Fwb Soap has been plaguing my mind so bad recently
He’s the actual worst person in the world to get into a fwb situation with… contrary to popular belief I don't think this man can have casual sex
The first time you guys hooked up you were both pretty hammered, to your defense. He manhandled you to the bathroom while his mouth assaulted yours, and fucked you so hard in the bathroom nearly everyone was staring at you two when you left.
You didn't really talk to him for a while after that.... until he texted you "ye up? 😗" at God knows what hour. Truly a shameless man.
And yes, you answered, because he has the most beautiful blue eyes you've ever seen, and he kissed you like he was trying to meld your souls together and fucked you stupid in a grimy pub bathroom but it still somehow felt romantic.
Things were going pretty smooth for the first couple of weeks, surprisingly. You had an agreement. You were using each other for sex, it was simple. He was just someone you could go to that would help you relieve your stress or frustration. Definitely didn't fill some deep void inside of you that craves romance. Absolutely not, you told yourself. Not with him.
Soap didn't give a shit
He always said or did something that silently crosses the line that you’ve mutually agreed on. Pressing his sweaty forehead against yours, forcing you to meet his hungry eyes as you come.
Staying on top of you a little too long after he finishes, until the panting that fills the room settles down into slow, tired breaths.
Whispering gentle things that no one else will hear into your ear instead of the dirty talk you were promised. You think you might’ve even heard him croak out an “I love you” once when he came.
Begging you to stay the night, insisting that he sleeps better when you're here, close to him. Holding you flush to his chest, softly running his fingers through your hair while you drift off to sleep listening to the gentle rhythm of his heart.
He's even started to make you breakfast now. Walking into the bedroom in the morning, only in sweats that lay low on his hips, carrying a cup of coffee. Handing you the coffee, he leans into you and kisses your forehead.
"I made eggs. Not sure if ye like scrambled, but that's what I went with."
Okay fine, maybe you will give him an actual chance. You do like scrambled eggs, after all.











