GLISTENING UNDER THE STARS.
CW: Breaking up, mutually(?) wanted breaking up, sex for the last time, softdom!chris, romantic sex?, smut, p in v, unprotected sex (pleaseeee dont do this), crying during sex but we all know why 🫤, oral f!recieving, not much dirty talk, not really meant to make you horny but if it works ig it works!!
SUMMARY: You and Chris dont workout as good as you’d hoped for, and thats okay. But, just one last goodbye kiss, one for the road.
A/N: Drowning in a bath of my own tears
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"Can- could we spend, y’know.. one last night together?"
His unrelenting gaze laid upon you, it held the same similarity as a cold hand had rested on your shoulder, the frigid temperature seeping through the cotton of your shirt. The palm rubbing into your shoulder, in a comforting, assuring rub, as if to remind you, ‘you’re okay.’ Even when everything wasn’t okay. Like the world had come crashing, burning down before your very own eyes, the cause your very own hands - maybe even tongue in this situation.
What were you to do in this moment? The pure look in his eyes was enough to make you sick with guilt. How were you expected to speak, when the ball in your throat began to shape into a fist? The sick with you-don't-know-what being your most prime feeling, as if it was tearing your body apart, slitting it in half and moving to wriggle inside, replacing the blood coursing through your veins with that feeling. Changing the thrum of your heartbeat against your ribs to constantly remind you of the illness you felt. Each pump a sick, cruel manner as to give that dreaded reminder above your head, that this was all entirely your fault. Everything you felt was of your doing. What did you do?
The fist in your throat began relaxing, instead now clawing its way up your throat, reaching to the base of your tongue, where a sob slipped through. Why were you crying? You’re the one who’d suggested it, told him straight to his face.
“Chris, this isnt working out.” No sympathy lingering in the undertones of your voice, not even a spared, merciful glance towards his now shattered demeanor before speaking again,
“And I know you think the same Chris. Its so painfully obvious, you’re constantly out with your friends, never at home with me. You almost never speak to me enthusiastically,” you trailed off. Your sentence finishing off with a sigh, your head tilted upwards to meet his gaze. What you saw was no less than what you’d expected, but what you hadn't looked past, was the fact Chris had redeemed himself almost everytime after one of your listed incovencies, after hanging out with his friends all day, he’d always have brought you more than one gift back, and spent the night with you for as long as you wanted (or needed).
But, because the boy was so helplessly inlove with you, he’d agreed. Wanting you the best, completely leaving his own feelings in the trail of your footsteps. He’d told you he wasn't doing well in the relationship either, that he couldn't find contentment - or whatever bullshit excuse he could think of. But, what he didn't say, was how sick he felt whenever he thought of you anytime, his body full to the brim with love, and the butterflies flapping inside his stomach. He’d be happy, as long as you were happy. Whatever it takes, he’d told himself.
You felt his eyes heavy upon you, his lips twitching in a beg to twist his words together, ask for a simple favor, or, task in your hands.
“Can- could we spend, y’know.. one last night together?” He whispered, his voice only a crack away from collapsing entirely ontop of himself. His tears only relying to stay put on the dam he’d built inside his mind, his voice keeping what it could, together.
Your heart dulled in acceptance, the sick feeling running throughout your veins falling to a stop. If it’d help him relax throughout his unspoken words, then so be it.
You nodded, making no effort to form your lips to speak, instead you only stood from the bed, now holding all of your previous guilt. Your hand traveled to his body, running it gently along his chest to the nape of his neck, where you gently wrapped your fingers to twist the waved, shorter hair. Your eyes holding significant love inside them, Chris ignored it. You didnt love him.
His hands begin their journey to the rightful place on your body, wrapping his own palms on your waist, gently. His hands holding a silent, subtle passion behind them, like hands that have longed for their lover, they’ve waited for forever to rest upon this one person. You basked in it, enjoying it for the last time you probably ever would. Whose to tell the future?
You gently pulled his face closer to yours, interlocking your lips in a quiet, loving kiss. No movement being made, or even an effort to be made, just a simple, slow, loving kiss. All you’d need for now, there was no reason to bring it any further, to rush this already treasuring moment, what better than to just, slow down and let it go as it goes?
Your lips were the first to make a move, finally kissing with more passion, it felt right. It felt as if the moment had desired this, this was the way it was meant to go. Your hand gently squeezed as your lips grew along his with more passion, his tongue sliding inside the enclosure of your mouth.
His own hands slid further down your body, his fingertips tracing across till they found the desired plush of your ass. While his other hand held a hold on your lower back, pulling you closer into his embrace, closer to him.
With a slow begin, Chris guided your body to the bed behind you, the hand on your back serving as a quiet reminder that he’d catch you if you’d fallen. Your back met with the soft plush of your comforter, your back painfully easing, causing a soft moan to slip, which only served to intensify Chris’ desire, but he showed no movement to act on it.
Sliding his hand from underneath you, his hand rested on the cotton plush beside your head, while his other went to your hip, digging the tip of his finger through the fabric just enough to feel his caress teasing as it went further, and further down. Eventually falling to a stop once it’d connected to your inner thigh, mere inches away from your heat.
A soft, palpable whine of need escaped your throat, you reached down to grab his wrist, urge him to get closer, to fulfill your desires without a word spoken, but he stopped you. Shaking his head softly as he leant up to connect your lips in a soft kiss, his hands attached to the waistband of your pants, slowly pulling them down in an act to expand the moment, let it linger longer.
His fingers hooked under the waistband of your panties as well, bringing them along with your pants as he tugged them down, closer to fully off with each sound of your lips in the otherwise quiet atmosphere.
Eventually tugging them down your ankles, he de-attached almost immediately, the eagerness underlying his now quicker movements to move between your legs, his hands now moving to your inner thighs again, where he’d spread them wider. His eyes glued to your sex, watching as your wetness dripped to the blanket below you. His tongue licked over his teeth, his fingertips digging into the plush of your thighs.
“Y’look so pretty,” all f’me he murmured, swallowing down the words he wanted to say, all laced with possessiveness. With the guilt he felt pooling inside his stomach, he leaned forward, attaching his mouth to your clit at his own attempt at distracting himself from the overwhelming thought of you no longer being his.
A moan slid from the capture of your throat, already in a prep for bliss. God, you were gonna miss this, miss him- him and his, tongue..? That's what you wanted to tell yourself.
His grasped hands around your thighs squeezed tighter, already finding himself entranced within your heat. His tongue swirling around the bundle of nerves, sucking before sticking his tongue out to trail down to your opening, sliding his tongue into the hole, and back out, creating a rhythmic pace.
His tongue kept up with the pace, his eyes peering into yours as he watched you slowly begin to become out of it, your moans falling even smoother from your lips than before. Not a thought behind your eyes, only the way you felt. His tongue curled into what your face contorted into when he brought you pleasure, yet he’d rather have your body curled into his as he brought you the warmth he seeked. Pleasuring your body with the simple affection of a kiss to your cheek.
Your hips bucked into his face, nudging his nose to your clit in the process, spiking pleasure throughout your veins, the ache for more surging blended within. Your stomach seeped till it fell through an endless pit, either mixing with the underlying guilt, or the start of an orgasm. You weren’t sure.
