Smackdown was in Seattle tonight, but you didn't feel like hanging around backstage this time. You didn't totally feel like hanging around your hotel room all night either. You decide to slip into a pair of compression shorts and sports bra before throwing on an oversized t-shirt and heading to the elevator with your water bottle and headphones in hand.
Listening to the hum of the elevator on the way down, you slip in an earbud and find your way to your workout playlist. A loud âdingâ snaps you to attention as you make a beeline for the hotel gym. You walk in and it's surprisingly well furnished with equipment. You head over the mats to stretch out first.
While you're mid lunge, the door screeches open. In walks CM Punk. You were still technically on the NXT roster and he was signed to RAW, but you still ran into each other pretty often and you've had some good conversations. It was always a bit intimidating for you; he was this big star and the hottest thing you had ever seen.
You just stared at your mat, easing yourself up into a squat and picking up the kettlebell. He clearly sees you. Walking over and setting his stuff down on the mat next to you, he looks at you with a smile and a wave. You smile and wave back at the end of your set.
Seeing him mouth something to you, you take out your earbuds. âHuh?â âOh, I was just asking how you were doing. I like to check in on the NXT stars, and you seem to be doing quite well for yourself.â He almost trips over his words, kind of like he's nervous talking to you. You blush at the sentiment. CM Punk thinks you're doing a good job. âThanks,â you say back. âI'm doing pretty good, just warming up. What about you? How've you been?â You can see his body relax as he says, âOh, y'know, the usual. It's been good.â
After a moment in silence, Punk speaks. âYou mind if we stretch together? I could use some help.â You pause for a moment. âOh, uh, yeah sure.â âWhat do you usually start with?â he asks, clapping his hands together in anticipation. You stutter a bit, still caught off guard by his instant familiarity, âI tend to start off low and make my way up, so lets do some lunges.â You lower yourself into position. Looking over to your side, Punk lowers himself as well. He interrupts your exhale, âHow long?â âCount of ten,â you reply, not breaking your focus on the floor. He switches legs, following your example. The only sound in the room is the hum of the AC and Punk counting under his breath.Â
Lifting yourselves up separately, Punk makes a suggestion: âHow would you feel about trying some partner stretches?â You look back, a bit puzzled. After a brief pause, you say. âSure, I could try that.â He meets your eyes when saying âDo you wanna start, or should I?â âUh, I think I could use an example. How about you start?â âYeah,â he replies. âSo, Iâll start on my back. Iâm going to lift my leg up.â He takes a pause, allowing you to nod in understanding. âAll you have to do is put some pressure right here.â He pats his hamstring. Itâs right above where his thigh meets his ass.
You hesitate, cheeks slightly flushed before getting down on your knees. Placing your hand right where he had pat, you lean into him. You try to look up, avoiding eye contact, but heâs staring right at you. He says under his breath, âAlright letâs do the other leg.â As heâs switching over his legs, you notice a growth in the center of his gym shorts. He notices you noticing his growing erection; his only response is a smile as he lifts up the other leg, allowing you to lean into him. You get closer to him this time and now you can feel the tip of his hard cock poking lightly at your stomach.
Heâs counting under his breath again, âFive, six, seven, eight,â but youâre only focused by another growing feeling in you. Your body is craving him. Heâs not even trying to pretend that itâs not there or that you donât notice. He just puts his leg down, lifts his head, and leans his face into yours. A slow, hard, passionate kiss as he tangles his hands into your hair. After pulling away, still holding your head, he says âYou donât mind this, do you?â You rest a hand on his wrist. âNo. No, not at all.â Now you knew that you both wanted this. Punk, snaking his hands down to your shoulders, He stands himself up. Pulling you up with him, you donât even have to support your own weight with the way heâs holding you.
He wraps his hands around your back and pulls you closer. He peels off his muscle shirt, just like when he's in the ring; it's so much sexier like this. He leans his head down to kiss you on your forehead. As heâs pulling you tighter, your face sinks into his chest. You kiss him across his chest while you begin tugging at the hem of his shorts. His hands are snaking up your back and he swipes your sports bra over your head. He cups your breasts in his hands, thumbing around the sensitive skin of your nipples. He only pushes your desire further.
