IF I CATCH YOU, I FUCK YOU: M.S.
in which. . .matt makes good on his promise (part 2 to this fic)
warnings: stalking, use of a burner phone, small hints at dubcon, matt (pretend) breaking into your house, smut, unprotected p in v, degradation, dirty talk, hunter x prey dynamics, mask kink, knife kink, creampie, GRAPHIC m*rder depictions/language -> 1.2k
note: this is a dark romance fic that does not end with aftercare and is not for people under 18. don't like it, don't read it!
you closed your book, setting it on the bench beside you. the chilly october air rustled through the trees, scattering fire-colored leaves around the park you sat in. today was your day off, and you had opted to get a chai latte from a local cafe and work on the book you'd been slowly reading through for the past month.
ring ring
your phone vibrated in your tote bag beside you, drawing your attention. you sighed when you saw the unknown caller label, but decided to answer; it could be someone or something important.
"hello?" you answered cheerfully, chewing on your thumbnail as you wondered who it could be.
"hello, y/n y/l/n." a man's voice rasped, deepening your confusion.
"can i help you?"
"i believe you know what i want." the voice replied.
"i think you have the wrong number," you said, voice curt but polite. "have a good day!"
you clicked the line off, setting your phone beside you and taking up your book again. you thought nothing of the call, attributing it to an insurance agent who was completing their daily telemarketing. you had barely gotten five minutes of reading in when your phone rang again. irritation bubbled up in your chest when you saw another unknown number, but you decided to answer, hoping that engaging the person would make them quit calling you.
"i swear to god if you hang up on me again, i'll fuckin' kill you," the man said. "i'll slit your throat. you've seen my knife."
that tips you off. it's matt. you remember the call from last week and his threat about if he were to catch you, he'd fuck you. for some reason, despite knowing who was on the other end of the line, fear bubbled up in your chest and your mouth ran dry. you knew this wasn't matt's cell phone, because you had his number saved. he'd gone as far as to get a burner phone to role play with you.
"i-i'm sorry," you whimpered. "it. . .it won't happen again."
"do you remember a little conversation you had with me last week, sweetheart? it sure would be a shame if you were caught. well, for you, maybe." matt chuckled.
"you're a creep!" you hissed, but that didn't stop the wetness from pooling between your legs.
"awww, baby. don't act like you're not enjoying this, drippin' all over that park bench."
you gulped. he could see you. "i'm not kidding this time! i'll call the cops!"
"and what? you think they'll catch me? you can't even find your own stalker, little dove." he teased.
your body thrummed with a mix of fear and arousal. matt was a little too good at playing this role, to the point you felt genuine terror mixing with your sex drive. you quickly shoved your book into your tote bag, throwing it over your shoulder and dumping your to-go latte in a nearby trash can. all the while, you could hear matt laughing at your fear and the scared little whimpers that left your mouth.
"run, baby. remember. . .if i catch you, i fuck you."
luckily, the walk back to your apartment was less than half a mile, but you couldn't stop yourself from looking over your shoulder now and again, wondering if you would catch matt lurking. you didn't see anything, but you could feel his presence. the sky darkened overhead with the beginnings of an october thunderstorm, making the leaves fall faster and adding to the setting of your "stalker" chasing you.
you hurried into the lobby of your apartment building, racing for the stairs. your body thrummed with the excitement of what matt would do to you when he caught you, knowing he wasn't one to leave a promise empty. sure enough, just when you were about to pull open the door to your floor, you heard footsteps on the stairs below you and matt chuckle darkly.
you fumbled with your keys, hastily unlocking your apartment and shoving the door shut behind you, back pressed against the wood. your "stalker" pounded on the door with the hilt of his knife.
"i know you're in there. . .and i know you're all alone," matt's voice came through. "no big, strong man to protect you from me fucking you into oblivion and then ending you with no one around to witness it."
you crawled away from the door, curling up in a ball by your coffee table. your pussy dripped with excitement, the thought of what matt was about to do to you making your heart race. sure enough, within thirty seconds, matt had let himself into your apartment, dressed in all black and a ghostface mask splattered with fake blood, brandishing a knife that you were sure he had purchased from spirit halloween.
he stalked towards you, gripping your hair in his fist. "well, looks like i caught you, little dove. remember our promise?"
you nodded meekly, voice catching in your throat. your eyes were practically screaming at matt to fuck you as he held the knife to your throat, using the hand that had been in your hair to yank down your skirt.
"you're so pretty like this," he rasped from under the mask, paying no mind to the weak, pretend punches you threw at him. "every night when i pass by your apartment and see you changing with the windows open, it drives me crazy thinking about all the things i could do to you," matt's eyes trailed down your body, pausing when they came to the red, lacy thong you had on. "you have on my favorite color. . .were you waiting for me? wouldn't surprise me that a girl like you would welcome a guy like me."
"that's not tr-" you hissed, but were cut off by the moan that escaped your lips as matt's knife pressed deeper into your neck.