His hands gripped around your thighs, kneading the flesh beneath his fingers and palms. His tongue moving in desperate acts of more, more, more and more. Perchance more of the unrequited love he wanted to be requited, but that wasn't fitting.
His tongue departed as his hand slid from your thigh, his thumb tracing tight circles on your clit as his ring and index finger slid inside your entrance, quickening his previous pace, sliding deeper against your soft walls, the pleasure ricocheting onto you.
His lips meshed with yours, your lingering taste slipping inside your mouth and dawning onto your taste buds. Yet the pleasure from your legs was bundling your head far too much to care for the luscious taste coating your mouth.
The previous knot — or, ‘endless pit’ fell snapped, a moan sliding off your tongue and whispered into Chris’ mouth, swallowing what was left of the efforted moan, yet it only bounced off the walls of only being needed of one thing.
His fingers retracted from your legs and moved to the buckle of his belt, retrieving it from its locked position, and sliding his throbbing dick from the tight enclosure of fabric. He continued the motions of pulling off his pants and boxers, his movements yearning, yet a coat of desperation blinded longing, leaving the yearning to be of what it was, yet tiny and unnoticable.
His lips never disattached from yours, even when he slid his length inside your entrance, but a striking, pleasurable pain overtook his lip once your teeth had bitten onto it at an attempt to soothe yourself, probably stabilization but all Chris could focus on was the squeeze of your walls bringing the pleasure he so badly seeked earlier. His cock almost begging with the leaking pre-cum.
With one last kiss, bathing in the warmth of your lips, he’d pulled away. His hands grabbing at your hips, groping at the flesh of your stomach, caressing the skin of your ribs as well as the skin below your boobs. His fingertips dancing along the skin left for his eyes, left for the moon to shine onto, casting an ethereal spell on your skin to reflect, let Chris deliver the satisfaction of being inevitably perfect.
His hips moved along with the rhythm of your moans, moving deeper whilst your moans grew louder and harder as your moans strained in the journey of your scratchy, used throat. Your eyes bathing in the tears of your pleasure. The sway of his hips meeting with yours urging the tears to produce, lay this last drop of mercy.
Despite the ache of how hard & deep he went, his movements were soft, cherishing in the bath of your body kneeling to his actions, taking in what it could get and giving back the pleasure he proclaimed. He wanted to soak in the soft hum of the tiny whimpers that failed to succeed from slipping your throat, he wanted to dry your tears with his lips - even if they weren’t from mental or physical pain. He wanted to be able to let the praises slide from his lips as easily as they used to, let each word bathe inside a pool of his possessiveness, reminding your conscious of just whom you’d ‘belonged’ to.
He wanted this one last given opportunity to be by your side, linger in the warmth of your being and skin to be memorable, not any other time you’d have sex, just, lacking the speech.
Your hand slithered to his bicep, squeezing hard, digging a crescent moon shape of your nails into his skin, your eyes closing as the returning feeling of an endless pit formed into your stomach. Perchance this time it wasn’t because of your orgasm. You could see the glint in Chris’ eyes, neither irises carrying a wash of lust inside them, rather, only a form of yearn and— longing. He longed and longed, for what you didn't know.
He was touching you, staring at you, embracing you, inside you for fucks sakes. What more did the man want? What more could a man ask for? Your body laid vulnerable in front of him, your flaws for his eyes, your insecurities lie for his hands to caress, yet he had done neither. Not a whisper of a praise sliding from his pretty pink lips.
Your hand slid to the nape of his neck, running your fingertips up his head, gripping at the loose curls, you pulled his face closer to yours, your lips a breath away from his.
You opened your eyes, meeting his in a long, tension full eye contact. Your face churned in pleasure when he thrusted especially hard in that moment, his cock slamming inside you, as his gaze didn't falter. A cocky smirk laid over his features, clearly enjoying the sight of you, the sounds you were making. His tongue darted out to lick his lips, his gaze unrelenting, his lips moved to form the letters he was yet to pronounce.
His previous yearn drowned in his now lust filled irises, a grunt slipping past his lips before he muttered possessively, “C’mon pretty, be a little louder for me baby. Wanna hear your moans and whimpers.” His thrusts slowed with each word his spoke, a seemingly threat.
“Fuck Chris, please don’t slow down, faster, please.” You’d begged, your knees curling into your chest as the feel of his cock drove into your insides, ridding any of the guilt that remained.
Low and behold, the mustered strength provided to your lustful needs was rooted from the tightening in his throat and burning eyes. Each thrust was a way to take his mind off of what was to come after this, each syllable said was a beg of the peace he desired for such an intimate moment. He wanted, he so badly wanted to want to fuck into you, whisper his possesive lacen words into your neck, his re occuring hands keeping your under him as you pleaded for him. Yet, he just couldn't.
Instead, your body lie before him, the window allowing the moon to assure you as the most beautiful thing he’d ever lain his eyes on, sweat dripping down the creases of your body, a mesmerized expression etched on your face, you glistening under the stars as a guiltiful apology sat on the shine coating your body from the moon. Reflected onto your body as it slightly shook with the forces of his thrusts. Each sparkle dancing on your skin a haunting taunt for the body he no longer could love and adore. Only to watch as memories and need for more relentlessly took over his mind.
2578 words.
TAGS
@luverboychris @chrissturniolosfavoritesexdoll @meg-sturniolo @junnniiieee07 @ssilentzom @b2cute @graysturns @wh0resstuff @sturn-bugz @sunsetsturniolos @strniolo @sturnssmuts @simply-a-simper @stunza @meerkatzthings @joemamaaa42069 @sturniluvr @cindylcuwho @wurlibydominicfike @watercolorskyy @aaliyahsturniolo1 @alyrasturnz @colorthecosmos444 @sturnobsessedwh0re @jetaimevous @nicksgirlfriend @4kv4mp @asherrisrandom
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@starsturni @britishamerican11 @mattspinkshirt
@chrissturniolosworld @ariqolyx
@mels22lunchbox
@elas3
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usage of his backseat
everyone else seems to be hooking up so why can’t you?
series masterlist
contains: 18+ smut! (fingering, unprotected piv, teasing. i think that’s all idk.)
word count: 3.1k
MINORS DONT INTERACT!
music was beaming, was too loud for you. the air felt sweaty and gross. you had a drink in hand, sipping it slowly. you weren’t too fond of parties, but your friend convinced you to come.
you were sat at a table with a bunch of people you didn’t really know. you overheard some conversation of them being in a band but that didn’t really phase you. you were sat next a bald man. he had introduced himself to you as alex. but that was the only conversation you had with him.
you waited for your friend to finish making out with some man she met. honestly, you didn’t want to be there at all. you weren’t the partying kind of person.
you got up from alex’s side and decided to wander around the house. it was quite crowded and you saw many people kissing and doing who knows what, but you didn't care. you just didn't want to waste time at the party. suddenly, some guy you had never met before bumped into you, making you spill the drink you had in your hand.
the drink splattered over your shirt, and you could feel the wetness on your skin. you looked up at the man, ready to confront him. you muttered something to yourself instead, walking back to the table in annoyance.
as you walked back to the table, you could feel the irritation building up inside you. the sound of the loud music and chatter around you seemed amplified, making your already agitated state even worse. you tried to maintain your composure, but deep down, you cursed your friend for dragging you to this party.
as you approached the table, alex stared at you in confusion. “what’s happened to you?” he asked, fighting back a laugh.
you muttered under your breath, clearly annoyed. "i got bumped into by some twat who made me spill my drink all over my shirt." you grabbed a napkin, trying to wipe away the wetness, though it wasn't doing much help.