Wrapping your fingers around the elastic of his gym shorts, you pull them down and let them fall to his ankles. You move to his underwear. Pulling at the front, you allow his throbbing cock to spring free, already dripping and wet with precum. You lower yourself and pull his underwear down with you as you trail kisses down his stomach. Youâre kissing at the tip, teasing him. Punk places a hand on the back of your head, gently but surely he draws your face closer to his cock. You oblige and open your mouth wide, engulfing him. He lets out a sigh. Bobbing your head up and down his member, he grips your hair tighter when saying, âOh, fuck yes. Good girl.â
You continue to salivate around him, putting further pressure upon his stem with the walls of your cheeks. He tugs at your hair by the roots, pulling your head off of him. You look back up, wiping your mouth. He opens his. âYouâre such a perfect little princess, arenât you? Let me see how well you can really take it. Punk shakes off his fallen shorts and underwear as he swings himself around to the back of you. He rests his palm on your shoulderblade, pushing you to lean forward. Bending over you, you feel his stiff, strong dick poking your lower back as he brings his hands up to cup your breasts once again. For a second time, playing with the sensitive skin, he asks you, âAre you ready?â You look into his eyes from the mirror and nod. âYes, absolutely. Fuck me.â
Sliding himself into you, Punk lets out a guttural groan, âFuck, baby, youâre so wet for me.â He squeezes your tits harder as he pushes himself further and faster into you. Punk snakes his hands down to your hips and all the way up your back, feeling every inch of you While you're down on your hands and knees, Punk picks up your ponytail at the base, tugging slightly. He lifts your head to look dead into the wall of mirrors in front of the free weights, making you watch as he slides in and out of you from behind. âLook at you, gorgeous. So hot, taking it all so good.â His cock stretches your pussy as your walls consume him. Every voice inside your head just stops. Theyâre all replaced by his breaths as he pumps his cock into you.Â
âOh my god.â You let out a moan. âFuck, Punk.â His dick is pushing further into you, reaching your sweet spot. As he pumps in and out, he hits that perfect spot as you let out a stream of ecstatic âYes, yes, yes!â Punk tugs harder on your hair as he says, âYeah, baby. You gonna cum for me?â âOh, yes, Punk.â âCum all over me, baby.â He brings down a hand, keeping the other in your hair, and he cups your pussy as he takes his thumb to rub circles around your clit. Heâs teasing you, trying to get you past your breaking point. âYouâre doing so well, princess,â he says, smiling at you in the mirror. You bite your lip tp stiffle a moan. No one is around, but youâre scared of being heard and caught.
Punk speeds up inside of you. Your walls clench around him. Before you realize it, youâre gushing around him. Punk can feel it. âYes, good girl. Cum all over me, baby.â He opens his mouth, trying to speak. He struggles to get the words out. âY/n, Iâm gonna cum.â âYes, Punk. Fill me up,â you reply, exhausted from your own orgasm. His thrusts become erratic. With a final rough, deep pump, his chest crashes onto your back. You feel his warmth fill you in waves as he continues his thrusting. With a whimper, he pulls away from your body and slides out of you.
He sits up on his knees. You turn around and do the same. Punk gently grabs your jaw and pulls your lips to his. Before leaning into a warm, intimate kiss he says, âThat was amazing, baby.â You nod. Youâre just quiet. You all good?â He asks. You reply, âYeah, Iâm really good.â âAlright,â He pauses for a moment, contemplating, before saying, âSo, my room or yours?â You think, sort of stunned by what heâs said. âYou decide, handsome.â He stands up, offers out a hand and helps you up off your knees. Punks bends around and picks up your clothes and his, allowing you both to get dressed before walking back to the elevator and heading up to CM Punkâs hotel room. One floor below yours, you curl up in the well-made bed alongside Punk. You spend the night, just wrapped in his arms before slowly drifting off to sleep while he watches what little was left on Smackdown that night.
