Chapter Text
Yeah, your boyfriend'll never understand me (understand me)
'Cause I'm 'bout to pull his girl like a hammy, hammy (wow)
I Like You (A Happier Song)
Post Malone
How it started?
Sometimes, she thought it didn’t do to dwell: what was done was done and she was too deep into it, he was too deep into her, that to untangle it all would be as though to tie her own hands into knots, anyway.
Other times, she was honest: she didn’t care.
Once, she did. Once, she’d come home to– well, truly, it didn’t matter– to smile and duck out of kisses, not yet wanting Colin’s taste out of her mouth, ashamed. Once, she’d feign headache after headache with apologetic eyes, still full of his cum.
Now, all Harry got was a mild and impersonal smile when he told her he’d be back in a few days and that if she missed him, he’s “just a phone call away”. She already knew she wouldn't, but nodded anyway, left him a kiss on the cheek, familiar– near familial, and thought nothing of it as the excitement settled into her gut, about how it was just a few hours until Colin’s flight came in.
And now, he was going to be the one coming: into her.
She moaned, his hair in her fingers, and above her, Colin’s handsome face was stretched in a grin, almost cruel in how beautiful he was in the light. “Is my pretty girl so close to cumming already? When I’ve barely even fucked you?”
Her thighs twitched, one scrabbled around him and the other against the back of the couch, her leg balanced on his shoulder. Beneath her reddened arse, the couch cushion was already soaked. Fuck, it had been ages since last she’d had sex, let alone chased an orgasm like this.
“I can’t- I can’t help it,” she whimpered out, nails digging into the warm, tanned skin of his back, flexing as he rolled his hips into her. “I want you so bad.”
He made a sympathetic noise, a little click of his tongue, and then he was slowing inside her, prolonging the pleasure, making her clench imploringly. Her eyes rolled back, lashes fluttering. “I know, baby, I know,” he said, and she sunk into it, met his hips with her own in a slick clap. “It’s been too long since you’ve been fucked right, hasn’t it? I can feel how much you need it– you’re drenched.”
She whined at his tone, so condescending, so patronizing, so caring– she gushed when he slipped back far enough to tease her entrance, and then, with a click, the vibrations started again on her clit, dialed up to where he’d left it last he’d denied her. The shriek that left her was an animal sound, feral and rabid. There was no way it came from her, that kind of noise. Yet, it had, and were it not for his weight on her, she’d have thrashed off the seat and onto the floor.
“Fuck! Fuck- oh, fuck, Colin- it’s- mm- it’s so much-! ” she was all but choking on her words. His touch ghosted over her breasts and she arched into him, compliant and needy, his fingers worrying her nipple into a desperately pebbled peak. It was electricity inside her, her stomach twitching and rippling in the force of it. And when she looked at him?
Colin was like someone made a painting of a young Apollo, so lovely it really was as though looking upon the sun. And, like the sun, Colin was warm tenderness, gentle touches and hugs, a kiss on her pulse and a held hand as they walked out of the airport, her ear on his shoulder. But he was also the kind of heat that made her molten. It was more than hot, more than basking directly on a beach reflecting a cloudless sky.
What Colin stirred in her, it was insatiable, an inferno in her guts that threatened to ignite her to ash. She panted in the swelter of it, all her skin sluiced with sweat and desire, dripping for him. No one, absolutely no one, made her feel like he did. And yes, she knew he would leave in a few days, the both of them aware and reveling that what they were doing was wrong, and it was worth it.
How it started?
She didn’t fucking care.
His eyes haunted her, deep, determined aquamarine and glinting something like amusement in them as he teased the head of his cock into her over and over while her legs convulsed around him from the vibe on her clit.
He’d leave again and she’d sit on the couch with Harry, shifting away from his wandering hands, remembering Colin and wanting again. Sitting in the evidence of their obsession for each other.
She shook.
“Is it?” he asked, and then turned it up to the next level just as he was all the way in her again, taking the breath from her lungs in the next moan, her head turning side to side as though to say ‘no’. Ugh, but she didn’t want him to stop- never never never, her entire body pulled to him, chasing the release, running from the stimulation and leaning back into it as though a feedback loop. Her hips skittered off the cushion he'd placed under them earlier: she was a lightning bolt of loosely connected sparks in his arms, so alive. “You’re taking me so fucking well, angel, what a good girl you’re being for me,” he purred into her ear. “Or should I call you Kitten? God, just listen to you.”