"don't play dumb with me, baby," matt growled as he yanked you up, pressing you against the wall. in an instant, your panties were off, pooling around your ankles. "if it was, you wouldn't be so wet for me."
you blushed, your mouth salivating. the scene was filthy, gruesome, and depraved, but you loved it. "please don't kill me, mr. ghostface!" you squeaked.
the mask was tossed aside, revealing matt's flushed face and eyes gone slightly wild with the thrill of hunting you down like you were some sort of prey. "aww, i won't. how could i ever get rid of my favorite little fleshlight?" he snorted, voice dripping with faux sympathy as he yanked his own pants down.
you didn't get any sort of warning before matt slammed into you, his thick, girthy cock filling you to the brim. "jesus christ, little dove," he cursed. "whatever boyfriend you have isn't fucking you right. you're so fuckin' tight."
whatever role play you and matt had been engaging in fell away as he fucked you relentlessly, your back arching against the wall. you could already feel the knot tightening in your tummy; after all, it had been building since you'd received that first phone call in the park.
"no, please!" you tried to bargain, really not wanting him to stop at all.
"what was that?" matt smirked. "yes please? don't mind if i do."
he slammed into you one last time, which caused you to cry out as you came around him, the walls of your pussy clenching with pleasure. once you had cum, it was over for matt. a loud, throaty groan left his lips as his seed filled you up.
"now," matt said, dropping you to the floor and readjusting his pants. "you don't tell anyone about this and we won't have a problem, yeah? otherwise. . .i might have to hunt you down."
CHLO YAPS: bro what happened to me to make me into this. . .
✧ hockeyplayer!chris x figureskater!reader, friends to lovers, dom!chris, mutual pining, stimulation, unprotected sex
✧ summary: you’re a figure skater. chris sturniolo is a hockey player. you meet every day at the same rink, and what starts as passing conversations after practice turns into him staying longer than he should—and you letting him.
✧ word count: 1.8k
✧ authors note: based on this request! (if you saw this posted earlier #sorry it was an accident...)
you'd spent years around ice rinks.
which meant you'd spent years around hockey players. loud hockey players. cocky hockey players.
hockey players who thought they owned every rink they stepped into.
so when chris first started hanging around after your practices, you told yourself he was no different.
that explanation lasted about a week. because unfortunately, chris was annoying in a completely different way.
for one thing, he was impossible to ignore.
you could always tell when he'd gotten to the rink because there'd be a burst of laughter from somewhere down the hallway. the sound of hockey bags hitting the floor. a coach yelling at someone.
and then eventually chris would appear usually carrying his stick over one shoulder, his hair messy from shoving a hat on and off.
looking unfairly good for someone who spent half his life getting slammed into walls.
it was irritating.
especially because he seemed completely unaware of it. or maybe he was aware. that possibility was honestly worse.
you were adjusting your skate guards one afternoon when you noticed him on the ice.
his team had practice after yours, and your coach was busy talking to someone, leaving you stuck waiting by the boards.
normally you would've been checking your phone. instead, you found yourself watching.
just for a second.
hockey looked chaotic compared to figure skating. figure skating was precision. timing. control.
hockey looked like organized violence.
yet somehow chris moved through it effortlessly fast. confident. comfortable.
like he'd been born with skates on.
he caught a pass, cut sharply across the ice, and sent the puck into the net. one of his teammates yelled something. chris immediately pointed at himself.
show off.
you rolled your eyes.
he looked toward the boards at that exact moment.
and caught you watching. your stomach dropped as his grin appeared instantly.
great.
just great.
later, after practice, he found you sitting on the bench unlacing your skates.
"see something you liked?" you nearly threw a skate at him.
"your ego is unbelievable."
"that's not a no."
you laughed despite yourself which only encouraged him.
"you watched almost my whole practice."
"i was literally waiting for my coach."
"for forty minutes?"
"don't make this weird."
"i'm making this weird?"
he looked entirely too pleased with himself and you hated it.
mostly because he looked cute when he smiled. which was a problem. a serious problem.
the kind of problem that got worse every day.
because somehow every conversation with him lasted longer than the last one.
what started as five-minute conversations became twenty.
then thirty.
then suddenly you were sitting in empty arenas talking long after everyone else had gone home.
learning things about each other without meaning to.
he knew your competition schedule. you knew which teams he hated playing. he knew which jumps stressed you out. you knew he always got nervous before big games no matter how much he denied it.
and somewhere in between all of that, things changed.
the way his eyes lingered a second too long.
the way your heart sped up whenever he walked into a room.
the way both of you started finding excuses to stay.
one night, practice ran especially late.
most of the rink lights had already been turned off by the time you stepped off the ice.
your legs ached, your hair was a mess, and you were exhausted.
chris was sitting in the stands waiting. again.
you weren't even surprised anymore.
"do you actually have a life?" you asked.
he stood up, a smirk spreading across his face. "rude."
"i'm serious."
"i am too."
you laughed softly and he smiled.
and for some reason your chest felt tight. he started walking down toward the boards, not breaking eye contact.
your pulse immediately betrayed you.
"why are you looking at me like that?" you asked.
"like what?"
"you know exactly what."
his grin returned for a second, then faded. replaced by something softer. something that made your stomach flip. "maybe i'm just looking at you."
the answer should've been simple.
it wasn't.
the rink felt quieter, smaller. suddenly you were aware of everything.
the cold air. the distance between you. the fact that neither of you seemed interested in moving away.
for once, chris didn't have a joke ready. for once, neither did you.
"you know," he said quietly, "you're a lot harder to talk to when you're looking at me like that."
your breath caught.
