𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐓 ( finn wolfhard imagines)

ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵃᵐᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵒⁿᵉˢᵗ

SCRAP!! i'm so sorry but i wanted to post something

i feel like i haven't wrote for my mans in awhile

this is kinda smutty so if you have a problem with that, feel free to not read, i'm not here to make anyone feel uncomfortable

tbh this is just a whole ass essay on tension

also not checked, sorry for grammar mistakes

―

"I've been thinking about you all day." He admits, voice hoarse and dry from his exhausting day.

His lips are slightly parted showing off the vibrant pink radiating off them, coated in shiny saliva from pursing his lips together too tightly. Teeth aren't suppose to be attractive but for some reason you couldn't help yourself from wanting to drop to your knees at the mere sight of his pearly whites, vaguely hiding behind his lips.

You swallow long and hard, eyes never leaving the vicinity of his lips or face. Another thing to not get you started on was those plump lips. They were shaped so perfectly-- so damn godly. They were thick putty in your fingers, durable for tugging, snapping, pulling, even biting. And when his tongue rolled over those kissing machines, it could quite literally kill you and you'd beg them from your grave to not prosecute him.

Your fingers trail over his smooth, soft skin. His pale complexion was clearer then a sunny day, not a drop of acne in sight which was a huge shock to you. The feeling of him was addictive and you wanted to have your hands on him all day, everyday, for the rest of your life. 

He's the definition of perfection from the bottom to the top. Sharp ankles to that mop of messy hair.

His breathing pace is slow and calm. You can tell by the way it breezes past you ever so softly, adding onto the realization of how close you are to him.

"D'you hear me, baby-love? 'Said I missed you."

Your eyes blink rapidly, pulling yourself away from the lower half of his face to lock eyes with him.

"S'that so?" You ask under your breath, expression completely dazed from admiring him.

His teeth roughly press down on his bottom lip, a smirk curving behind it. He pulled you closer, tightly embracing your body onto his as if you could disappear in any second. His coarse fingers coach your own into a hand-hold, bringing your conjoint hands up, he smiles, "Y'know my Mom and Dad aren't home.

"Oh, I didn't notice." You exhale with a laugh, beaming on the spot from his giddiness.

His eyes roll back with a chuckle and he leans down to your neck. Your breath hitches at the feeling of his lips softly grazing over your exposed skin. Not once do his lips completely come into contact with you, the teasing hurt so bad. They were so close yet so far away. He moves his face slightly upwards so his mouth was by your ear.

"Bed, now." He whispered with haste.

Your head barely shakes from side to side but it's definitive with your reply, "Mm, I don't think so."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes." His volume increased with a giggle, lips brushing against the side of your neck now.

"No!" You laugh, bringing your fist to his chest.

"Tell me to stop," He demands, eyes traveling down to see his own hands clutching the bottom of your shirt, "...And I will."

You gulp, feeling yourself sway back n' forth in your anxious state. His forehead comes down to meet yours and warmth spreads throughout you. Shutting his eyes he knows his exact intent. Forehead-to-forehead was the way into your heart. It made you feel vulnerable, open, and exposed. Exposed and truthful to the man in front of you, and him only.

You contently sighed, feeling yourself melt into hit touch before he suddenly grabs your face gently with both hands, making you look up at him once again.

"Tell me what you want." He uttered, lips still and Adam's apple merely bobbing in his throat.

Your hands cling onto his, feeling your skin itch from your hair strands laying on your face.

You fluttered your lashes, "You... just you."

That was all it took for him. He instantly leaned in to smash his lips onto yours but you inched away, leaving centimetres between the two of you. The frustrated man let out an irritated groan.

"I don't want you to be nice to me." You stated quietly, afraid of the reaction that will come.

He softly scoffed, face practically on yours, "You always want me to be mean to you. Mm, don't wanna be mean..."

"Yeah, 'cause I'm not a piece of glass. I won't break if you touch me in the ways I want to be touched."

His foot jammed up and down on the ground and abruptly he pulled away, letting out a deep sigh. His eyes leaves yours and he looks around the living area for seconds before nodding his head, "Fine. I'll be mean."

"Okay," You breathed out with excitement.

His hand came to your throat, tightly wrapping his fingers around it. You softly gasped, enjoying the way he yanked you towards himself.

"Tell me what you want me to do to you, honey." He ordered.

The lower half of your body writhed against him, craving the way you needed to be touched, desperately.

He violently shook his head with disapproval, "No. Tell me with words, what do you--"

"No. You do me how you wanna do me. That's the point of this." You rudely interrupted, upset with how generous he could be.

Look, maybe you have some issues. But what kind of girl wouldn't want a man like that to do anything he wished? Violence was your kink and you're currently working on not being ashamed of it.

"For someone who wants me to be in control, you sure do like telling me what to do." Finn muttered lowly, his eyes turning dark and cold.

You innocently shrugged, "Maybe I'm just better at being in control."

With brows raised he shut his eyes to hold himself back from feeding into the bicker.

You smirked, leaning up on your tippy toes to mumble sweet things in his ear, "Use me the way I'm meant to be used."

Your hands openly roamed around on his clothed chest whilst he squeezed his eyes shut in attempt to pretend you hand't said what you just said.