"looks like you should ditch the shirt," alex joked. he was obviously trying to lighten the mood but it wasn't working.
you rolled your eyes. "it's not like i can walk around shirtless, genius."
alex chuckled. "i'm sure you wouldn't hear any complaints." he wiggled his eyebrows, teasing you.
you felt a mix of embarrassment and amusement. "you're insufferable, you know that?" you said, unable to help but smile at his ridiculous antics.
the smile didn't go unnoticed by alex, who looked delighted that he had managed to put a grin on your face. "i'll take that as a compliment, love." he replied with a wink. you shook your head, still grinning despite yourself.
alex leaned in closer, his tone more serious now. "in all seriousness, though, you're right. you can't walk around like that. come with me, i'll give you a clean shirt." he stood up and gestured for you to follow. “i might have a spare shirt or summat in my car.”
you felt a mix of gratitude and curiosity. you followed alex, unsure of what to expect but curious nonetheless.
the night air was cool as you followed alex outside to his car. he rummaged through the backseat, eventually pulling out a slightly crumpled black t-shirt. he handed it to you, a playful grin on his face.
"thanks," you said, taking the shirt from him. the t-shirt felt oddly soft against your skin as you put it on, the fabric caressing your body in a way that was both comfortable and pleasant. despite your initial irritation earlier, you couldn't help but feel grateful for alex's help.
as you adjusted the shirt, you couldn't help but notice alex's gaze fixed on you. you looked back at him with a raised eyebrow. "what, is my outfit not up to your standards?" you asked, jokingly.
alex chuckled, stepping closer to you. "on the contrary," he said, his tone slightly lower. "you look quite appealing right now, i must say."
you felt a blush creeping up your neck, but you quickly brushed it off with a laugh. "flattery won't get you anywhere, baldy." you retorted playfully, trying to lighten the mood.
alex grinned, unfazed. "i'm not trying to get anywhere, love. just stating the truth." he took another step closer, his eyes never leaving yours.
there was an undeniable attraction between you two, but you resisted, not wanting to admit it to yourself. "you're full of yourself, you know that?" you replied, attempting to sound unaffected, but underneath, you couldn't deny that his proximity was affecting you.
"you don't seem to mind that much," alex teased, his voice tinged with amusement. he reached out and gently brushed a stray strand of hair from your face before grabbing a cigarette from the pack in his pocket.
you couldn't deny that his touch sent a pleasant shiver down your spine. you tried to compose yourself, not wanting to reveal your inner turmoil. "flirt with everyone like this, do you?"
alex smirked, lighting the cigarette before taking a slow drag and exhaling a cloud of smoke. it was as if he took pleasure in watching you squirm beneath his gaze.
"not everyone," he replied cryptically, his eyes never leaving you. the smoke from his cigarette swirled around the two of you, the smell a mix of desire and allure. you found yourself unable to break eye contact, as if mesmerized by the energy radiating from him.
you felt your heart beat a little faster as alex's cigarette smoke swirled around you. the scent of tobacco mixed with whatever cologne he wore enveloped your senses, creating an intoxicating blend that only seemed to heighten the tension between you two.
without thinking, you stepped closer to him, drawn by an irresistible force. you met his gaze with a mixture of defiance and desire.
alex's lips curved into a pleased smile, as if he had been waiting for you to make the first move. with a slow and deliberate motion, he leaned in, his lips hovering mere millimeters from yours. the cigarette smoke mingled with your breath, creating a lingering taste of temptation. he finished his cigarette, dropping it on the floor and stomping on it. then he looked back up at you.
and there, in that moment, the space between your faces seemed to shrink to an almost unbearable intensity. it was as if the world around you faded away, and all that remained was this delicate dance of desire and anticipation.
with the slightest of movements, alex closed the gap, his lips lightly brushing against yours in a tantalizing kiss. the taste and feel of his breath mingling with yours sent a wave of electricity coursing through you, making you crave for more.
you responded to the kiss, unable to resist the magnetic pull of the moment. you allowed yourself to be swept away by the sensations, losing yourself in the passionate embrace.
as the kiss deepened, you felt alex's hand gently glide down your back, pulling you closer to him. the touch was both tender and possessive, and you willingly surrendered to the desire that was building within you. the sound of your beating hearts blended with the muffled music in the background, creating a symphony of shared longing.
the kiss continued, growing more passionate with each passing second. alex's tongue danced with yours, exploring and teasing in a way that made your head spin. you wrapped your arms around his neck, wanting to feel every inch of him against you. the world around you didn't matter anymore—all that mattered was the heat between your bodies and the intoxicating taste of alex's lips.
alex guided you towards the open car door. his lips traced a path from your mouth to your neck, leaving a trail of longing and anticipation with each touch. the cool night air mingled with the heat of your desire, creating a perfect balance of sensations.
with tender firmness, alex eased you down onto the back seat of his car, the leather seat softly molding to your body. he moved atop you, his face only inches away from yours, a mix of longing and mischief in his eyes.
as alex continued to kiss you, his hands began to explore your body with a newfound intensity. they roamed from your neck to your shoulders, then further down, tracing a path along your curves. it was as if his touch ignited a fire within you, and you responded eagerly, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him closer still.
the passion intensified, and you both knew that there was no turning back now. the boundaries between you had vanished, replaced by a primal hunger that consumed everything else around you.
alex's hands began to explore beneath your shirt, tracing patterns that sent shivers down your spine. he took his time discovering every inch of your exposed skin as if committing each curve and contour to memory. the sensation of his touch against your skin was both electrifying and comforting, a mix of sensations that made you crave for more of his attention.
you gasped as alex's hand moved to unhook your bra, the anticipation building within you. he looked into your eyes, his gaze heavy with desire, seeking permission for what was to come next. you couldn't find the words to respond, but your body answered for you as you pressed your lips against his in a frantic kiss, urging him to continue.
alex obliged, his hands becoming more confident as he removed your shirt and bra, leaving you exposed to his gaze. his eyes flickered over your naked torso, and you could feel his reverence and desire in every moment he took to appreciate your body.
alex's lips once again returned to your neck, planting a trail of kisses that made you arch into him. he whispered words of praise and adoration, his voice a mix of reverence and longing. "you are beautiful," he murmured as his lips moved lower, tracing a path down your chest and over your breasts.
you let out a soft moan, unable to hold back the rush of emotions coursing through you. alex's touch was both tender and urgent, a combination that left you both craving and satisfied at the same time. as you arched into him, each kiss intensified the building tension between you.
alex's lips left a trail of kisses down your stomach, slowly moving lower. the anticipation of what was to come had you reeling with desire. his hands moved down, unfastening your pants with practiced ease. as they inched lower, the air around you seemed to crackle with electricity.