"i wasn't aware i was."
"trust me."
his smile returned, smaller now.
warmer.
"you are."
and neither of you looked away.
the silence stretched. heavy. neither of you moved.
chris took another step down the bleachers.
metal echoed in the empty arena. each sound hit your chest like a drum.
he reached the bottom row. eye level now. close enough to see the flush on his cheeks.
"you gonna make me do all the work here?" he asked. voice low. rougher than usual.
"depends on what you're offering."
shit, that came out breathier than you'd meant. his eyes darkened. he hopped down, landing soft on the rubber in front of you.
"you're shaking," he noticed.
"cold."
his hand lifted, hesitant in a way you'd never seen from him. his fingertips brushed your jaw.
warm and calloused from sticks and tape and fights in the corners. you leaned into it without meaning to. his thumb traced your cheekbone.
"still cold?"
you couldn't answer. his other hand found your waist, pulling you closer by inches.
your hands ended up on his chest, feeling his hard muscle beneath his jersey. his heart hammered against your palm, matching yours.
"tell me to stop," he said. "and i will."
you didn't.
instead you tilted your face up. his mouth found yours and months of teasing snapped between you.
he tasted like mint and desperation. his hand slid to your lower back. pressed you flush against him. you gasped into his mouth when you felt how hard he was through his pants.
the thin fabric did nothing to hide it. the knowledge that it was you doing that to him made your head spin.
"fuck," he breathed against your lips. "you have no idea how long—"
"show me."
he made a sound. wrecked. walked you back until your shoulder blades hit the boards.
freezing cold at your back. burning everywhere else. the contrast made you gasp.
he used the opportunity to deepen the kiss. tongue slid against yours. hand tangled in your hair while the other gripped your hip hard enough to leave marks tomorrow. you hoped it did.
you could feel him now. grinding against your stomach as he pinned you there. the smell of ice and rubber and his cologne surrounded you.
"here?" he asked. mouth hot against your neck. teeth grazed the tendon there. he bit down and sucked.
"nobody's here," you managed. arched into him. desperate for friction. "lights are—"
"anyone could walk in."
his hand slipped under your jacket. under your top. rough palm slid up your ribs. and his thumb brushed under your nipple. you moaned. loud. embarrassing in the silence. he laughed. actually laughed. breathless against your skin.
"that sound," he said. "i've been imagining that sound for months."
"shut up."
you grabbed his face and kissed him aggressive. demanding. trying to take back some control. he let you for a second. let you bite his lower lip. then he responded by lifting you, just high enough to wrap your legs around his waist.
he held you there, pressed between the boards and his body, grinding up with a rhythm that made your vision blur. the friction was perfect.
you were whimpering now. couldn't help it. the sounds fell out of you every time he rolled his hips just right.
"tell me what you want," he demanded. ragged. voice shot. "exactly—"
"want you inside," you said. not caring how desperate. voice broke. "chris, i swear to god—"
he went still. pulled back enough to look at you. eyes blown wide. "you sure? here?"
"now," you begged. "please. need you."
he groaned. the sound vibrated through his chest into yours. he set you down. hands shook as he dragged your leggings down. you stepped out of them and kicked them aside. then he was unzipping his own pants, shoving them down just enough. he was heavy in his hand. flushed and leaking at the tip. he stroked himself once. twice. all while watching your face with blown out eyes.
"come here," he said. voice rough. broken.
you went to him. he lifted you again and your back hit the boards again. it was cold, but then he was there, pressing against your entrance. not pushing in yet. just rubbing through your wetness. teasing. making you whine.
"chris," you gasped. "please. don't make me wai—"
"shh," he soothed. but his voice was wrecked. "i got you. i got you."
he pushed in. slow. so slow you felt every inch. your head fell back and hit the boards. he was big, stretching you, burning in the best way. he groaned and the sound echoed off the rafters. he dropped his forehead to your shoulder, panting.
"fuck," he choked out. "fuck, you're tight. feel so good. been thinking about this. thinking about you."
"please," you begged. "please chris."
he pulled out. slid back in. found a rhythm. shallow at first, then deeper, harder. the boards rattled behind you with every thrust. he was making noise now, grunts and groans falling out of him every time he bottomed out. he sounded ruined and desperate.
"you feel that?" he asked. strained. "feel how much i want you?"
"yes," you sobbed. "yes, i feel it. don't stop. don't—"
he shifted his grip. hit a new angle. you cried out. he did it again. again. chasing that spot. his hand moved between you. he found your clit and rubbed circles there while he fucked you against the boards. sloppy. desperate. the sounds of skin meeting skin filled the empty rink.
"gonna—" he warned. "fuck. i'm close. you're squeezing me. so good. so-"
"come inside," you begged. "want to feel it. chris. please."
he groaned and thrusted deep, staying there. you felt him pulse, hot, spilling into you. he kept fucking you through it until you were shaking around him. he worked his hand faster between you.
you came with his name on your lips, shaking against him as he held you up while making these broken sounds into your neck. little whimpers. like he couldn't process how good it was.
when you finally opened your eyes he was staring at you. pupils blown. hair a disaster. cheeks flushed. chest heaving.
"that," he said. rough. wrecked. "that was worth every single week of waiting."
you laughed, breathless and giddy. you pulled him down for another kiss, slower this time, deeper. you could still feel him inside you, twitching and getting soft. neither of you moved to separate.