[roh] cm punk x reader â friends (?) to (?) lovers (?) honestly this can be seen as platonic if you call your bros pretty and lowkey fall in love with them when they wash your hair
cw: mentions of blood, bruises, and cuts. typical wrestling violence. angst? question mark? nothing crazy. takes place right after punkâs dog-collar match with raven.
wc: 1.5(ish)k
note: i havenât written in a few months, and never anything this long (though this is quite short), pls forgive me if this sucks!!! sheâs very self-indulgent, but sheâs mine. title is a song by car seat headrest.
punkâs upper body was slick and slightly sticky from the beer poured over him less than an hour earlier. worse than that, the blood from his busted-up forehead had dyed his bleach-blond hair a deep maroon. the beat-red pattern of chain links strewn across his back would undoubtedly grow into nasty bruises in the next few days.
overall, he looked wrecked.
the ride to his hotel was one spent with punk groaning each time he shifted against the seat. there was no doubt that he was smearing blood along your headrest, but you couldnât find it in you to care about the possible stains, not with him hurting like this. he initially planned to ride with some of the other guys, but you knew he'd just wind up passed out on the floor of his room once the adrenaline died down.
you could feel his eyes on you as you made your way across townâopening and closing his mouth a few times as if to say something, but the words never left his mouth. what was there to say? did he have to apologize to you every time he let himself get roughed up like this? the dog-collar match with raven was one he willingly walked into, and one you were fully aware of. there was absolutely no reason for you to be feeling how you felt. was it anger? was it fear? whatever it may be, it was unnecessary.
âare you mad at me or somethinâ?â
your hands gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter as you willed yourself to keep your eyes on the road. you didnât look at him, nor did you answer him. not to be petty, but because you werenât quite sure how you felt. maybe your choice to remain silent was your way of preventing yourself from seeming more concerned than a friend should be.
punk huffed, and shifted again to lean against the passenger door. only then, when you knew he wouldnât be looking at you to read your expression, did you glance at him. blond strands stuck to his temples and cheeks, blood beginning to crust along his hairline, and a small (but deep) gash on his forehead. heâd remained shirtless after his match, using the shirt heâd planned to change into to rub off as much blood as he could as to not completely ruin your passenger seat. that thoughtfulness even through his pain was enough to have your heart aching a little bit, but not enough to shake this nasty feeling you had.
you had been worried. it was only a few minutes into the match before he started bleeding, and it only got worse as time went on. from your seat in the back corner of the venue, you listened to the crowd cheer as punk was launched into the barriers. you felt a little sick watching the blood flow from his head as the crowd chanted for raven, but you knew he knew what he was doing.
he knew how the match would pan out, and that shouldâve been all the reassurance you needed.
as you turned into the hotel parking garage, you mentally prepared yourself for the questioning that was soon to come. admittedly, you had never been this⌠reserved with him before. there were obviously a lot of feelings you werenât exactly honest about, but never had you ever completely shot down conversation with him.
pulling into a spot, you quickly turn the car off and make your way around to his side. opening his door, you lean down to grab your bag that was sat at his feet. before you could step back, he grabbed your arm, keeping you bent at eye-level. only then did you meet his eyes, his grip leaving you no other choice.
punk gave a shaky exhale, "can you jusâ tell me why youâre acting like this?â he looked defeated. here he was, exhausted from tonightâs match, and yet you couldnât muster up even a lie to ease his mind right now. âletâs talk upstairs,â you sighed, shaking off his grip and stepping back to guide him out of your car and up to his hotel room.
âËâŽ
you were right, he did damn near collapse once he entered his room. turning your back to him to lock the door, he let out a groan as he leaned against the closest wall for support. when you turned back to him, punk had just managed to kick his shoes off before finally sliding to the floor. you followed suit, your shoulder pressed against his with every breath, and each inhale brought the scent of blood. when you glanced at him, you found punk already staring at you with his head resting on his arms.
âi was worried,â you admitted, âi know you know what youâre doing, i know that this is your job and you understand it all far better than i do, but i still worry.â you felt hot; you felt like you admitted to more than just friendly concern. âit was⌠i just didnât enjoy watching you get busted up like that. you were bleeding like crazy from the jump.â punk hummed, offering a tired smirk, âyâ couldâve said that sooner⌠had me thinking i did something wrong over here.â you smiled along with him, giving a dramatic eye-roll as you bumped him with your elbow, âyeah, well. needed to make you sweat a little after making me watch you bleed all over the mat.â
the air felt lighter when he laughed, and maybe that's what gave you the confidence to reach over and brush his bloodied hair from his face. when you pulled away, your hand was a matching shade of red. "i'm thinking it's time to wash that off, punker," you sighed. standing up, you heard punk groan for the umpteenth time that night as you offered him a hand. he took your hand but remained folded on the ground, "i donât think i have the energy for all that tonight.â
you hummed, thumbing over his knuckles for a minute before reaching down to help him up. he reluctantly stood, but quickly slumped against you. his bloody forehead pushed into your neck as his hands gripped onto your hips for balance. each breath came out ragged and warm against your chest, and your hands quickly found his biceps in attempt to keep him upright.
