The Reader invites Wardlow into her home as he recovers from his injury. He spends most of his days watching football and highlights, until you manage to steal away his attention.
Pairing: Wardlow x Reader
Warnings/Promises: social media trend, flirty Reader, SMUT, oral (male receiving), p-in-v, creampie, fluff
Word Count: 3100
Note: 'Been working on this one forever! Now I don’t believe Wardlow would actually be so easily distracted by any sport away from his lady-love, but it was fun to write. I’m also trying out a different format for this one. Let me know what you think about the format, fic, and any other thoughts in comments and reblogs. Happy reading!
Stuck home with his most recent injury, Wardlow had all the time in the world to build his perfect football bracket. He had time to build one for both college and the professional football leagues… and it was starting to drive you up the wall.
While you’re at work (either in the office or working from “home” when you’re in town), he watched hours of past seasons and highlight reels from the games that aired that weekend. At night, he watched his favorite horror movies. Having a TV in the living room and his home gym meant he didn’t have to miss a second.
You technically live in another city. When you have a set schedule to work from home, you travel to him. You’ve got your own room to use as an office and bedroom when he’s up late with either of his favorite topics.
He needed a break. You both knew it.
With a few days of working from home coming up, you invited him to stay at your apartment for a change of scenery.
He’s got his own drawer in your dresser for his clothes. Your apartment complex has a small gym, but there’s a Gold’s down the road too. And you told him about the park that’s ten minutes away where he can go for a run or add pictures of wildlife to his social media.
When you came home that night, it didn’t look like he had moved from the couch. The notebook and pen were out as his eyes are glued to your living room TV. But, as you set down your stuff, you noted that his hair was slightly wet, and he had changed his clothes.
“Did you enjoy your run?”
Wardlow grinned. “I did, Sherlock.” He muted the TV and leaned back in a big stretch. He pinched his thumb and forefinger on either side of his eyes before glancing at your stove’s clock. “You’re home early.”
“Mhmm.” You walked over, leaning over him to press a long, relaxing kiss onto his lips. Wardlow hummed up into your push, smoothing a hand over your thigh in an attempt to pull you onto his lap. “Nuh-uh.” You stepped away with a groan. “Want to get out of my office clothes.”
His grin deepened. “You can do that right here.”
“Not with the blinds open I won’t.”
In the time it took him to glance over at your windows letting in too much sunlight to be decent, you hurried to your bedroom to change your clothes. The short day-dress/sundress you changed into had been the plan long before you invited him over. You swore you were only gone for a minute. But when you came back, he was already deeply enthralled in the next play. You sagged against the hallway wall.
At least he’s put the notebook down. And closed the blinds. His thighs had man-spread over an impressive area on the seat cushion. He had one arm tossed over the low back of the couch, while his other hand worried his beard as he listened to the commentators analyzing the team.
You needed to keep him from worrying his beard so much. If you were honest with yourself, you needed to keep him from worrying about a lot of things.
An idea popped into your head. Your mind latched onto that old social media trend that had fizzled out before you even met your War Dog.
Tilting your head to make sure he was still focused on the screen, you snagged a pillow from the armchair. You plopped it between his open thighs and knelt.
Wardlow’s gaze immediately shifted to your smug face. His wide eyes took in your hands pulling back your hair into a ponytail (or as best of what you could manage with your current hair length) and his thighs spread further. A surprised, bemused smile spread across his face. As your hands smoothed up and down his thighs, he settled back into the couch.
Suddenly, you turned and sat down, snagging his hands to rest them on your shoulders. “Can you massage my neck for me, darling? I think I turned it weird at work today.”
You bit your lip to cover up the giggle that threatened to respond to his irritated growl.
“Of course.”
Wardlow’s massage was a little rough at first. But as the sports channel switched to another highlight reel, his hands actually began to knead your neck and shoulders. Your spaghetti straps fell off your shoulders as he spread his large hands wide over your skin.
The first moan that fell from your lips gave him pause.
“You doin’ alright down there?”
“Mhmm. Keep watching your show, but don’t stop, please. Your hands feel so good.”
His continuing massage was hesitant. Like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to focus on the play-by-play or on massaging you into making more of those sounds. You weren’t very vocal in bed, choosing instead to listen to him and to speak with your hands running all over him.
You hummed high and delighted at his touch.
While he gently squeezed the back of your neck with one hand, he turned the TV down with the other. Smoothly, he removed your hair tie. His touch slid up your hairline until his whole hand was buried in your hair. With the warmth from his hand, and the way he was lightly squeezing it over your scalp, you couldn’t help but let your mouth hang open with a sigh. Wardlow’s body stiffened as your eyes closed.
“I know what you’re doing,” he mumbled.
“Good.”