"we're gonna get caught," you mumbled against his mouth.
"worth it," he said. "you're worth it."
he stayed there. held you up. traced patterns on your back through your jacket lazily.
✧ authors note: hey people…i dont feel very good abt this one but i need to post… (i also need to build a bigger taglist so comment if you want to be tagged)
"look," matt commands, gripping your chin, forcing your eyes to the mirror. "look at how fucking stretched you are around me."
he's got you bent over the bathroom counter, one hand pinning your wrists, the other gripping your hip hard enough to bruise. the mirror is fogged slightly from the shower you'd left running, but you can still see where he's inside you, where your pussy is gripping him, flushed and swollen, taking him deep.
"so fucking tight," he breathes, rolling his hips, grinding deep, watching your face in the reflection. "see that? see how you have to open up for me? how you struggle to take it?"
you whine, nodding, tears streaming welling in your eyes.
"good girl," he praises, snapping his hips forward, making you gasp, making you press against the counter. "taking me so well. so pretty when you sound like this."
he slows down drawing out almost to the tip, before sinking back in, inch by inch, making you feel every vein, every ridge.
"watch," he orders, when your eyes flutter shut. "wanna see your face when i bottom out. wanna see how fucked out you look."
you obey, desperate, needy, and watch in the mirror as he pushes deeper, deeper, until you can feel him in your fucking stomach, and your mouth falls open, eyes rolling back.
"that's it," he murmurs, reaching around, finding your clit with rough fingers. "look at you. stuffed full of me. can barely think, can you?"
"no—" you whimper, and he laughs.
"good." he speeds up, pounding into you now, the counter edge digging into your hips, the mirror shaking with every thrust.
"taking my big dick like you were made for it. like this little pussy was built just for me."
"please," you beg, nails raking down his back, "please, can't, can't take more"
"yes you can," he snarls, fucking you harder, chasing his own release.
"cum on my cock and i'll fill you up. want that? want me to cum deep inside you? you want my babies don't you...look so pretty full of my babies..."
you can't form words anymore, just gasps, whines, the occasional desperate "yes" when he hits that spot that makes your vision blur.
the sound of skin on skin is obscene, wet, slick, the slap of his hips against you, your broken moans, his ragged breathing. he's relentless, fucking you like he wants you to feel him for days.
"gonna cum?" he asks, watching your face in the mirror, your mouth fall open.
"yes, yes, please—"
"beg," he snarls, gripping your hair, pulling your head up, arching your back. "beg me to let you cum. beg me to fill you up."
"please, matt. please let me cum. please cum inside me—"
he groans, losing rhythm, and then he's grinding deep, hot, pulsing, spilling into you with a ragged moan that echoes off the bathroom tiles. you follow, clenching around him so hard he whimpers, sensitive.
he doesn't pull out. stays buried, throbbing, watching in the mirror as his cum spills out around him.
"good girl," he mumbles, pressing lazy kisses to your shoulder, your neck, your jaw. soft now, satisfied.
✧ bsf chris!, friends to lovers, dom!chris, teasing, clit stimulation, unprotected sex
✧ summary: you're sexually frustrated after months without sex and during a seemingly innocent hangout with chris, tensions and casual touches escalate until he offers to "help you out," finally satisfying your needs.
✧ word count: 2.3k
✧ authors note: i need to go to horny jail bc why have i been writing nonstop. also sue me im a sucker for friends to lovers. (also also if u saw this posted earlier no u didnt that was an accident.)
it's been three months. three long months since your last hookup, and your body was making you pay for it. you felt exposed, every casual touch from a stranger felt like a jolt. it was hell.
so when chris texted you, "come over? we can chill. i'm tired," you almost cried with relief. you needed the comfort, the platonic intimacy, the distraction from the constant arousal that had become your every day.
he answers the door in gray sweatpants and a worn out band tee, looking soft and domestic and completely harmless.
you hand him the takeout you brought, and he grins, pulling you into a quick, one armed hug.
"missed you," he says, his voice warm in your ear. it's a normal thing to say, but it sends a shiver down your spine.
you settle on the couch, a decent amount of space between you. he puts on some dumb action movie you've both seen a dozen times and you dig into the food.
for a while, it's fine. it's normal. you're laughing, yelling at the screen, arguing about which character has the most ridiculous death scene.
but then he leans forward to grab the remote, and his arm brushes against your breast. it's nothing. a quick touch. but your entire body reacts. you feel your nipples stiffen instantly, a familiar heat pooling in your gut. you shift, pressing your thighs together under the blanket you'd pulled over your lap.
he flops back against the cushions, slinging his arm up along the back of the sofa behind you. "god, i'm exhausted," he sighs, letting his head fall back.
you can see the pulse ticking in his neck and the way his shirt's pulled tight across his chest. he's just laid out for you like that, all long and tall and unfairly hot.
"long week?" you ask, trying to keep your voice steady.
"you have no idea." his eyes are closed. he looks vulnerable. "just… wanna relax."
you nod, then hesitate. "scoot down a bit."
he cracks an eye open. "why?"