âhah,â punk breathily laughed, âjusâ help me back down⌠âm gettinâ you all bloody.â
you ignored him, instead wiggling your arms under his to wrap around his torso, shuffling the two of you into the bathroom behind you. punk winced when you switched the light on without warning after managing to push him up onto the counter. the harsh lighting did him no favors, but you didnât mind. he found a way to look pretty despite the bloody mess raven made of him. he leaned back, propped by his arms while he watched you run the shower and dig through the stack of towels under the sink for smaller rags. when you rose up, you cradled an armful of white ragsâsoon to be stained. punk looked at you with a face full of confusion, "angel, 'm seriously not sure i'll be vertical long enough to get all thisâ" he dramatically motioned to his head, "âoff." you side-eyed him as you picked up some of the travel-sized soaps from the counter, "i'm not making you do anything, you're just gonna lean your head into the tub so i can wash your hair. or did you want to explain the bloody bed to the receptionist tomorrow?"
that was apparently all the convincing punk needed. you quickly found yourself kneeled beside him and pressed into his side as you used the shower head to wet his hair. you didnât comment on the way he moaned when you massaged the shampoo into his scalp, and in turn he pretended not to notice you were pressed closer than necessary. you rinsed and repeated with the conditioner. there was intimacy in the way you willingly took care of him; washing away the evidence of violence, gently scrubbing until the water ran clear. you ran back to the entryway to grab a brush from your bag and proceeded to brush through his hair with more care than youâd ever done for yourself.
he made it all too easy to feel this way, some loving feeling that couldnât quite be described with words. whatever it was, whatever spell he cast on you, it made you into someone gentle.
once his hair faded back to an obnoxious yellow, you wrapped a towel around his head. âyouâre looking like a mom right now,â you joked, to which punk dramatically rolled his eyes. assuming you were done, he moved to stand but you pressed his shoulders back down. you guided his back to lean off of the tub, and began wetting the rags you grabbed earlier. punk found himself confused yet again; he opened his mouth to question you, but the words left his brain when he felt the warm rag drag across his back. he couldâve cried right there beside you, but screwed his eyes shut before the sting of tears could begin. you didnât notice, too focused on softly wiping the dried blood from his skin.
punk thought he saw heaven there on the floor of his cheap hotel bathroom â some angel from above, one he certainly didnât deserve, doting on him like he was something special. and maybe thatâs what he was, what they were. something more than just platonic. something more than romantic. something special.
Summary: After having some trouble falling asleep, you decided to burn some of your late night energy in the hotel gym, when you find you're not alone.
     Youâre a brand-new face on the main roster, only a couple months removed from NXT. The whole San Francisco trip was supposed to be exciting, but instead youâve spent the last two hours rolling back and forth in bed, the nerves for tomorrowâs Raw gnawing at you.
Your phone glows on the nightstand, 2:04 AM.
âGreat,â you mutter under your breath, shoving the covers off. Laying here isnât helping. Neither is the shower you took earlier, the rain sounds you tried with your AirPods in, or that guided meditation video you found on YouTube.
Your stomach twists with nerves for tomorrow, another live Monday Night Raw, another chance to prove you belong here. But right now, the only thing youâre proving is that youâre terrible at sleeping under pressure.
With a groan, you swing your legs out of bed and dig through your bag for your sneakers. If youâre not going to rest, you might as well move. A late-night workout couldnât hurt.
The hotel is quiet when you slip into the hallway, the buzzing of the lights above and the faint sound of someone snoring the only sound you can make out. The elevator ride feels endless in the silence, the only sound the faint hum of machinery. When the doors slide open to the lobby, you head straight for the door tucked in the corner that reads GYM. You knew no one was going to be up this late working out, so you just threw on a pair of gym shorts and an oversized camo tee, not trying to impress anyone.