you lifted your hips, allowing alex to slide your pants off, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. he paused for a moment, his eyes raking over your exposed body, taking in every inch. you could sense the hunger and need in his gaze, fueling his actions.
alex's fingertips traced the edge of your underwear, teasingly trailing around the elastic band, before finally slipping under it. “oh my.” you whimpered.
his touch was like a tantalizing dance, igniting a fire within you that only intensified as he moved further downwards.
the sensation of his exploring fingers was both pleasurable and excruciatingly slow. you could feel alex's breath against your heated skin, and you longed for more. you arched towards him, trying to quicken his rhythm, wanting nothing more than for him to relieve the ache that was growing inside you.
alex's fingers continued their path downward, finally reaching the one place that craved his attention the most. he circled the sensitive spot with careful and deliberate precision, sending a wave of pleasure through your body and causing your breath to hitch.
you felt yourself getting closer to the edge, unable to contain the pleasure that was building within you. as alex's fingers continued to expertly explore your most intimate area, you couldn't help but let out a series of small, urgent moans, pleading for more.
his movements were relentless, each touch sending shocks of pleasure coursing through your body. your hands grasped at his shoulders, trying to anchor yourself as the sensations overwhelmed you. you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the point of no return.
finally, as alex's touch sent you over the edge, you cried out his name, your orgasm shaking you to your core. you clung to him, riding the waves of pleasure that washed over you. slowly, you came back down to earth, your breathing steadying and your body relaxing into the afterglow.
alex stayed close to you, holding you in his arms and pressing gentle kisses along your neck as you trembled. he ran his fingers through your hair, soothing you and offering comfort in the aftermath of the intense moment you had shared.
as your breathing returned to normal, you looked at alex and noticed his own longing desire hadn't been fulfilled. you could feel his need radiating off of him, a powerful undertone to the gentle comfort he was providing.
you reached out to him, your touch a silent plea for more. you wanted to give him the same pleasure he had given you, to return the favor and share in the intimacy that had taken hold between you. he looked at you, his eyes meeting yours with mutual understanding and longing.
you leaned in, meeting his lips in a tender kiss, and began to explore his body with your hands, mimicking the touches he had given you earlier. you could feel his desire for you, and it only intensified your own hunger. you moved your hand lower, teasing the waistband of his pants.
alex moaned softly, his breath hitching at your touch. he eagerly helped you remove his clothes, exposing his bare torso to your gaze. your fingers traced the contours of his chest, exploring every dip and curve with an unhurried curiosity.
his body was like a playground for your senses, and you couldn't get enough. you ran your fingers down his chest, savoring the way his muscles tensed in anticipation. your touch journeyed lower, reaching the edge of his boxers, and you teased the elastic band with your fingertips.
“tease.”
you chuckled, continuing your action. alex inhaled sharply, his breath coming in short bursts as your fingers continued to toy with the waistband of his boxers. his desire for you was evident in the way his hips arched up to your touch, silently urging you to go further, to bring him the same pleasure he had given you.
your fingers toyed with the band, lingering just long enough to stoke the flames of anticipation within you both. you could feel his body thrumming with excitement, a mirror to your own eager responses. finally, with a gentle tug, you slid his boxers off, exposing his arousal to your gaze.
alex let out a soft gasp at the sudden exposure, his eyes never leaving your face. he looked at you with a mixture of anticipation and desire, his need for you clear in every line of his face. his hands reached out, gently grasping your hips, urging you closer.
you moved closer, positioning yourself on him, sinking down on his length. in that moment, the world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you and the fire that burned between you. you captured his lips in a burning kiss, pouring your passion and desire into the embrace, as your bodies moved and grinded together in a dance of want.
the connection between you was electric, an explosive mix of lust and desire. the heat between your bodies was a tangible thing, and it was intoxicating. you could feel his every movement, his hands exploring your body, as if mapping out a territory he wanted to claim.
the night air carried soft sighs and moans of pleasure as you worked in perfect tandem. time held no meaning in this intimate haven you had created, only the ebb and flow of sensations and passion mattered. each movement, each touch, amplified the growing anticipation, drawing you closer to the pinnacle of pleasure.
alex pulled you closer, increasing the tempo of your movements, his lips finding the sensitive spot on your neck. he murmured words of praise and encouragement, his voice a low growl of pleasure that echoed through you, magnifying your desires. you responded to his words with a symphony of breathy moans, your body moving of its own accord, seeking the elusive release that danced just out of reach.
you could feel the pressure building, a tidal wave of pleasure threatening to crash over you. it was an exquisite tension, the delicious balance between sweet surrender and desperate yearning. alex's body moved beneath yours, his hips meeting each of your movements with a precision that mirrored the hunger in his eyes.
your release came with a crescendo of sensations, a wave of pleasure that washed over you and left you trembling in its wake. alex's name on your lips was a sweet sound, a testament to the profound connection you shared. he soon followed, a low groan escaping his lips as he reached his climax, his body tensing beneath you.
you collapsed onto him, your bodies melding together in a tangle of limbs and shared intimacy. you lay there, catching your breath, the echoes of your pleasure still thrumming through you. the world outside the car windows seemed distant, as if the party and its noise could never penetrate the sanctuary you had found in each other's arms.
as you came down from the high you had achieved together, you and alex lay entwined, the silence between you both filled with contentment and comfort. you shifted slightly, your head resting on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart against your cheek. the sound of the party outside faded away, replaced by the tranquil cadence of shared respiration.
alex wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer in a tender embrace. he placed a gentle kiss on the top of your head, his fingers lightly drawing circles on your back. it was a moment of quiet bliss, a space for two souls to bask in the afterglow.
“i’d like to see you again.” he spoke, the words falling soft from his mouth.
you smiled, lifting your head to look at him. the dim lighting of the car created a soft ambience, making the moment feel all the more intimate.
"i'd like that too." you replied, your voice carrying the certainty of your feelings.
alex's smile widened, and he traced a gentle finger along your jawline, a gesture both tender and possessive. "consider it a date then." he murmured, his husky voice laced with an undertone of desire.
you nodded, your heart fluttering with anticipation. "it's a date," you affirmed, sealing the promise with a soft, lingering kiss.
a/n: as i got to proofreading i actually realised how much i don’t like this but i wanted to post bald al and i’ve been writing then restarting this all day so just have this thanks bye 🙋🏻♀️
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Grease (the tragedy)
“Careful, those marks on the floor aren’t just oil and paint.”
jeon wonwoo x reader
word count: 5.8k
warnings: smut [minors DNI], fluff, angst, mechanic!wonu, annoyances to lovers, blind date gone wrong but then gone right, kissing, clit stuff, oral (f. rec), thigh fucking (oop), this all happens at a desk LMAO, title is a what I thought was a funny spin on how people say "grease (the musical)"....has nothing to do with the musical though but lots to do with actual grease!!!
synopsis: In which you have to sit through one of the worst dates of your life, followed by the insistent tug of fate and compulsion that lead you straight back to where you'd sworn you'd never go.