"just… come here." you pat the space between your legs. "you look like you're about to fall over."
he considers it for a second, then shrugs, shifting so he's lying with his cheek against your chest, you wrap your arms around his back, pulling the blanket up over both of you.
it's better. it's worse. the solid weight of him against you is comforting, but it's also igniting every frustrated cell in your body. you can feel the warmth of his skin through his t-shirt, the steady rise and fall of his breathing.
you can smell his shampoo, something clean and woodsy. your fingers start to twitch against his back, itching to tangle in his hair.
this is chris. your chris. your best friend. get a fucking grip.
you try to focus on the movie. you really do. but then he shifts, settling in deeper, and he presses right against your core. a tiny, involuntary gasp escapes your lips. you freeze, hoping he didn't hear.
he didn't seem to. but a few minutes later, he does it again, a subtle roll of his hips as he gets comfortable. it's innocent. it means nothing. but to your desperate body, it does.
you can feel yourself getting wet, a slick warmth spreading between your thighs. you press them together harder, a useless attempt to calm down the ache.
"you okay?" he murmurs, his voice a low rumble against your chest. "you're all tense."
"fine," you squeak. "just… cold."
he hums, a low, skeptical sound.
his hand comes up to cover yours where it's resting on his side.
"your hands are freezing," he says, rubbing his thumb over your fingers.
"told you," you manage, your voice tight.
he chuckles, a soft, breathy sound that vibrates right through you. he brings your intertwined hands up to his mouth, blowing warm air onto your fingers.
it's an act of simple kindness, but his lips are so close to your skin, and all you can think about is them somewhere else.
"better?" he asks, his eyes still closed.
"mhm," you lie. you're burning up.
the movie ends, and the menu screen starts looping, the annoying theme music filling the silence.
neither of you moves to turn it off. the air in the room feels thick, heavy.
then, he shifts again. it's not subtle this time. it's a deliberate, slow roll of his hips against you. and you feel it. the hard, thick line of his cock pressing firmly against you.
your entire body goes rigid. your breath catches in your throat. he's hard. he's hard, and he's pressed against you, and he knows.
"chris?" your voice is barely a whisper.
he doesn't answer. he just does it again, a slower, more deliberate grind. a low groan rumbles in his chest, a sound you feel more than hear.
"you're squirming," he says, his voice thick and husky. "have been all night."
you can't deny it.
"i…"
"shhh," he murmurs, finally turning his head to look at you. his eyes are fucked out already, blown wide and black with it, lashes low and heavy like he's halfway to wrecked just from looking at you. "just… feel it."
his hair's all fucked up from the couch, lips parted and pink, and he looks wrecked and hungry and hard, the line of his jaw tight, and you can see his chest rising and falling like he's barely holding himself back.
he rolls his hips again, a perfect, filthy pressure against your clit. a whimper tears from your throat. it's embarrassing, how responsive you are, how little it takes.
"yeah," he breathes, a triumphant smirk playing on his lips. "that's what i thought."
he lets go of your hand, bringing his up to cup your jaw. his thumb strokes your cheek, his touch gentle. "how long has it been?"
you know what he's asking. your face flames with shame. "too long."
"poor thing," he coos, and it should be condescending, but it just sounds hot. "all wound up with no one to help you."
his knee slides between your legs, pressing right up against your soaked leggings. you gasp, your hips jolting forward involuntarily.
"so eager," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. "tell me what you need. let me help you out, baby..."
you shake your head, burying your face in his neck. you can't say it. admitting it out loud would make it real, would cross the boundary you've been clinging to.
he chuckles, a low, dark sound. "no? okay. i'll guess."
his hand slides down your side, over your hip, and comes to rest on your ass, squeezing the flesh through your leggings. you moan, a broken, needy sound.
"need someone to touch you?" he whispers, his other hand coming up to tangle in your hair, tugging your head towards him gently. "need someone to take care of this tight little pussy?"
you can only nod, your eyes squeezed shut.
"look at me," he commands. you force your eyes open. his gaze is intense, boring into you. "i've been right here this whole time. all you had to do was ask."
he leans in, and for a heart stopping second, you think he's going to kiss you.
but he stops, his lips hovering a breath away from yours.
"beg for it," he whispers. "tell me how much you need it."
something inside you snaps. the frustration, the desperation, the weeks of pent up need.
"please," you choke out, the word ragged. "chris, please. i need it. i need you."
that's all he was waiting for. his mouth is on yours, hungry and demanding.
it's a kiss of starvation, his tongue is in your mouth, claiming you, and you kiss him back with equal desperation, your hands gripping his hair, pulling him closer.
his hand slides from your ass around to the front, pushing between your legs. he groans into your mouth when he feels the wetness seeping through your leggings.
"fuck," he pants, breaking the kiss. "you're soaked. god, you really needed this, didn't you?"
he doesn't wait for an answer, just pushes your leggings down, his fingers finding your slick, swollen folds. you cry out, your hips bucking against his hand as he circles your clit.
"so sensitive," he murmurs, watching your face as he slides a finger inside you. "gonna come just from this? just from my fingers?"
you can't form words, just babble his name as he adds a second finger, curling them just right.
his thumb presses against your clit, rubbing in tight, circles as his fingers pump inside you.
you're grinding down on his hand, shameless in your desperation, chasing the release that's been building for months.