But when you push open the door, youâre hit with the rhythmic hum of a treadmill.
You freeze.
Because there he is, CM Punk.
Sleeves shoved up, hoodie slightly damp with sweat, air pods in his ears as he runs. Your reflection catches him in the mirror, and he slows to a jog before stepping off, grabbing a towel.
âYou kinda startled me,â he says, taking his air pods out of his ears and shoving them into the pocket of his gym shorts.
âStartled you? I didnât think anyone would be working out this late,â you say, shrugging, trying to act casual despite the flutter in your chest.
He chuckles, shaking his head as he tosses the towel over a nearby bench press. âYeah, neither did I⌠insomnia makes for weird hours. Guess weâre both in the same boat.â
You glance at the treadmill heâd been using, then back at him. âJust⌠trying to burn off some nerves.â
He raises an eyebrow, stepping closer. âNerves? Rookie jitters?â His grin is playful, but thereâs a hint of understanding in his voice.
âRookie?â you ask, chuckling, trying to keep your voice light.
He smirks, checking his smart watch, âYeah, rookie. Fresh on the main roster. Canât sleep, wandering the hotel at 2 AM⌠that about sums it up.â
You roll your eyes, though you canât hide the grin. âI suppose thatâs fair. But youâre up late too, so maybe weâre both rookies in the insomnia club.â
He laughs, a short, genuine sound that makes the air feel a little warmer despite the hum of the gym equipment. âI like the sound of that. Guess weâre lucky the gymâs open 24/7.â
You glance around at the empty room, the quiet buzzing of machines filling the space. âI didnât think Iâd run into anyone tonight. Definitely not⌠you.â
He shrugs casually, but thereâs a playful glint in his eye. âYeah, well⌠surprises keep life interesting, donât they?â
âYeah⌠they do. Are you just finishing up, orâŚâ you trail off, glancing at the weights and treadmill.
âNah, I just started a bit ago,â he says, walking over to the bench press. He glances at you with that teasing grin. âSpot me?â
You raise an eyebrow, half amused, half caught off guard. âSpot you?â
âYeah, just in case,â he replies, shrugging casually, though thereâs a playful challenge in his tone.
You canât help the laugh that escapes you. âAlright, sure. But donât expect me to go easy just because itâs⌠late-night gym hour.â
He chuckles, loading the weights. âWouldnât dream of it.â
You step closer to the bench press, positioning yourself behind the bench. âAlright, just tell me if itâs too heavy,â you say, trying to keep your voice steady even as your pulse quickens slightly.
He smirks over his shoulder. âDonât worry about me. Iâve lifted heavier before.â
You raise an eyebrow. âUh-huh. Famous last words?â
He chuckles, sliding under the bar and gripping it. âMaybe. You ready?â
âAlways,â you tease, fingers brushing the bar lightly as you help guide it. He starts pressing upward, and you instinctively mirror the motion, keeping your hands close in case he needs support.
You couldnât help but stare as his muscles flexed underneath his hoodie with each lift, his jaw tight, lips pressed together in concentration. Your chest felt a little warmer, your heartbeat quickening as he let out a low grunt with the effort.
âCareful there,â he murmurs between reps, catching the subtle way your eyes lingered. âDonât get distracted on me now.â
You bite your lip, a small laugh escaping you, trying to shake the sudden flutter in your stomach. âDistracted? Me? Never.â
He smirks, lowering the bar and letting you steady it. âUh-huh. Sure you werenât.â
You roll your eyes, though the corner of your mouth quirks up into a grin. âOkay, maybe I was a little⌠distracted. But can you blame me?â
He laughs, low and easy, the kind of laugh that makes your chest warm. âBlame you? Nah⌠Iâd be lying if I said I didnât notice.â
You feel your cheeks heat up, quickly looking down at the barbell instead of meeting his gaze. âGood to know Iâm⌠not the only one noticing,â you murmur, voice barely above the hum of the machines.
Phil does one more rep and then carefully places the barbell back on the rack, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead with his towel. He leans back slightly, breathing a little heavier now, and gives you a small, teasing smirk.