“Thin walls. Not like the ones I’ve got back at the house.”
“Why do you think I came home early?”
Turning in his grip, you returned to your earlier kneeling position. Wardlow was there with ready lips and a moan of his own. He titled your face up with a light grip on your chin. Your hands returned to resting on his thighs.
Just as you reached for the waistline of his sweatpants, Wardlow’s eyes flicked up towards the screen. His eyes brightened as some part of a play pleased him. You sat back on your heels.
“You know, you seem pretty focused on the game. Maybe we should do this later.”
Wardlow caught your forearms before you could leave. “No! I – we can do this now.” It took a hesitating moment longer than you would have liked, but he eventually turned off the TV. He kissed over your pout.
His hands continued to hold you close as you leaned up into his chest from your position on the floor. Wardlow knew he would have been lying if he said having you on your knees didn’t do it for him. But he wanted you beneath him in another way.
You resisted his attempts to drag you to your feet. With your teeth, you barely nipped at his throat, making him gasp and laugh. Again, your hands drifted to the waistband of his sweats.
He was oblivious. His hands couldn’t get enough of your bare shoulders. His lips needed to kiss every inch of your skin from one side of your neck to the other. Meanwhile, your own reach snuck beneath his sweats and maneuvered to your goal.
Wardlow let out a strangled moan as your hand gently gripped the base of his cock. Your slow, deliberate strokes finished bringing him to a full, thick mast. His hips flinched, silently begging for more.
Above you, Wardlow’s body sagged towards you. His mouth rested open against your temple. He fought to catch his breath. “How—how long have you been planning this?” When you weren’t forthcoming, he cracked open his eyes to catch the smug, mischievous gleam in your gaze. “I never stood a chance did I?”
“Nope.”
His eyes widened further as you guided him to lay back. With you still on your knees, you were in the perfect position to give him a show as you began to tease the tip of his cock with your tongue. He settled into the cushions, occasionally tossing his head back as you caught a sensitive place, then forcing his head back up so he could watch.
You knew what you looked like. Especially as you swallowed him down for the first few times. With the way he was *built*, taking him into your throat was a bit of a struggle. But he never seemed to care if you couldn’t take him all the way.
He couldn’t make up his mind what part of you he wanted to watch more. Your mouth kept drawing his gaze as you took turns wrapping your lips around his length and then smiling as you stroked your hands around him and catching your breath. But when you were stroking him… damn. The angle of his view placed his cock in line with your cleavage. Maybe if he asked nicely, you would let him cum on your chest so he could enjoy that view instead. Then you swallowed him down again and his mind went blank.
He was close. Too close, and too soon.
Running his fingers up and into your hair again, Wardlow held your hair back so he could see your face. But when his hand was wide and warm against your skull, he used the leverage of your hair to pull you away.
“You doin’ okay, baby?” you crooned. His glare made you smile. His grip tightened on your hair when you tried to descend your lips onto his cock again. With a pout, you sat back. “What?”
He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Too much, too soon. Wanna feel you around me.”
You managed to lick up his length before he pulled you away again. “I thought that’s what I was doing.”
With his control still deep in your hair, he managed to drag you to your feet. His free arm wrapped around your waist. You thought he was headed to your bedroom, but he surprised you with bending you over the back of the couch. You caught the sight of your reflection in the tv of him looming behind you. It sent a thrillish zing up your spine.
“How long have you been planning this,” you teased. But your tease ran out as he leaned in close over you.
He shook his head. “We christened your bed the last time I was here. And I believe I promised to have you against every surface given half a chance.” With a pleased hum, he flipped up the skirt of your dress. The sight almost made him choke. You weren’t wearing a stitch under the fabric. He gripped both globes of your ass and gave them a squeeze. “Gonna have you right here.”
You squeaked as he titled you forward, making you brace yourself on the seat cushions as he raised your hips up closer to his face.
More than anything he wanted to eat you out until you were a messy puddle. But the throbbing of his cock could not be ignored for much longer. He settled for a cheeky open-mouthed bite of your ass, then settled you into place. Just having your thighs around his length made his vision blurry. Easing into your sex threatened to white-out his sight entirely.
It was a good thing your couch sat on a rug. Or your floors would have been scratched to hell with the way his thrusts threatened to scrape the furniture across the floor.
Your vision was spotty at best. Every so often you’d catch your reflection again, and it would make you gasp every time.
His grip on your hips was impossible to ignore and to escape. With your position over the back of the couch, your toes barely touched the floor for more than a second. Your nails scratched into the cushions.
And you were loud. Yes, there was the obvious sound of him filling you, making you gush more and more with each thrust. But the angle of it all made little moans and pleased yelps pour from your lips. Then he dragged your thigh to rest on the back of the couch, opening you up further. The cry that escaped you was like nothing you’d ever managed.
