standing there speechless, because your not his pet. someone who he can call to come to his beckoning.
but the friction was oh so deliciously good. you tried to blame it on not getting dicked down in a good bit. but no matter how hard you tried, your hips desperately moved on it’s own, relishing in the feeling it gave your neglected pussy.
your legs had a mind of its own, locking his knee in place. ignoring the uncomfortable smearing of the wet feeling in your panties. but he’s faster, his free hand halting your movement.
“answer the question.”
you cave in an instant.
“n-no. i’m never busy for you, nicholas.” you say in one breath, protesting with a dissatisfied hum.
“never?” he finally closes the gap, faces inches from yours. his lips murmuring against yours as you shake your head.
“use your words, pretty.” his whispers, breath warm as his lips ghosts over the corner of your mouth, and your hole clenched around nothing. yet.
a slow smile pulled at the corner of his own lips. the air thickens, like a storm is about the break. you both feel it in the way your body is pressed against his. in the way your pulse jumps before he even kisses you.
“no, i’m not. ever.”
that’s all he needed.
he tilts his head, just slightly, and his lips finally meet yours, firm and deliberate. the hand gripping your chin slides to your waist, pulling you in.
the kiss lands hard and certain, like something he’d been holding back the entire time. and you melt into it immediately. hands going to wrap around the back of his neck, fingers sliding into the ends of his thick locks. the tension that’s been coiled in your chest broke as you kiss him back.
you barely come up for air before you’re kissing him again, the two of you caught in that messy rhythm of pulling apart just long enough to breathe before your lips meet again.
but this time it’s deeper and hungrier. his hands traveling down to grope your ass, giving him the opportunity to slip his tongue between your lips.
The kiss steals the air from your lungs, messy and heated, the kind that makes it impossible to remember why you were ever annoyed with him in the first place.
“for someone who had an attitude earlier, i’d say you missed me.” he pulls back slightly for a second, both thumbs rubbing agonizing slow circles into your hips.
you’re a little breathless, but not so much that you can’t let out an annoyed huff, the sound airy and thin. it comes out weaker than you mean it to.
but that doesn’t stop him from waiting for an answer. before you can say anything else, he kisses you again, slower this time, less frantic but just as consuming.
“…says the one who pulled me into some shaggy bathroom.” you glance around the cramped space like it proves your point.
he just chuckles against your skin, giving you no time to collect yourself properly first. but all that leaves your conscious when his hand travels down to the button of your skirt, tugging at the belt loop.
“you didn’t have a problem with it when you followed, did you?” his lips leave yours, trailing lower along your jaw, then down the column of your neck again.
your throat bobbed as you swallowed because he had a point. he’s never gonna force you to do something you don’t want. you had all the opportunity to stop him before things got out of control. but you couldn’t help it.
not with the way his lips were set in a scowl when he first noticed you across the room. his sharp, cat-like eyes following your every move. or the way the party strobe lights danced across his clenched jaw as he stalked across the floor, stealing you from your friends.
“what’s wrong, baby? cat got your tongue?”
it was true, you had no excuse this time. and when he realized that, you barely had time to register what was happening before you feel him sink lower in front of you.
when you glance down, he’s already on his knees, eyes flicking up to meet yours with that same knowing look.
your breath catches.
and just like that, whatever control you thought you had left slips right through your fingers.
“fuck…nicholas.” his mouth trails upward marking and sucking along your leg, each kiss teasing, lingering, just long enough to make your grip tighten on the edge of the counter behind you.
one hand flies to his hair, while the other grips the counter tighter the closer he gets to the heat pooling between your thighs.
the music from the party outside thumps faintly through the walls, but it feels miles away now.
the only thing that exists is the slow trail of his lips and the way your pulse jumps every time he moves closer.
“still got that attitude?” he murmurs quietly, glancing up at you again, that same confident look in his eyes like he already knows the effect he’s having.
his hands gripped your thighs, fingers digging into soft flesh as he forced your legs apart, exposing you completely.
a small whimper came from your throat, but it wasn’t a protest, it was a need. your body yielding instantly to his touch. when it came down to it, you always subconsciously let him take control.
because in his demeanor, lay the thrill you craved. they way he dismantled your body piece by piece.
“no need to hide, let me hear those pretty moans, sweetheart.” his words dripped with that certain edge, a mix of mock sweetness and raw possession that made you shiver.
you knew this dance all too well. the way he pulled you back into his orbit every time, despite the wreckage he left behind.
the pull was too strong, the high too intoxicating, drawing you both back night after night, bodies colliding in this cycle of destruction and desire.
but the thing about the two of you, the thing neither of you ever bother pretending to think about, is that you both know exactly what this is.
not love.
not anything healthy.
just the same familiar pull that keeps dragging you back to each other, again and again. no matter how many times you try to break that pattern.
you fight too easily. know exactly where to press and exactly know where to hurt each other when your angry.
the kind of argument that end in slammed phones, days of silence, stubborn pride that convinces you this time, it’s finally over.
and every single time, you mean it. until you see him again. until one look across a room unravels all that distance like it never existed in the first place.
it isn’t even surprising anymore. just predictable. like gravity. because deep down, you both understand the truth neither of you ever says out loud: you’re terrible for each other.
too sharp around the edges. too stubborn. too willing to push past lines that should have stopped you long ago.
but walking away has never been your strong suit. and apparently, neither is staying away.
somewhere beyond the door, the party keeps going, music thumping, people laughing, the rest of the world completely unaware of the cycle you keep stepping right back into.
maybe tomorrow you’ll remember why you were supposed to be done with this. maybe tomorrow the frustration will come rushing back.
but tonight? tonight was already lost.
his voice cuts through your thoughts again, low and certain, like he’s never doubted the outcome for a second.
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