The strangled noise he wretched out of her would be embarrassing had she not been wrung of all her sense at his hands. She was already so close and the pet name, the tease he’d poked at her about how ‘Kitty has claws’, revealing his scratched back, adorned at her hands after he’d brought out the bullet vibe– it all dangled her over the end, helpless. He squeezed at her tits, making her mewl, and she flushed deep over her thighs. Nothing but broken bits of words left her mouth, only to strangle further as he pulled out of her without warning.
“C-Colin- I-” she cut off when the feeling of his fingers in her sopping cunt made her sob, the way he crooked them mercilessly inside her and tapped hard against the spot in her. She felt as though a hurricane in it, and she knew he knew that- that-
She wailed his name at the gush, her whole body shuddering in the force of her squirt, soaking him and the couch and the carpet beneath them as he started rubbing her off with the vibe itself, tight, concentrated circles that made her buck, riding out the orgasm.
Then, it felt punishing. A guttural sound spilled from her mouth, and he bit his lip, groaning deep as he watched her face change from bliss to the familiar scrunched up expression when he over-sensitized her. She whimpered, weakly pawing at him, but he grinned at her.
“Gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous, keep going baby, squirt all over me,” he said, with all the smugness of a man who knew he had her in the very palm of his hand. As though only able to obey, she felt another trickle of arousal leave her as she threw her head back against the couch.
“Mmm-mnmf, C-Co-”
“That would be Colin,” he said, still light and lilting, though his eyes were dark, pupil wide and starved for her. “Maybe you need some practice.” His voice dropped, firm. “Say it.”
“C-Colin-” she managed, and how she did, she couldn’t know. She didn’t know anything anymore. Her brain was blanking, the brief overstim turning back into a pleasure that made her very bones hum.
“Again,” he commanded, his fingers curling inside her so hard, she arched with them, bowing from the couch.
“Colin!” she repeated, this time mingling with her moan, her legs trying to close in around him as her belly tightened once more, approaching her second orgasm as though she were being sucked into the vortex of a tropical storm, all warm rain on her skin turning to tingling needles as he opened her into an exposed nerve, clawing her way in the storm.
“Perfect. That’s exactly how you’re gonna say it when you cum from just my cock,” he whispered in her ear, then licked down her jaw before clicking the vibrator off, leaving her riding the ghost of the buzz with a gasp. Her hips bounced, the horrible hollow of nothing on her, in her, utterly unbearable. He was merciful, at least- on the upswing, he pushed hard against her once more, slippery fingers lining them up before he stretched her around his girth.
The sound that left her– it was almost relieved, though it tattered . Colin barked a pleasured laugh that ebbed into a hum. “Fuck, you’re so slick inside, Princess,” he praised, kissing her neck in a featherlight motion that completely belied that deep, steady rhythm he started up, each time pushing in to the hilt and grinding against her clit. “You were made to be fucked by me, weren’t you? So hungry for my cock.”
She humped herself on him, beyond dignity, beyond thought, nodding with an enthusiastic “Mmmhm!” as she rode against him. Was she? She felt drunk, almost. She breathed out a giggle. Cockdrunk. What a funny word. His hand came to her face, thumb to her lips, and her tongue lolled out as he did, licking at the tip and hazily looking at his flushed face above her, clearly approaching the end, himself.
Her clit felt too sensitive, and when they separated, she ached for him immediately, wanting him to grind her to nothing on that couch. She wanted him to reach deep inside her and make her burst and rupture, turn her to the kind of glistening rubble that she craved so badly.
She watched as he licked his lips, slipped his hand to her throat. The pressure wasn’t enough– no, it was too much, she couldn’t breathe. No, it was almost what she needed, almost, so so so close-
“Say it. Tell me, who’s fucking you so well?” he asked, hair in his eyes, lips swollen and raspberry. Wild. He was wild. She was transfixed, frenzied in her need.
“You- you are- Colin, you are.”
“Who else fucks you like this?” His hips snapped, hard and brutal against her. She felt like her entire body was a bruise he was pressing into, deeper and deeper, the pleasured-ache radiating everywhere, pulsing in her blood.
“No one-” she gasped, eyes unseeing, feeling his skin beneath her nails.
“That’s right, no one,” he said, and if she could see him, she’d see the possessive gleam that spattered over his face, be able to read all his emotions in it as he finally allowed himself to let go, surrendering. Thank God– she needed it, she wanted it– inside her, the mantra ruin me, love me. god, love me or kill me. fuck me fuck me fuckme built and bobbed. “No one fucks you like I do, no one will ever fuck you like I do. Not him, not anyone. Fucking. Say. It. Say. My. Name,” each punctuated with another steady beat into her– until she finally snapped.