"look at you," he breathes, his voice thick with awe and satisfaction. "so fucking beautiful."
you can feel the orgasm building, your thighs starting to shake. "chris…i'm gonna…"
"no," he says, pulling his hand away completely.
the loss is so sudden, you cry out a wounded, frustrated sound. your eyes fly open, glaring at him. "what the fuck?"
he just smirks, a slow curve of his lips. he brings his glistening fingers to his mouth, his eyes locked on yours as he licks them clean (which was hotter than you wanted to admit). "not yet. you don't get to come that easy."
he shifts, kneeling between your legs, taking off his shirt in one smooth motion.
mouth goes dry at the sight of his chest, the lean muscle dusted with hair that trails down into his sweatpants. he hooks his thumbs into the waistband, pausing.
"you want this?" he asks, palming his hard cock through the fabric. it looks thick, heavy, and your whimper in response.
you nod, eyes wide, transfixed by the movement of his hand.
"use your words," he commands, his voice dropping to that low and rumbly tone. "tell me what you want."
you swallow past the lump in your throat. "i want you to fuck me."
"how?" he presses, dragging his sweatpants down just enough to free himself. your breath hitches. he's bigger than you expected, thick and flushed, curving up towards his stomach. he wraps a hand around it, giving it a slow, lazy stroke. "tell me how you want me to fuck you."
"hard," you whisper, then say it louder, with more conviction. "i want you to fuck me hard."
his eyes flash with desire. "that's my girl."
he leans over you, bracing his hands on either side of your head. he doesn't enter you, just lets the head of his cock drag through your wet folds, bumping against your clit. you whimper, lifting your hips, trying to take him in, but he pulls back, teasing you.
"so impatient," he tuts, but he's smiling. "been thinking about this, haven't you? lying in your bed at night, touching yourself, wanting to be fucked like this?"
"yes," you admit, the word a breathy confession. "god, yes."
he lines himself up then, pressing just the tip inside. you gasp at the stretch. he pauses there, torturing you.
"who gets to make you feel like this?" he asks, his voice a low growl.
"you," you moan, trying to push your hips up and take more of him.
"that's right."
with one smooth, powerful thrust, he buries himself in you. you cry out, your back arching off the couch. it's a painfully good stretch, the feeling of being completely full. he stills for a moment, letting you adjust, his forehead pressed against yours.
"fuck," he groans, his voice broken. "so tight. feels like you were made for me."
then he starts to move. it's exactly what you asked for. hard, deep strokes that make you gasp. the couch is creaking with every snap of his hips.
his hands are gripping your thighs, holding you open as he pounds into you, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.
"this what you needed?" he grunts, his rhythm brutal. "to be fucked like a little slut? is that why you've been so tense?"
you can only moan in response, your hands clutching at his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin. the pleasure is overwhelming.
"chris… please," you beg.
"come on," he pants, his thrusts becoming erratic. "come for me."
he shifts his angle, hitting that spot deep inside you that makes your vision go white.
"that's it, that's it," he groans, fucking you until you're a whimpering, oversensitive mess.
he pulls out suddenly, and you whine at the loss. he flips you over with surprising strength, maneuvering you onto your hands and knees. he grabs your hips, pulling your ass up in the air, and slides back into you from behind.
the new angle is devastating. he's hitting even deeper now, letting out little grunts with every thrust. one of his hands leaves your hip to tangle in your hair, pulling your head back.
"look at me," he commands, his voice rough. you twist, looking back at him over your shoulder. his face is flushed, his eyes dark. "who's fucking you this good?"
"you are," you gasp, his grip on your hair tightening just enough to send a jolt of pleasure-pain down your spine. "you're fucking me so good."
"damn right i am," he grunts, his rhythm faltering. "gonna fill this little pussy up. you want that? want me to come inside you?"
"yes," you sob, pushing back against him, meeting him thrust for thrust. "please, chris. come in me."
with a final, brutal thrust, he buries himself deep and stills. you feel him pulse inside you, a warm flood filling you up as he groans your name, his body shuddering with the force of his release.
he collapses against your back, his weight pinning you to the couch cushions, both of you breathing heavily in the sudden silence. for a long moment, neither of you move.
finally, he presses a soft kiss to your shoulder.
"so," he murmurs, his voice muffled against your skin. "still tense?"
your living room is full of ambiance with only candles lit and lamps on. next to you sits your bestfriend, chris.
infront of you, the tv glows with some random movie chris insisted you watch. and for some reason, it seems you’re much more invested than he is.
“wait- did you get your nails done?” chris says, his voice breaking the comfortable silence.
truth is chris had been looking at you rather than the movie, the entire time. his eyes trailing over your features and the gold necklace splayed across your neck and collarbones. infact, he’d been looking at you so intently he’d even noticed the long, sharp nails at your fingertips. you didn’t usually have them that long… or that sharp.
you turn your head towards him, drawing your gaze from the movie to him. your eyes finally land on his.
“hm?” you hum, having been too caught up in the movie to actively hear whatever he said.
“oh- i just was saying did you get your nails done? they seem a little different.” he restates.he sees the way your eyes lit up.
he noticed your nails the fact you’d switched them up a little. “yeah, i did” you glint, excitedly putting your hands out in front of you, in chris’s direction, so he could see them. his hands hold yours as he looks at the nails. they are really fucking long, and really fucking sharp.
one of his fingers presses against the sharp end of one of your nails. “holy shit” he chuckles, amazed, or slightly shocked by how sharp they are.
