Kinktober 2023

day 22, hatefucking ⇢ gavin reed

warnings: im back on my gavin bullshit, unprotected sex, creampie, gavin teases reader (just a lil bit), fluff at the end

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Gavin Reed was callous, ignorant, and ruthlessly ambitious. He was always getting in your way. He was always questioning what you were doing as if you were an amateur. And you hated him.

But, he always left his mark when he fucked you. Whether it was a bite mark on your shoulder or hickies littering your body, he always ensured you remembered him. Tonight was no exception.

Tonight, he wasn't in the mood for pleasantries as he stormed into your apartment and practically dragged you into your bedroom. Tonight, Gavin's fingertips left their mark as he gripped the plush skin of your hips and pounded into you from behind.

Something must've pissed him off, but his sour mood never surprised you. Not anymore. He was never livid enough not to kiss you as he undressed you, deft fingers and indiscriminate touch leaving you naked and writhing under his touch.

Gavin wrapped a hand around your neck and pulled you up so you were flush against his chest. His lips ghosted over your shoulder and neck and your pulse thumped under his fingertips.

"Fuckin' take me so well, sweetheart," he praised from behind you.

The sound of your nickname tumbling past his lips made you clench around him. His voice was raspy and his words were slurred, and you hated the way it turned you on. You hated the satisfaction that filled you knowing that he had a nickname just for you.

Gavin grinned against the crease of your neck, smug as always.

"My sweetheart," he purred as he snapped his hips against yours. You groaned out his name as his free hand skirted over your body, squeezing and kneading wherever he could.

You grabbed onto his forearm for dear life as you felt the familiar pressure building in your core. You'd memorized the feeling of his skin under your fingertips the first time you'd slept together. Strong muscles gone soft from days spent sitting at a desk. He was always there to ground you when your mind got too muddled from the sensation of him, him, him.

"I'm close, please, please let me cum," you begged, words slurring together. You were drunk on the feeling of him and you were so close.

"Fuckin' love when you beg, sweetheart," he murmured into the crook of your shoulder. He dragged his free hand down your body until it reached where you joined. He drew tight circles around your clit, and the coil inside you snapped.

You groaned his name as you came, and your orgasm wracked through your body. Gavin was quick to follow you off the precipice. Thick, white jets of his cum shoot inside you and cover your walls. You whined at the sensation, loving the way he filled you.

After the twitching of his cock ceased, he loosened his hold on you and you rested on your elbows as you caught your breath.

"Fuck," he breathed as he slowly pulled out of you and watched as his release dripped over your folds and down your thighs.

You rolled over onto your back and scanned over his features. The city lights highlighted his features delicately, and all you wanted to do was run your fingertips over them. His touch was delicate as he cleaned the both of you up, starkly contrasting the brutal thrusts of his hips just moments again.

He laid down beside you, and your eyes widened as he pulled you into his side.

You pressed a hand against his chest, feeling his heartbeat thrum against your fingertips. "Fowler piss you off again?"

He let out a laugh, "Something like that."

You nuzzled against his side and murmured, "Still hate me?"

"Definitely, sweetheart," he replied softly, wrapping his arms tightly around you. "Go to sleep."

And so you fall gently asleep in Gavin's embrace, willing to ignore the way your heart will ache when he wordlessly leaves in the morning. He'd come back. He always did.