âYou know,â he says, eyebrows quirking, âfor a newbie, youâve got good timing. Right when Iâm lifting the heavy stuff⌠you just happen to be standing there.â
You laugh, raising an eyebrow. âIs that your way of saying Iâm distracting?â
âMaybe,â he replies with a grin. âOr maybe Iâm saying youâve got⌠good taste in late-night workouts. Shows dedication. And bravery. I like that.â
You shake your head and laugh, âYouâre not very subtle when you flirt, Punk.
He chuckles, shrugging with mock innocence. âSubtle is overrated. Besides, if Iâm being honest⌠I like seeing that little smirk on your face when I tease you.â
You bite your lip, trying not to grin too wide. âOh really? Is that what you call teasing?â
âAbsolutely,â he says, stepping a little closer, the towel now draped over his shoulder. âFlirt, tease, mess with you just enough to keep things interesting. And judging by that smirk, Iâd say itâs working.â
He walks closer, close enough that you can almost feel his breath on your head. Your heart skips a beat, and you instinctively take a small step back, though your eyes donât leave his.
Then his hands rest gently on your hips, and your chest tightens, your face warming as your heart races.
âIs this okay?â he asks, voice low but careful.
You nod, barely able to speak, your throat suddenly dry.
He leans in just slightly, enough that the world around you, the hum of the machines and the TV in the distance, the quiet of the empty gym, fades away. His eyes flick to yours, searching, teasing, confident all at once.
âCareful,â he murmurs, voice low and teasing. âI might get used to this.â
You canât help the small laugh that escapes, soft and nervous. âGet used to what? The fact that you can make me blush standing still?â
He smirks, thumb brushing lightly over your hip. âThat, and the fact that youâre⌠surprisingly easy to fluster.â
Your cheeks burn hotter, but you find yourself leaning just a little closer, caught between curiosity and the thrill of this unexpected closeness.
âIâuhâŚâ you start, words failing you as his gaze holds yours.
He grins, leaning just a hair closer, so your foreheads nearly touch. âRelax. Iâm not going to bite⌠unless you want me to,â he teases, letting his voice dip playfully.
Your heart hammers in your chest, and you canât stop the shy laugh that slips out. âYouâre really confident, huh?â
âMaybe,â he replies with a wink, âbut I think you like it.âÂ
Before you can process what is going on, he leans in slowly, giving you the chance to pull back if you want, but you donât. Your eyes flutter closed just as his lips meet yours in a soft, deliberate kiss.
Your chest tightens, and your hands instinctively brush against his shoulders, holding on for balance as your heart races. The kiss is gentle at first, teasing, as if heâs testing the waters, but thereâs a warmth and certainty behind it that makes your knees feel a little weak.
Then he deepens the kiss, wrapping his arms firmly around your waist, pulling you closer. The world around you, the hum of the machines, the quiet of the late-night gym, fades completely. Your breath hitches, and you instinctively lean into him, your hands sliding to rest against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palms.
When he finally pulls back just slightly, forehead resting against yours, his eyes dark with a mixture of mischief and something softer, he murmurs, âHad to make sure you felt that⌠fully.â
You canât stop the soft laugh that escapes you, cheeks still flushed. âYeah⌠I felt that.â
He smiles, lips brushing yours again in a fleeting kiss, testing the moment. His fingers tighten just slightly at your waist, pulling you closer until you're pressed flush against him. The heat between you is undeniable now, the space between your bodies nearly nonexistent.
You tilt your head back slightly, meeting his gaze with eyes that show more curiosity than hesitation. He sees it, the way your breath catches, the way your fingers curl slightly into the fabric of his hoodie like you don't want to let go.
"That's what I wanted to see," he murmurs, voice rough but quiet. "That little spark right there."
His hand slides up your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he pulls you closer, his other hand resting at the small of your back. The kiss deepens, hungry and intense. After a moment, he pulls back just slightly, his forehead resting against yours again, both of you breathing a little heavier than before. His eyes meet yours, dark and intense, with a spark of amusement flickering in them.
"That," he says, voice husky, "was a really good distraction." He grins, still holding you close, his hands slowly caressing your back as if he's savoring the moment.
âWell,â You start, now confident, âI can show you a better way to warm up.â
His grin widens, a slow, hungry curve as he listens to your words. His fingers tighten against your back, pulling you even closer. The space between you vanishes entirely, and now you can feel every hard plane of his body against yours, his warmth seeping into your skin. His eyes flick down to your lips, and when they meet yours again, they're dark with promise.