“you like ‘em?”
“yeah, they’re really sharp though.”
you both go back to watching the movie- well, rather, you go back to watching the movie. chris however is still watching your hands. he notice the gold rings on your pinky and index finger. leaving your ring finger and middle finger bare. chris is trying so hard to not have pervy thoughts, but come on, the ring placement? leaving those specific two fingers bare?
his thoughts get the best of him, to the extent he’s now thinking of how the fuck you’d be able to touch yourself with those weapon ass nails?
“wait a minute” chris says before he can stop himself.
“hm?” you turn to him once again.
“how do you like-“ he rethinks what he’s about to ask “how do you touch yourself with those nails?”
oh.
you and chris are comfortable around eachother, so it’s not that weird. you just didn’t wanna talk about the fact you can’t finger yourself, since it’s something you were trying to distract yourself from.
“dude, don’t even bring it up.” you say, being overly dramatic with you mannerisms. “i can’t.” you admit. is it sort of embarrassing it’s affecting you so bad? yes, maybe, but ovulation won’t stop for nails.
“you can’t what?” chris says, his mind skipping past not being able to touch yourself, cause who would be able to live that way? “you cant touch yourself?” he confirms.
“yes, chris. i can’t touch myself.” you restate, a faint pink blush now dusting along your cheeks as your gaze instinctively leaves his.
“oh.” chris says, laced with a tone that makes him sound unsure, probably because he’s never had that issue. you see the change in his expression. from something slightly sympathetic, to something mocking and teasing. he chuckles, ofcourse he’s being an asshole. “you can’t touch yourself” he chuckles again. “could never be me.” he says , just rubbing it all in.
“hey, fuck you!” you exclaim getting a little more annoyed by it than you should.
“aw, poor thing.” chris mocks.
the way chris said that affects you in a way it wasn’t intended to. the mocking lilt in his tone was meant to offend you. instead it did the opposite. you blame ovulation.
“shut up” you scoff, staring to chuckle yourself. “i invited you over to distract me from that, not to piss me off.”
something in chris ticks. you wanted him to come over to distract you from the fact you can’t touch yourself. but what if he helped you out instead?
he swallows before speaking. “oh i can help distract you.” he says with a pervy fucking smirk on his face. you know what he’s insinuating, and so does he.
“very funny.” you say narrowing your gaze with a tilt of your head. but chris’s smirk doesn’t falter. doesn’t waver at all. he’s serious, isn’t he.
“oh absolutely fucking not.”
———
chris’s fingers circle your clit in a teasingly slow manner, drawing soft whines from your mouth.
how did you let this happen? fuck knows.
“chris- fuck, please” you rasp, breathless and pent up.
“please, what?” chris responds with the smuggest look on his face, as he looks down at you beneath him.
“dont tease..” you manage to mumble incoherently.
“what was that pretty girl? use your words f’me.” he says, knowing exactly what you meant. he purposely slows down the rate at which his digits circle your clit just to see you squirm.
“stop teasing me” you stutter. god, you are confused and conflicted at the fact chris of all people is making you whine and stutter.
“mmm…” chris hums like he’s evaluating whether he should listen to you or not. “say please.” he grins, knowing he’s got you cornered.
his fingers come to a full stop, yey still press firmly on your now throbbing cunt.
“i’m not gonna-“ you start, but the fight in you has officially left. “please” you rasp.
“see, was that so hard?” chris teases just to piss you off.
his fingers pick up where they left off, now doubling down on the effort. he slides two fingers into your soaked entrance. he chuckles, with an amused and cocky lilt. “so fuckin’ wet, you get this wet for other people or am i special?” he teases.
“fuck off-“ you start, before you’re cut off by the feeling of chris’s fingers curling just right, as they thrust in and out of your sopping cunt at a sickening pace.
as he pulls moans from your lips he can’t help but look down at you with a smug grin. chris had forever tried making moves on you and you’d managed to turn them all down. but he knew he’d get there eventually, even under specific reasoning.
he changes the angle of his hand so his thumb can brush small, tight circles over your clit; the double stimulation unravels you.
that’s when chris realises he’ll be addicted to watching you unravel and moan under his touch for a long, long time.
a low heat in your belly grows at a rapid pace, it immediately has you in a trance, your eyes fluttering as you whine his name over n over and the coil low in your stomach tightens.
“shit- chris, m’gonna cum” you whine, and to chris that is the most pretty sound he’s ever heard.
“yeah, baby? cum all over my fingers sweet girl.” he coos, and that sweet tone is just enough to push you over the edge.
your orgasm crashes over you just as he says that, your pussy clenching around his fingers. for a second he admires you, so raw and vulnerable. your back arching as your eyebrow knit in pleasure. so pretty, so vulnerable.
“holy fuck..” you rasp as you feel his fingers leave you empty. he maintains eyecontact with you as he brings his glistening fingers to his lips and licks them clean, tasting you. your heart palpitates at the sight.
“helpful?” chris grins.
a/n ⟢ ok so this is my first fic, kinda nervy so pls lmk if you enjoyed! also lmk if you’d wanna see more of bsf!chris and bsf!reader
⚠︎- smut. bsf!matt. bsf!reader. masturbation w panties (m). panties used as gag. swearing.
wc: 1k
ding
matt glanced down at his phone, seeing oliver’s name flash across the screen.