[a/n]: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY WIFE CAMOTHY @highvern everyone go say happy birthday to cam or ill appear in your room at night 🔫 anygays HAVE FUN READING THIS I hope this is all the sexy wonu content you wanted, I cant wait for your reaction hehehhehe
and also bigbigbigbig thank you to jessifer @the-boy-meets-evil for proofing this for me!!! ily heh
and and to everyone reading this who is not cam, I hope you enjoy reading mechanic!wonu as much as I liked writing him heheh PLS REMEMBER TO REBLOG AND TELL ME UR THOTS it could be in the tags, replies, an ask literally anything!!!! id love to hear what you guys think!!!!
masterlist
[You]: do you think he died on the way
[Liv]: hes still not there???
[You]: what do you think?????
[Liv]: let me ask Amelia
[You]: dont bother
[You]: he can show up whenever he wants im leaving in 5
[Liv]: you promised you’d sit thru this!!
[You]: sit thru what? an empty seat across from me???
Liv doesn’t respond immediately, and you immediately know she’s buggered off to ask her cousin why your date still wasn’t here.
It’s not like you couldn’t have asked him yourself, the sparse textbox sitting just under Liv’s contact. You open it to inspect the contents.
[liv’s cousin’s something]: Amelia gave me your number
[liv’s cousin’s something]: friday night at the sage&salt at 7
[liv’s cousin’s something]: is that okay
[You]: uh hey
[You]: yeah that’s fine
Today 7:20 PM
[You]: im here?
The first thread of texts were enough to make you feel like this was some cold business meeting instead of a date, knowing wherever this would lead would be either the city dump or off a cliff. Liv was hearing none of it, taking the guilt tripping route, saying she’d already committed and her cousin was irritating enough even without a scuffle.
So when Friday evening came around you’d pulled on the first dress your fingers could find, took all of ten minutes fighting with your makeup to make it look like you did something and left the house with zero expectations.
Despite that, as you see a man walk into the establishment dressed like he’d gotten into a fight with a squid and a paper shredder, you feel the stone in your chest tank into the abyss. Zero expectations, and he’s somehow managed to strike out anyway.
The jacket looks like he’s put it on as a weak cover for the grime stains on his shirt and trousers, a couple jet black splatters across the outfit to really pull the whole thing together. It’s not like he looked homeless or anything, his face surprisingly handsome with his hair pushed away from his forehead. Although he remains looking like he’d been playing football in some neighbourhood parking lot before remembering he had an adult appointment too.
You’d never seen the man in your life, but your gut told you this was the shit texter who’d kept you waiting for nearly an hour. He seems to notice too, eyes locking from across the restaurant as the waitress leads him to your table.
“Wonwoo,” you greet with a difficult smile, half sure it came out as a grimace. “Right?”
“Yeah,” he huffs as he practically slams back down on the chair, and you wonder for a moment how the legs didn’t give out. He says your name and you nod. “Sorry I’m late, I got a call in the parking lot.”
He’s been in the parking lot this entire time?!
It’s like you’ve been doused in gasoline and lit on fire, yet somehow needing to give him a shaky reply anyway.
“O–oh, I see.”
The waitress saves you from spitting in his face when she asks if you were ready to order.
Dinner was off the table, as you discussed with Liv who forwarded it to her cousin to her–whoever it was that set up this god awful date–and agreed on dessert and perhaps a drink.
“I’ll have the chocolate cake,” you request in an attempt to make this somewhat better. You consider for a moment before asking for a drink as well, “And a dry gin martini, please.”
“Um,” he staggers as he barely skims the menu, ultimately flipping it closed. “I’ll have the same, I guess.”
Deep voice. You might’ve liked that if you weren’t already so peeved.
The waitress disappears with the menus, leaving you two alone for the first time.
“So,” you start with an exhale. “How do you know Amelia?”
“Her husband.”
“I see.”
Silence.
“How do you know her husband?”
He sighs like this is all inconveniencing him, and it irks you to an irrespective degree. Like you wanted to be here either.
“He brings his car to the workshop alot, became friends somewhere along the line.”
“Workshop?”
He looks a little startled, cocking his head to the side. “I’m a mechanic? Did Olivia–was it–not tell you?”
“No, she didn’t.”
It’s silent yet again as the man across from you refuses to elaborate. You curse as you ask him a follow up question. If there was anything you hated more than shouldering a dead conversation, it was sitting through an awkward silence.
One hour. You’d sit through this for one more hour and then you’d leave.
“What kind of cars do you work on?”
“Expensive ones,” he answers. You might’ve kicked yourself if he’d ended it at that, but he continues with a purse of his lips. “Ones that rich people abuse to an inch of the machine’s life and wonder why the dealership gives up on it. Vintage pieces too.”
“Have I heard of it?”
“The cars?”
“No, I mean,” you let out a breath. “Your workshop.”
“Jeon Motors, just a couple streets down actually.”
You did know what he was talking about, not expecting to recognise it through the empty question, passing by it on multiple occasions in this part of the city.
“Oh, I’ve seen it a few times.”
“Yeah, we’ve been there for a while.”
“Family business?”
“Uh–sort of.”
“Okay,” you sigh in an irritated laugh. This was going to be a very difficult hour. “Keep that to yourself too.”
“Is there a problem?”
Just as you lift your eyes to lock with his, a ready yes, there is actually a problem on your tongue, there’s an intrusion.
“Here are your chocolate cakes,” the waitress places the cakes down, and then the drinks. “And your dry gin martinis. Do you guys need anything else?”
By the time the waitress is gone you’ve somewhat forced yourself to put that sudden surge of flames out, to a degree at least.
“Okay,” he sighs, grabbing his glass and downing nearly half the contents. He emerges, wiping a bit of a spill from the corner of his mouth. “Let’s get this out of the way.”
“Hm?” He’s speaking to you with a very weird surge of intensity, and it confuses you.
“Neither of us wanna be here. You’re clearly trying to be hospitable but I’d really rather you not, especially when we’re both doing this to get our respective ticks off our hides.”
There isn’t much you can do but stare at him.
“Have I misjudged your advances?” he asks over his glass, sharp eyes piercing.
“No!” you yelp, reaching for your drink yourself, taking big sips only to emerge sputtering and heaving.
Your date looks like he’s rising out of his chair when you raise a hand to stop him.
“No,” you repeat, less jumpy this time. “I guess we could’ve cleared that out from before.”
Did he…snort?
“Sorry.” Dropping his chin to his chest, he composes himself.
“What?” you ask, remaining annoyed as ever.
“Nothing.”
That does it. You slam your now empty glass down on the table, slipping your fork out of the napkin a little forcefully, the metal glinting in the light of the restaurant. You dig into a corner of the cake and shove it in your mouth.
If he was gonna be rude, you could be too.
“I don’t know about hospitable.” You swallow. “But I assumed not being an ass was kind of an unwritten rule for any situation really. Including the ones you’d rather not be in.”
Wonwoo stares at you with a blank face, his cake untouched. “I’m being an ass. My laugh couldn’t have offended you that much.”
“So you did pick that up,” you comment. “With the way this conversation’s going I would’ve thought it flew right over your engine.”
“I’d argue your laugh was the least offensive thing you’ve done tonight.” You plunge your fork into your cake again. “But clearly we’re in different realms of etiquette.”
