thinking about that one night with your heartbroken ex!boyfriend…
warnings/inclusions: heavy smut, mentions of poor body image, stomach/body worship, unequal power dynamics
how, despite his intuition screaming at him to turn around, he still drove over to your house when you called.
how his hands shook the entire way there, silence filling his car to the brim as he wrestled with himself. no spotify playlist, no podcast— not even the old voice memos you left him that he usually replayed. just pure, uninterrupted silence.
you hadn’t talked to him in months. hadn’t returned his calls, read his texts, or even listened to his voicemails. as far as he knew, but could never accept, you had moved on far and fast without a chance to look back.
but now, after so long, you pulled him by the tight leash you kept him on once again. you had him by the ear— called him back like the stray dog only you could turn him into, just like he hoped you would. just like he knew you would, because ultimately, nobody could fuck you like him.
at first you tried to deny it— tried to deny that power he had over your body. the way every crook and curve seemed to melt perfectly into yours. he was just a man. nothing more than a pair of pretty eyes and some nice, sweet attention. that’s it, that’s all.
but each time another man would warm your bed, you were forced to face the fact that that just wasn’t true.
you’d find yourself reminiscing about the way he’d rut into you at just the right angle, dick pushing against every sweet spot imaginable. how he’d place sweet kisses against your temple as he took you from behind. how he’d whisper how much he loved you against your ear as he pushed in deeper— all examples of how he was made for you. how he naturally did all the things you needed him too.
compared to your ex, no other guy could compete. no matter how much you hyped yourself up to be in the moment, tried to get them to touch or fuck you— it was never enough. you always found yourself craving what you knew, nearly fiendish for his gentle touch and his sweet praise.
this night was only different because you had the guts to give in.
he hadn’t even been through the door for five minutes before you were up against him. conversation had always been needless to you, but as you pulled and prodded at his clothes, he was coming to realize how much he needed it.
your voice was the sweetest melody, sifting through his head in quiet moments like taunts of better days. after being deprived of it for so long he found himself hoping for any of it. anything. small quips about how he was doing or what he’d been up to, short little insights into what you were doing yourself— hell, anything other than the meager greeting you gave him at the door.
all you seemed to care about was pulling his belt loose, though.
he didn’t realize that he wasn’t breathing correctly until he was inside of you.
the feeling reverberated throughout his body in nearly euphoric tingles, pulling him deeper into your warmth, much to his content. shallow, nearly anxious pants turned into deep sighs of relief in an instant.
he wasn’t the only one to feel that relief either, that he could tell.
your head flung back in an instant and though he held them like a vice at his waist, your thighs still shook a bit at the pressure. he loved seeing you like this— ripping apart at the seams you so neatly threaded together.
“fuck,” you whined out, voice pitching in that way only he was familiar with.
he took a few seconds before he moved again, careful not to overwhelm you with his size. though he was only a good five or six inches altogether, he always managed to curve just against your sweet spot— something he used to his advantage.
once he was sure that you’d adjusted to the feeling, he pulled himself back a few inches before plummeting in once again, setting a moderate pace with his hips. he always started like this— wanting to spend a good amount of time working you up before things picked up anymore.
almost like an instinct, his head dipped down to catch one of your nipples into his mouth, tongue rounding the mound in soft, round circles. he sucked at them for a few seconds before pulling away to kiss at the skin surrounding it, desperate to savor the shape and taste of you.
“these are still as pretty as i remember,” he lamented, pulling a soft whimper from you at his praise.
his hand lowered towards your stomach next, moving your arms from the valley in which they found purchase. he always found it so enthralling, watching the way your soft skin would bounce slightly in response to his thrusts.
“here too,” he smiled up at you, rubbing his hand over it.
he knew how self conscious you’d been about your stomach in the past. how you hated the way that, despite countless hours in the gym, the little pudge never seemed to go away. he remembered how you’d try your best to cover it up as he took you, diverting his hands from the area whenever he’d take grip there. how you’d nearly look embarrassed when he’d ghost his kisses past it.
if only you knew how fucking beautiful he found your little love handles. how he fantasized about the view of you under him, just like this, time and time again once you’d split. how he adored the extra cushion you carried there.
his hands snaked to your back after awhile, pulling your waist into his arms as he began to increase his speed a bit. this new position, with your legs wrapped around his hips and his face buried in your neck, all but overtook you. it felt almost as if, with each thrust, he was molding himself deeper into you, leaving his print behind each time he’d pull away.
where with anyone else, your mind would’ve been far away, you had no choice but to feel and take all of what he was giving you. every sensation, thrust, moan— it all coursed through your body like air, pulling the most guttural moans from your lips.
“i’ve missed all of this so fucking much,” he whispered into your ear, words broken by his own sharp movements.
all you could muster was a cry at that, head falling back as he seemed to increase his pace again.
“you try to act like you don’t,” he continued, moving his head to plant hard, rough kisses against your neck, “like what we had meant nothing.”
his voice was gruff and chiding, similar to that of a parent scolding a child. though there were remnants of it before, you could practically feel his frustration with you now.
your entire body was hot under his touch, sensitive to every little thing now. he wasn’t being the gentle, sweet boy he normally was with you, no. this man was one filled with hurt and anger— all of which you were responsible for. that you knew.
“but i know you, sweet girl,” he continued, moving his hand down to press against your stomach, “i know that despite everything you’ve put me through— all that shit you said…”
his movements began to slow as he continued, his grip on your body loosening just the slightest bit as he pulled back.
“i know that you still love me.”
his eyes bore holes through yours, intimidating every lie you could’ve possibly told from your mind. where in any other situation, you might’ve had the mind to look away— to push him back and demand he leave— you just couldn’t. not when he was so close, and he was holding you the way he was, and he was telling the truth you were far too afraid to tell.
though you didn’t say much, he could see the truth plastered across your face. it was evident in the way sucked you bottom lip between your teeth, just as you did when he would catch you in a lie. it was in the way your eyes watered as he began to fuck into you once again. it in the way that this time, you held onto him with a grip much tighter than before, and you melted into him completely.
“i just need you to say it to me, baby,” he whispered once more, almost like he was telling a secret only the two of you could know.
“i need you to tell me i’m not wrong.”
the weight of his hands against your stomach felt blissfully heavy as you neared your finish, whines and moans pouring from you like adlibs to the most lustful music. you could sense how close he was too, evident in his heavy breathing and nearly uncontrollable pleas.
mixes of “come on’s” and “i just need to hear it’s” filled your ear like a symphony, bringing you closer and closer to release the way he knew it would. you always loved to hear him beg.
with one final snap of his hips, you felt the fog close around your mind and the bliss over take your body. against your defenses, you let the words fall from your mouth like a chant.
“i still fucking love you.”
it’s almost as if you’d flipped a switch, pulling every last drop of resolve from his body. his orgasm crashed into him like a tidal wave, rendering him speechless except for the moans he released.
you watched in awe as his face contorted into one of pure, sweet euphoria. all of his stress and tenseness melted away, now replaced by the soft shakes and jolts coursing through his body at the feeling.
you pulled him down into you, allowing his body to splay over yours as the remaining sensations of your climaxes passed. he was silent for the most part, his breathing evening out eventually as you held him.
you weren’t sure who said it, him or you, but nonetheless, you were glad to hear it.
introducing a new boy to the roster. i’ve got such a soft spot for this baby. let me know what y’all thought about him!
wanna send an ask? check this out!