"Yeah?" he murmurs, and his mouth finds yours before you can respond.
This kiss is different, still soft in places, but more demanding. His hand slides up your neck, to tangling in your hair again, the other pressing firmly against your hip which surely would leave a bruise. Your hands travel up his chest, feeling his muscles flex underneath the fabric of his hoodie.
As the kiss deepens, suddenly you're aware of how little space separates you from Phil, how his body feels pressed flush against yours. His hands tighten around you, pulling you even closer, and you don't resist. You let him guide you backward until your back hits the wall beside the free weights rack, the hard, cold surface a stark contrast to the heat between you.
His lips leave yours just long enough for him to trail down to your neck, teeth grazing lightly along your pulse point. You gasp, fingers digging into his shoulders as he continues his exploration, his breathing ragged in your ear.
"Should we... get somewhere more private?" he murmurs against your skin, the words hot and rough.
You glance around the corners of the gym, checking for cameras, but donât spot any. At this hour, you figure no oneâs around, just a few hotel staff at the front desk, too tired to think about checking the gym.
âWhy not here? Weâre alone,â you whisper, biting your lip as your eyes meet his.
Phil hums deep in his throat, lips curling into a wicked smile as he presses you more firmly against the wall. His hands slide down to grip your hips, fingers digging in just enough to make his claim without hurting you. "Good answer," he growls, before his mouth crashes into yours again. The kiss is hungry this time, all restraint gone. His tongue slides against yours, demanding and possessive, while his body presses into yours.
You gasp into his mouth as one of his hands slides around to grip your ass, squeezing hard as he pulls you flush against him. You can feel exactly how much he wants you now. his erection pressing against your stomach, causing your breath to hitch in your throat.
He pulls back just slightly, breathing heavily, his green eyes dark with lust as he looks at you. His hands stay where they are, one gripping your hip and the other firmly on your ass, holding you against the wall.
"Fuck, you're perfect," he growls, voice thick with need. His lips find yours again, kissing you deeply and passionately, his tongue exploring your mouth with urgent hunger. You whimper against him, overwhelmed by the intensity of his touch and the emotions that have been building between you both. He breaks the kiss, trailing his lips along your jaw and down your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. You slide your hand up under his hoodie, feeling the warmth of his bare chest beneath your fingers, tracing over the ridges of his chiseled muscles.
Phil lets out a low groan against the crook of your neck as your hand travels across his chest. His fingers curl around the hem of your gym shorts, before slowly tugging them down your thighs.
Your shorts pool around your ankles, and Phil's hand immediately finds its way between your thighs. His fingers brush over the damp fabric of your panties, and you gasp as they press against your swollen flesh. "Fuck," he growls, nipping at your lower lip. "You're so wet for me already."
 His fingers tease along the edge of your panties, tracing the outline of your pussy before finally pushing the fabric aside. A thick finger slides between your folds, circling your clit with just the right amount of pressure to make you whimper. "Look at you," he murmurs, watching your face as he teases you. "So responsive." you bite your lip to stifle a moan, reaching between you to palm him through his gym shorts.
He groans deeply, pressing his hips forward into your touch. His finger slides down further, teasing your entrance before slowly pushing inside you. You clench around him, arching your back as he curls his finger, hitting a spot that makes your vision blur. "That's it," he growls, nipping at your neck as he adds a second finger, stretching you deliciously. Your hand moves up and down his length, feeling it pulse and swell beneath the fabric of his shorts.
"You're so tight," he groans, fingers moving faster as he watches your face. "I can't wait to be inside you."
"I need you so badly, now," you manage to spit out, letting out a soft moan before tugging on the hem of his gym shorts.Â
"So needy, arenât you?" Phil murmurs, releasing his fingers from inside you before putting them in his mouth and sucking off your juices.
His tongue swipes across his lips afterward, dark eyes locking onto yours as he pushes his shorts down his legs with swift precision. The second they drop to the floor, his cock springs free, long, thick, and already glistening at the tip. You swallow hard, gripping him in your hand, feeling the heat and the weight of him. Phil exhales sharply as your fingers wrap around him, his hips jerking forward instinctively.