Your eyes meet the rough stains on his attire, and then his own that bore into yours like a challenge. The cake isn’t too sweet, rich just the right amount and texturally sound. Maybe something good did come out of this fiasco.
“Okay fine,” he announces, sitting up straighter. “I apologise.”
“For laughing?”
“And for being obscenely late.”
“And?”
“And…” he genuinely looks like he’s struggling to figure it out, but catches your eyes flickering to his tattered and stained outfit. “And for my entirely inappropriate dressing sense. You’ll have to forgive me for that one, oil and grime are my spoils of war.”
“Wear it like a badge, mister mechanic, but perhaps somewhere it’s appreciated.”
Wonwoo has already finished his drink, his cake remaining untouched. “You’re quite adamant on disliking me.”
“And you’re quite adamant on being a horrid conversationalist.”
The corners of his mouth lift the slightest bit. Opening his mouth to respond, you cut him off. “Cars don’t talk? Or perhaps, machines are easier to understand?”
“More like I don’t care to be personable.”
“That can’t be good for business.”
“The cars speak for themselves.”
He’s a weird one. Even more so when he offers to pay the entire bill, promising you he wasn’t lying when he said he was good at what he does, and to “make up for lost personality points.” You manage to pay your half anyway, considering the circumstances.
“Can you at least let me drive you home?” Wonwoo asks as you both step out of the establishment soon after.
“Depends.” You fix the strap of your bag. “Will it fall apart on the highway?”
The blaring white of the restaurant's outdoor lights backlight Wonwoo to make him look like some sad angel. He turns to you, the same slight smirk that seems to be plastered on his face. “Why don’t you find out?”
“What do you mean sell it? I got this thing a year ago!”
There isn’t much you can do but sigh loudly as you listen to Olivia talk about the state of her car, the one that cost too much to justify but she seemed to use and abuse like a very replaceable toy truck.
Leaning against the hood of the darn thing, you talk to her. “The dealership is giving you a shit deal to take it off your hands, you might as well try your luck.”
The look on her face is easy to read as she silences. Not convinced in the slightest, waiting for the conversation to end just so she could figure it out on her own. Sighing loudly, you look back to the dark beauty with a crate of issues that make it spit and sputter to a stop every few weeks.
“How much did you say the repairs cost again?”
“Enough to put me on food stamps,” she whines through her frustration, tears pricking against her eyes as they glisten under the neighbourhood streetlights. “Why are you smirking like that?!”
“It’s just,” you pause as you consider your next words, pressing your lips together. “This is a little bit your fault.”
Lies, it was entirely her fault.
Liv stares like you’ve just offended her, which you’re sure you have.
“Care to share how this possible bankruptcy could be my fault?"
“Because you drive the thing like you have a secret reserve buried somewhere in Tenerife.”
“My apologies for making a habit of not being a public nuisance and going forty on a national highway.”
“Your speed-o-metre is not the issue here.”
“Yes, of course, everything’s my fault.”
“Liv, please!” You groan loudly. “Just…let’s try putting up a listing tomorrow. Consider the prospects and you can decide from there.”
Sagging her shoulders and stretching her neck, Liv decides to simply trudge back indoors in silence. You take it as a begrudging yes, and follow her inside.
That very night, when you were at the very cusp of falling into the dark space of sleep, your brain re-awakens before your eyes do. A jolt as the memory comes back to you of the many months ago, sitting in that restaurant across from a man who was too handsome for the personality he seemed to sire.
“Expensive ones,” he had said. “Ones that rich people abuse to an inch of the machine’s life and wonder why the dealership gives up on it.”
How fitting.
“Are you going to explain or should I explode instead?”
You’d mentally prepared for the bombardment of accusations from Liv, her questioning perfectly right as you yourself cringed at the thought of showing your face here of all places. The one last one that’d officially banned her from ever setting you up with an individual of her choosing ever again.
Hearing only silence as her answer, she appeals; “I thought he was the worst date of your life.”
“Nothing to do with his skills as a mechanic,” you mumble, refusing to make eye contact.
“And everything to do with this being a horrible idea anyway!” Liv stares up at the sign on top of the garage. Jeon Motors. “What makes you think this guy can fix my car?”
What did make you think he could fix Liv’s car? If you’d known you might have given her an answer, but as you stare at the giant signboard that you’ve driven past for longer than you can remember, you can’t help but feel this place has been haunting you. Just a little.
You can’t help but feel the tingle of goosebumps rise on your skin, the hairs across the expanse standing up at the thought of walking inside. There was no way you could differentiate the reaction from plain nerves or from the cringing drills that sound all the way outside the establishment. Regardless, you make an attempt to look confident as you make your strides into the pungent of the workshop.
The first thing you note is how…clean everything is. Cleaner than any other workshop you’ve walked into anyway.
The interior is bigger than it looks from the outside, the ginormous hall hosting about a dozen cars within your eyeshot alone. One side of the great hall holds an array of parked cars in different stages of dismantled and deconstructed, while the other side is lined with contraptions that look like stripped and enlarged elevators.
Once you’ve inhaled a beyond recommended amount of smoke fumes and listened past all of the clanging, banging and sparks, you register the people that are elbow deep in the hoods of the vehicle they’re working on, enough to leave you and Liv standing at the entrance of an establishment that you can barely make sense of.
“Can I help you?” A man in stained beige overalls approaches your wide eyed pair, face half covered in his baseball hat and hands occupied with a rag.
To your slightest dismay, it isn’t the man you’re looking for.
“Uh– is Wonwoo here?” you ask.
“He’s in a meeting right now. Are you a friend?”
No, just a failed love interest.
“He,” you falter. If you weren’t a friend…then what were you? “He gave me his card.”
“Do you need help with your car?”
“Mine, actually,” Liv pipes. “It’s outside if you wanna take a look first.”
With one sweeping look across the warehouse, your eyes land on one of the few doors on the left. You register the plain look of it for barely a moment before joining Liv outside.
By the time her car has been rolled and parked inside for a more thorough inspection, it’s taken you every last grain of your willpower to not stalk back out and wait in your car. For whatever reason, you can’t help but feel a very familiar spasm of irritation spark through you. Here you are, left anxiously waiting for the same man for a second time, merely feet away but remaining occupied with more important things.
At the very least, the multiple hands prodding around the car’s engine were being somewhat of use, attempting to survey the same issues that had been looked at about a dozen times before. You silently promise to be a better person if this trip wouldn’t be for vain.
“Am I late for something again?”
Your throat is suddenly clogged as you open your mouth and no sound graces your presence. The face that meets you has his eyebrows raised as he stares at you in expectation, a ghost of a smile on his face.
“W–Wonwoo, hi, um.” You clear your throat loudly, heat cursing your cheeks. “No, of course not.”
“To what do I owe the pleasure after…four months?” he asks, hands on his hips and his back straightened.
“I…my friend’s car needed to be looked at so…”
“Ah, of course!” He turns to where you’ve motioned, looking at the popped hood of the car his employees are working on. “I’ll take a look at it myself, don’t worry about it.”