She’d never been a screamer, not once in her life. There were times when she’d come with a moan, a sharp inhale, even a single, pleased hum, but this was overwhelming. Maybe she said his name, maybe she didn’t, but everything in her was thrumming it, no longer belonging to her. The essence of her was somewhere else, dripping between her own legs, the water of her onto his thighs, only to be filled with him, instead, as he came with a sharp “Pen!” that would have her willingly cracking her heart open, if just to fit more of him inside.
Penelope tucked her face against his neck, tangled her hands into his curls and soothed over the crescent indents she’d left on his shoulders, fingers fluttering over him.
This? This was the only time she was ashamed of what she was doing, when he was so spent atop her, so perfect, so lovely, breathing hard in his exertion, in his devotion of her– and she never wanted to let him go.
Even when she was the one who said it was alright every time.
She inhaled, memorized him, feeling the way his arms shook and then locked in turns, before he finally had the control to give his weight onto her in an easy swoop instead of a sudden collapse. And she loved him for that, too. She loved him for all of it. All that he was.
All these hollow relationships and for what? She didn’t even like anyone the way she liked Colin, let alone loved them. He always helped her remember that. She always wanted him to. When he was away, though they weren’t together, she felt she was the one cheating on him, and not the one who was cheating on her boyfriend with him, as though anyone she was with that was not Colin was a betrayal.
Well, it was, that was the worst of it. It was: not to him but to herself.
Maybe it was time to break up with Harry. Again.
When Colin finally stirred, her arms tightened around him, and he paused. “I’m just gonna pull out,” he assured her, voice soft. She swallowed as he kissed her neck, relaxing at it and nodding. “But the water’s just fine,” he continued, grinning boyishly, “always happy to take a dip.”
She snorted a giggle, and all her thoughts fell away. She was with Colin and nothing else mattered. She’d burn her bridges when she had to cross them with anyone else. As though a reward, she placed a kiss on his cheek, rubbing her lips over his stubble. God, he was breathtaking. One day– one day–
Ah, they both knew. Placeholders passing by in their lives or not, at the end of the day, they were each other’s. No one else’s.
Without pulling out, he moved his weight off her, reaching for the bottle of water they’d long learned to keep near. She watched, intrigued, as he opened the cap with his teeth, the line of his throat particularly enticing as his Adam’s Apple bobbed. Water sluiced down his chin, dripping onto his chest, and when her eyes flickered up, she realized that he was watching her.
And he was doing it on purpose.
She bit her lip, licked them, stared unashamedly as he purposefully dripped some more, his torso moving and glistening with the droplets.
“Thirsty?” he asked, half the bottle already gone. Her mouth was dry. She nodded.
Colin took another swill, his eyes playful and promising, filling his mouth before putting the bottle to the side and, without warning, slid his arm between her curves and the cushions to haul her against him in a sudden crush. Mouth popped open, she stared at him as he guided the back of her head and spilled the water from his lips into hers, barely a breath between them.
It shouldn’t have been erotic. It shouldn’t. But she found herself swallowing hard, barely the time to gasp before he kissed her, all the excess dripping between them and onto her fevered skin. She goosefleshed at it, and he took the moment to pull out of her. The feeling of his cum joining the mess she’d made of her thighs and cheeks made her shiver further, ricocheting between the sensations.
When he pulled away, she followed after him, much to his chuckle. Lips tingling, she pouted when she opened her eyes. “Don’t laugh at me.”
“You’re so cute,” he said, grinning and leaning back, shifting the knee he had on the outside of the couch so he was standing on it, instead, using the leverage to lower her softly back down. “And so hot.”
She peered up at him, letting her hands drop around her head in a submissive pose that she knew drove him crazy. His eyes traced over her and she felt the trail as though it were a fingertip. “Am I?”
“You have no idea,” he said, reaching for the bottle once more and dribbling it over her, the cold splatters of it making her rock, finding herself opening against his thigh. “And I have you for a whole week. Your new ex-boyfriend’s gonna need to deep clean this entire fucking house by the time I’m done with you.” He finished it off with another drink, grasping her face and pressing his fingers into her cheeks to make her open, which she did with a soft groan of anticipation.
He leaned over, a dark, sultry look on his face, and spat it into her mouth, “Swallow,” and she did without a single thought, already riding his leg and losing herself to the skitter of his fingers stroking down her throat, up between her tits, over her belly– yes yes yes.
How it started?
Did it matter, so long as it didn’t end?