"Fuck," he mutters, hands sliding under your ass to lift you effortlessly. Your back presses against the cool wall as he positions himself at your entrance, the thick head of his cock nudging against you.
His gaze locks onto yours, dark with lust, his breathing ragged as he waits for your approval. You nod, immediately, and he pushes inside in one smooth, slow thrust. A sharp gasp tears from your throat as he fills you completely, stretching you perfectly. Phil groans deeply, forehead dropping to rest against your shoulder as he stills for a moment, giving you time to adjust. "You feel incredible," he growls, voice rough with need as he lifts his head to look at you again. His hands grip your ass tighter, fingers digging in as he starts to move, pulling almost all the way out before thrusting back in with more force.
âOh god, P-Punk,â you manage to whimper, your voice trembling, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes from the sudden pleasure.
Phil lets out a satisfied groan at the sound of his name from your lips, picking up his pace as he thrusts into you. His cock feels huge inside you, stretching you to the point of delicious discomfort, his thick length dragging over your most sensitive spots in just the right way with every movement. "Look at you," he murmurs, watching where you're joined, his grip on your ass tightening as he adjusts his angle. "Taking me so fucking well." His words send a tremor through your body, his deep voice rough with desire.
The gym feels like it's spinning around you, the cold wall against your back doing nothing to soothe the fire consuming you. Phil's thrusts grow deeper, harder, each one pushing you up the wall slightly before gravity pulls you back down onto his cock. His breathing is ragged against your ear, his hips snapping forward with controlled precision, his powerful body holding you effortlessly as he claims you. "Fuck, you're so tight around me," he growls, teeth grazing your neck. "I knew you'd feel perfect."
You arch your back, pressing your chest against his as your nails dig into his shoulders.
The gym echoes with the rhythmic slapping of skin against skin, your moans and Phil's labored breathing. His hands move to grip your hips, fingers digging into your soft flesh as he starts to pound into you with more force, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge.
"Fuck, you're gonna make me come," he groans, his hips snapping forward, his thick cock stretching you as it drags over your sensitive spots.Â
"c-cum in me, I-Iâm on the pill," you manage to whimper out, eyes dark with lust as he watches your face. Phil groans deeply at your words, his thrusts growing even more urgent as he picks up the pace. His grip on your hips tightens as he slams into you harder and deeper.
"You feel so good," he growls, voice strained with need. "Gonna fill you up just like you want." Your body tenses as pleasure coils tighter inside you, his thick cock hitting that perfect spot inside you over and over again.
"Oh god," you whimper, eyes rolling back as his thick length is filling you to the brim with every powerful thrust. Your walls clench around him, muscles tensing as pleasure coils tighter and tighter. Phil groans at the tightness, his grip on your hips turning almost painful as he fucks you harder, faster.
"That's it," he growls, lips brushing against your ear. "Let go for me." His words tip you over the edge, your body tensing before you shatter around him, your walls clamping down on his cock as pleasure surges through you.
"Fuck!" Phil roars, his movements faltering as your walls pulse around him. He drives into you a few more times before burying himself to the hilt, coming hard with a guttural groan. He stays inside you, breathing heavily as he comes down from his high, forehead resting against yours. Your arms wrap around him, pulling him closer as you both pant, chests heaving. After a moment, he pulls out slowly, the absence of him leaving you feeling suddenly empty. He sets you back on your feet, steadying you as you wobble slightly, legs weak from the intensity of your orgasm.
Phil wraps his arms around you, holding you close as both of you catch your breath. The quiet of the gym makes every small sound, the racing of your hearts, the soft exhale of relief, feel amplified.
You lean into him, forehead against his, feeling the warmth and steady presence of him next to you. His hands rest gently on your waist, thumb brushing soothing circles as he murmurs softly, âYou okay?â
You nod, letting out a shaky laugh. âYeah⌠just, wow.â
He chuckles, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. âYeah⌠me too.â
After a few more moments wrapped in each otherâs arms, you finally step back, smiling softly as you catch your breath. Phil gives you a playful, satisfied grin, one hand still lingering on your waist.
The tension of the night, the nerves, the restlessness, it all melts away. For the first time in what feels like forever, you know youâll finally sleep well.
You glance at him, a soft laugh escaping you. âYeah⌠I think tonight was worth being up this late.â
He smirks, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face. âDefinitely worth it.â