He’s already walking away, towards the car and leaving you a ways away from the action. You stare at his back; the overalls tied at the waist and the stained white T-shirt that clings to his form from the humidity.
Wonwoo remains a man of a few words, and you remain at wits end about it all.
A loud honk gives you something to do as you jump at the sound so up close, scrambling to move away from the smack centre as another car pulls into the garage.
“Careful, those marks on the floor aren’t just oil and paint.” Wonwoo snickers from his place hunched over the hood as he cranes his neck to look at you.
You walk over to where he is to get out of the way. “Was that meant to sound like an innuendo?”
“I was talking about the occasional running over someone’s foot,” he answers. “Not sure what you were thinking.”
Ignoring the jab, you note that it was now only you and him crowding the car, “Where’s Olivia?”
“Went to look at spare parts.” You watch him as his gloved hands reach further into the enclave and yank at something hard.
“So you can fix it?”
“The car? It’ll take a couple days but it’s not really an issue.”
Furrowing your brows, you press on, “But the dealership—”
“Dealerships are the spawn of the devil,” he grunts as he finally wrenches out a spare nut or bolt or something that’s covered in oil. “Let me guess, they wanted her to sell it back to them?”
It’s your turn to raise your brows. “Yes. They tried fixing it, but it'd just stop again.”
“Because they’ve been fixing the symptoms.” He raises his eyes to meet yours, hands occupied with rubbing the part in his hands relatively clean with a rag. “They haven’t bothered to do anything about the actual problem.”
“Because that’s gonna cost…?”
“Couple hundred, give or take,” he announces nonchalantly, turning his focus back to the engine.
“But—” That’s it?
“Fifty extra for every question I have to answer after this.” You briefly wonder if Wonwoo’s eyes were always this piercing, boring into your soul like he didn’t need words to know what was going on with you.
“Fine,” you huff, moving to drag a chair over, mostly just so you could have reason to break eye contact, and plop down as you watch him work.
The more you think about it, the more you can find yourself unbothered by his strange behaviour. He wasn’t bleak, but nowhere near one of the more interesting people you’ve met. Taking the opportunity to really scan the man head to toe, you can’t say you find anything truly concrete to be this put off by him.
Not much of a talker, but with the times you’ve prayed for a man that knew when to shut up sometimes, you wonder how much you can actually complain about this boon in particular.
Besides, he was a looker, and you were completely content shutting your trap if it meant you got to shamelessly ogle at him from this close.
“You know, this place looks bigger than it does from the outside.”
Wonwoo stares pointedly.
You raise a shoulder in nonchalance, “Wasn’t a question!”
He simply huffs as he mumbles, “More length than breadth I suppose.”
“What are those things called?” you ask as you watch a sedan get lifted into the on some platform on the other end of the row.
Glancing back, he answers, “Post lift, car lift, whatever you wanna call it.”
“What does it do?”
“Take a wild guess.”
“Touché.”
Glancing back at him, you catch sight of his stained shirt once again. “Is that the same thing you wore to our date?”
Chin to chest, he registers what he’s wearing, hands still working on pulling bolts and boxes out of the hood. “Have about twenty of the same shirt, I can never be too sure.”
“You’re impossible.”
He smirks, “Touché.”
You questioned if this was a mistake.
Olivia could pick up her car herself, so why did you insist to be the one that did it? As you pay the taxi driver, you feel your ankles lock for a moment as you move to slip out of the cab. Frozen, you hear the driver ask you if everything was alright, to which your legs seem to work again, finally foot to gravel in front of the dreaded workshop.
The Jeon Motors sign blares the same as it always has in the afternoon light, glinting as it encourages you to walk in and do one of the stupider things you’ve done in life. Other than the ridiculous outfit you’ve put on, of course.
But alas, as you hand over your slip to one of the many mechanics in the workshop, you find yourself praying he wasn’t here after all, that perhaps you could miss him as you leave and never have to see him again.
Somebody yells out his name, and the dream drifts away like smoke.
Finding the courage, you look up to where the man shouted for him, and immediately wish you hadn’t.
Wonwoo remains in his overalls, the same ones that he had tied to his waist the last time you saw him. His undershirt however…
The tank top is revealing too much for you to pretend you don’t care, his hair remaining pushed back and away from his forehead as he walks over to you in what feels like slow motion. He takes the slip that he does not need, smiling at you as he says his hellos.
“Car’s all fixed up, just need some papers that need signing and you’re all set.”
“Oh, but Liv isn’t here today.”
“That’s alright, you can sign them too,” he reassures, motioning for you to walk with him towards the car. “The car was alright in the test drives, revving hasn’t caused any problems either.”
He halts in front of the now (supposedly) fixed black sedan and pats the hood lightly, “If anything happens tell her to bring it straight here, although it shouldn’t have any more problems.”
“What’s your rate of return on customers?” you ask, a slight smirk on your face.
He thinks for a moment, “Pretty crap. But I guess that means I’m doing something right.”
You consider yourself something of a helicopter parent when it comes to your own car, but perhaps you’d change that if it meant you’d get to come here a little more often.
Goodness, what’s gotten into you.
Wonwoo’s smiling too, and for a brief moment the silence is nearly awkward. A pause before he proposes leaving.
“Shall we go to the office then?”
Nodding eagerly, you trail behind him as he leads you towards the other end of the workshop, passing by even more cars in all their stripped or constructed glory. Glancing in front, you catch sight of Wonwoo’s back, ensnared for a moment before you snap your head away, reciting every curse word you know like a mantra.
“It’s less hot in here too, keep the air on all the time.” Wonwoo stands in front of the plain doors, hands on the handle to wrench it open. You recognise it as the same door you had noted a few days ago. “Would you like anything? Coffee, tea?”
“Um, just water is fine, thanks.”
It’s quite plain, beige and leather against cream walls and unfittingly white lights. There’s a desk on one corner that’s beyond cluttered with more papers than you can register, pens and other office supplies mixed into the disorganised chaos of the large tabletop.
“Sorry about the mess, I can never find time to sort through it.” To your surprise, the light tinge of his cheeks suggest he might actually feel a little embarrassed.
Cute.
There’s cabinets that line on one of the far walls, and you watch him take his gloves off to open it and reach for a cup. The white porcelain emerges stained with an ashy grey as his fingers betray him. He looks flustered, glancing at his hands and back up to the cabinet.
You can’t help but laugh a little, moving forward to help. “It’s alright, let me.”
“Sorry,” he apologised again, with a sheepish look on his face. “I’ll, um, wash this off.”
“Go on, I’m here,” you reassure as you move towards the water dispenser in the corner to fill your clean cup.
He returns with significantly cleaner hands and apologises one last time. “Seems all I do around you is apologise.”
You have the good humour to chuckle, “So I’ve noticed.”
He does well to clear out most of the clutter that’s on his desk, leaving enough room to set down a few pieces of paper as you take a seat on the opposite side.
As you scan through the papers, he attempts to make sober conversation. “You should…bring your car around for inspections if you want.”
“Oh? Even if I ask a million questions?”
“I can make an exception or two,” he grins.
“And if you charge me double?”
“Might not charge you at all.”
“Might?” you question as you lift the pen he’d given you to sign the first space.