“So was that all I had to do, hmm?” Wardlow chuckled. “Just tilt you at the right angle and make those pretty sounds pour right out of you. What will the neighbors think?”
“Don’t fucking care. Please, don’t stop.” You reached your hand back for his hip as if you could pull him into you any deeper.
You needn’t have bothered. Wardlow was in no mood to make you wait nor to let you work towards your release alone.
By the time his thrusts reached a thunderous speed, you were delirious and your arms hung loosely off the front of the couch.
Then he wrapped his arm under your waist, lifting you up. His fingers brushed first through your slick. Then they barely brushed over your clit. He groaned as your walls spasmed around his length. Wardlow held still as your body shivered and quaked.
Hazily, you caught sight of yourself in the tv.
Wardlow caught sight of you too. The dark screen wasn’t a good enough reflection to show you his full expression, but you could see the way he suddenly grinned.
He toyed with your clit again, making your walls shiver with over stimulation.
Dragging you back, he positioned you so your feet were on sturdy ground and your head was resting on your arms on the back of your couch. His cock never left you. So when he began to thrust again, your body rocked obscenely.
You cried out. The new angle meant he could spear into you deeper than you thought possible. Small gaps and whimpers passed your lips. But he kept going. Surely he was ready to burst soon?
“I—I thought---”
“What?” Wardlow chuckled behind you. He slowed his thrusts to a stop, then pulled out so he could lazily run his cock over your slick. “Don’t worry. I’ll fill you up soon. Been waiting all day to feel you around me. Don’t want to waste it.”
His hand slid warm and solid over your collarbones. On its way past, his thumb stroked gently at the curve of your neck. All the while, he continued to roll his hips, sliding his length over your slick again and again. It blinded you to the way his other arm scooped under your hips.
He suddenly kicked your legs closed, trapping his length between your thighs. You mewled as his rhythm picked up again. His cock-head caught your clit enough to make your whines come out broken and needy.
It was a good thing that his arms were under your hips and shoulders. Your grip faltered on the couch and you would have fallen otherwise.
Wardlow breathed steadily as he felt the way your body trembled beneath him. He controlled the pace. It brought him no small joy that the mess between your thighs was plenty to enjoy. If he could think straight later, he would definitely eat you out in this same position until you were dripping again. But for now, your hands were desperately clawing at the couch and tugging at his grip. Your voice was breathy and pleading. You begged for him to fill you like he promised. How could he deny you?
Tilting you back in his grip, he kissed the back of your neck.
Then he tossed your thigh back to its place on the back of the couch and filled you in a breath.
You mangled a cry and fought to fill your lungs with air as he filled and refilled you with his cock.
He couldn’t keep his eyes open. Which was a shame. Because the bounce of your body on his cock from behind was a sight he wanted to memorize. But with his eyes closed, he could hone in all the pretty new sounds you were giving him. He moved faster, chasing the end that you had teased him with earlier.
“Are you ready, baby?” His grip on your hip tightened as your walls fluttered. “Takin’ me so good. Letting me have you this way. Never gonna be able to walk into this room without thinking about today.”
Was he talking about his own memory or yours?
It didn’t matter. Because he twisted his hips to catch that place within you that made you see stars. You shivered and moaned high and airy, and again as he thrust hard and stilled within you.
Wardlow did his best to keep his hands from bruising you as every muscle in his body flexed with his release. He calmed himself down with a few more thrusts. Each drag of his length sent a zing up his spine. And each pass made your body rock forward.
He shed his shirt so he could use it to clean up most of the mess between your thighs. Tossing it to one side, he promised to drop it in the wash later. He tucked himself away. Then, begrudgingly, he flipped your skirt down over his favorite sight.
Taking you into his arms, he grinned to see your blissed-out face. Your eyes kept fluttering. Did they flutter that way when you fluttered around him? He would have to look for it next time.
He gently laid you out on the couch, then spread over you to rest his head on your chest.
“So how was your day?”
You breathed a laugh. “Are you serious?”
“Mhmm.” He grinned. His lips pursed in that way they did when he was about to sass. “So? Did what’s-his-face cause any problems today?”
Rolling your eyes, you did your best to say that your coworker did not make your day difficult. But all you could focus on was how Wardlow had slotted his body between your thighs so he didn’t crush you. It made you feel open. And you were hyper-aware of the way your sex was still thrumming. You complained under your breath about your ability to think in full sentences after what he did to you.
It just made him laugh.
If he kept stroking his thumb across the swell of your breasts like that, he was going to either guide you to sleep, or inspire another flame of need.
Wardlow stroked the valley between your breasts with his nose. Another round or a nap, he didn’t mind. He would do whatever it took to make your mind as blank and worry free as you had made his.
***
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