“Might.”
“And what’re the conditions for that?”
He doesn’t answer as he ponders and you fill in the second blank. “I’ll have to think about that.”
You snort before you can help it, your last signature coming out a little wonky as your hands shake. Turning the papers over to him, you continue, “Well then, let me know when you figure it out.”
He stares pointedly as he accepts the papers before dropping his eyes again, “Can I?”
“Hm?”
“Can I? Let you know?”
It’s like you’ve been frozen over, the typewriter in your mind jamming as it punches out the implications of what he’s saying.
“It seems, at least to me, that we may have gotten off on the wrong foot,” he continues.
You hesitate. “I think so too.”
“I…I don’t want to put anything like pressure on you but–”
“Would you like to try the new gelato place downtown this week?” you ask finally as you save him from his misery. “If…you’d like.”
He looks stunned for a moment before he’s scrambling, “Oh–of course! Yes, anytime is fine with me.”
“Great,” you smile, lifting from your seat. “It’s a date.”
“I’ll promise to wash my hands this time…and my shirt. And I won’t be late.”
“Let’s not make promises we can’t keep,” you tease.
You’re nearing the door as he follows behind, and just as you’re about to pull down on the handle, you hear him say your name.
Turning around, almost too eagerly, you look up at him in expectation. He’s close, almost right behind you as he looks like he’s debating whether opening his mouth is a good idea.
“Are you doing anything else today?”
“Um,” you stutter for a moment. “I don’t have to drop off the car till later tonight, that’s all really.”
He swallows. “Do you wanna stay? Just a little while. We can stay in here, nobody comes in anyway.”
You aren’t entirely sure why you said yes, because you did actually have dinner plans with Liv later tonight, but the teeny tiny voice in your mind egged you on anyway. Besides, Liv wouldn’t mind, not if you were cancelling for this.
This entailed the very friendly contact of Wonwoo’s tongue in your mouth, and the extremely cordial way it seemed to caress your insides. If somebody asked you how it led to this, you don’t think you’d have an answer. Not that you care, especially when his hands are grabbing your waist and hips like that.
He’s already locked the door, reassuring you that nobody would find their boss and client in the smack dab middle of the devil’s tango. You take his word for it, relishing in the way his hot breath hits your skin below your ears, his mouth sucking under your earlobes as you whimper ever so quietly.
Your hands are on his exposed biceps, feeling him up all to your heart's content. “Do you–Do you always wear stuff like this?”
He emerges, wet lipped and eyes trained. “So I wasn’t imagining it.”
“Imagining what?” you ask as you let him unbuckle your trousers.
“Please. Like you weren’t stripping me with your eyes.”
If you were warm before you, you're boiling up now. Were you being so obvious?
“It’s alright,” he reassures as you feel his fingers make contact with the crotch of your panties, pushing in to put pressure on your clit. “Wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t picked up on it.”
You feel his fingers push the dampening fabric away as his fingers make contact with your hole, coating his fingers in the arousal that’s made itself known. It’s hard to not hiss at the way he begins to circle it, thanking the universe that the loud noises of the workshop outside were masking whatever evidence of the heinous crime you were committing inside.
Back against the couch in his office, you settle into the cushions once you feel him rub at your clit, one hand spreading your lips apart as he continues to massage your own wetness onto your throbbing cunt.
When he retreats you almost cry out, but are smothered when he plunges two fingers into your hole instead, curling them almost immediately inside you. The consistent brush of the tips of his fingers on your walls are making it difficult to keep your eyes open, and absolutely impossible to keep your moans at bay.
“Wonwoo, that’s so good, fuck.”
Through your closed eyes, you don’t note when Wonwoo gets on his knees. But you do feel him yank your trousers off entirely, and you definitely feel him place his wet mouth flush on your lower lips, sucking at your clit as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of you mercilessly.
That’s all it takes for your noises to become increasingly high pitched, hands buried in his beautiful hair as he continues to pleasure you beyond imagination.
“I’m so close, keep going, please, it feels so–”
He somehow buries his face in deeper, sucking harder, licking faster, and it’s enough for you to finally feel yourself collapsing on the inside, your composure dissolving as you moan so loud you’re sure they can hear it outside, even through all the clanging and revs of cars.
There’s no way for you to know how long you lay there slumped against the couch cushions, but when you hear Wonwoo speak to you in your ear, you answer.
“Was that okay?”
“More than okay,” you say as you grab his face and pull his lips to yours, tasting the tang in his mouth from your arousal. “Do you have a condom?”
“I–fuck,” he thinks for a moment. “I don’t think I do.”
You try not to feel too disappointed, but you sigh into his mouth anyway.
“Can I fuck your thighs?” you hear him ask, and you might have just orgasmed again, untouched.
“Fuck, yes you can.”
With a yelp, you feel yourself lifted off the couch as you wrap your arms around Wonwoo’s neck, letting him guide you to his desk. “Wonwoo!”
You hear a loud crash of the desk being stripped of all its inhabitants, and your back hitting the cool of the table top.
Wonwoo unties the arms of his overalls around his waist, letting the legs pool to the floor before slipping his hard cock out of his boxers.
You don’t see it as you feel him lock your knees together and lift both your calves to rest on one of his shoulders. But you do feel it as he pushes the head into the seam of your thighs, watching the indent as the pink of his dick appears before you through the skin of your thighs.
Wonwoo’s face is contorted as he pulls back and pushes back through again, this time brushing against your still sensitive clit. You gasp at contact, and immediately feel him thrusting faster.
“Wonwoo,” you grunt. “Lower.”
He obliges, pushing his dick lower so it can rub flush against your clit as he begins to roughen up his pace.
You moan as you feel his free hand that isn’t holding your legs trail to the ends of your shirt, caressing over your stomach to pull it up and reveal your bra clad tits. He pushes his hands under the nearest cup and begins to grope you so wonderfully with his big, warm hands. Rolling the bud between his fingers, you can only grasp onto his wrists as a handheld to keep you down on earth.
The desk beneath you is rattling with noise, the full drawers making themselves known as Wonwoo pounds into your thighs like he would die if he stopped, mouth coming in contact with whatever skin of your legs he could reach, his breath fanning the side of your knees.
You’re close again, and you know he is too with the way his thrusts are beginning to grow sloppy.
“There,” he pants. “Almost.”
You orgasm for the second time, the throb your clit beyond comprehension as the rough of his dick slides across your clit mercilessly.
“Cum like this, Wonwoo please I need to see you cum.”
And he does, shooting the heft of his load to cover your already wet cunt and thighs, landing on your stomach as he continues to ride out his high between your legs.
The back of your head hits the table as you take in gulps of air through the aftermath of it all. Wonwoo is putting his weight on the back of your thighs, holding onto the table for support.
“Oh, Liv is never gonna let me live this down,” you pant, lolling your head to one side as you register him.
He peers up at you through his hair, the stupid smirk on his face, “Do you care?”
You’re smiling a little too when you answer, “Not really.”
And then your legs are off his shoulders as he nestles between them instead, diving in to lift your head and kiss you.
And you let him, although you wouldn’t really call it too much of a kiss—not when the both of you were smiling like idiots through the clash.
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