“yo, we’re all going out later. you coming?”
matt stared at the text for a second before a small smile crossed his face.
yeah, probably. what time?
he tossed his phone beside him after hitting send and sat up with a groan, rubbing his hands over his face. if he was actually going out, he needed something decent to wear. he swung his legs off the bed and walked over to his closet, pushing hangers around carelessly. hoodies, sweatpants, random t-shirts— none of it looked good enough to wear out.
“seriously?” he muttered.
he bent down, digging through the pile of clothes near the floor, only to find more laundry he forgot to wash days ago. letting out an annoyed sigh, he shut the closet door harder than he meant to. his room was quiet except for the soft buzz of his phone going off again.
oliver: around 6. don’t bail this time either.
matt rolled his eyes, typing back a quick shut up before locking his phone again. he glanced down at the worn out shirt he’d been wearing all day and sighed. there was no way he was going out looking like that.
with another sigh, he grabbed his dirty laundry and stepped out of his room, into the hallway. the washer and dryer sat only a few steps away, right across from his bedroom door. as he walked towards the small laundry area, he noticed you curled up on the couch, barely paying attention to the movie playing quietly on the tv. one of the blankets from his room was thrown over your legs, and your phone rested loosely in hand while you scrolled mindlessly.
you had stayed the night after getting way too drunk at some random party the night before, but honestly, nobody expected you to leave anyway. you are practically the triplets’ sister at this point— always somewhere in the house, stealing hoodies, raiding the kitchen at two in the morning, and showing up whenever she felt like it. the place felt weirdly empty whenever she wasn’t there.
but the worst part? matt has been crazy about you ever since he layed eyes on you. he kept it a secret though— knowing that his brothers would tease him constantly if they knew and he felt as if it would put it into a higher risk of you knowing— scared that you wouldn’t feel the same way.
“you’re still awake?” matt asked casually.
you glanced up for a second and shrugged. “couldn’t sleep.”
matt hummed softly before continuing to focus his attention on the fact that he didn’t have any clothes for tonight. the light on the washer was already on from when he started a load earlier. he shoved the damp clothes from the washer into the dryer, shutting the door with a loud thud before leaning down to dig through the basket of his dirty clothes sitting on top of the machine.
most of it was normal— hoodies, sweatpants, t-shirts. matt pulled out a dark hoodie, checking the size before tossing it over his shoulder. then his hand brushed against something smaller—soft fabric tangled beneath the rest of the clothes at the bottom of the pile.
he frowned slightly, pulling the fabric free from the pile. it was delicate—white lace with thin straps, a small little bow decorating the front. a thong. his face warmed almost instantly as realization hit, eyes darting toward the living room where you were still curled up on the couch like nothing had happened.
you’d thrown it in with the rest of the laundry after the party when you went to shower, changing into some of matt’s clothes afterward. considering how drunk you’d been that night, you probably hadn’t even realized it got mixed in.
he quickly shoved it into his back pocket before a second thought. his pulse spiked as he quickly shoved his load of dirty clothes into the washer and slowly shifted back into his room.
walking in, he quietly locked his door and tossed himself onto the soft mattress. he carefully pulled the panties out of his pocket and tossed them beside him as his hands fumbled down— shoving his jeans along with boxers down to his knees.
he took the panties into his palm and wrapped it around himself— softly moaning as the fabric grazed his aching tip. he didn’t waste any time, moving his wrist up and down faster each time.
imagining it was you instead of the panties, his strokes started moving at a uncoordinated and desperate pace— fighting hard not to moan out loud and being caught by you in the room over.
his hips started jerking up into his fist, squeezing tighter as he reached his sore tip each time.
his imagination went wild. your hands, mouth, you on top of him, under him, all of the above. he couldn’t keep his whimpers in no matter how hard he tried.
knowing that he was approaching his orgasm and his noises were only going to get louder— he brought the panties up to his mouth in an attempt to muffle his sounds. he moaned your name into them, chasing his release. hips bucking up into his fist and coming all over his stomach.
his head fell back against the headboard, breathing heavily— trying to catch his breath with your panties still shoved in his mouth.
he takes the delicate fabric out and brings it down, cleaning up the mess he made.
he quickly shoved the fabric into his jeans before standing up, silently hoping you hadn’t heard anything through the paper-thin walls of his room.
the second he stepped into the kitchen, his eyes met yours from the couch— but only for a second before he looked away just as fast. he walked over to the fridge, grabbing a cold can of pepsi while trying to ignore how warm his face still felt.
then he heard your voice behind him.
“hm?” he asked, turning slightly.
“you okay?” you repeated softly.
“yeah, i’m fine. why?”
you shrugged a little. “no reason. you just seem nervous or something.”
he shut the fridge door a little too hard, muttering a quiet “fuck” under his breath as his thoughts replayed everything from a few minutes earlier.
matt thought he’d hidden it well enough.
what he didn’t realize, though, was that you’d already noticed the familiar lace peeking out from his back pocket.
after tossing and turning for what felt like hours on end, you angrily roll over to lay on your back and huff softly. you stare at the ceiling for a few minutes as you listen to chris’ small snores beside you. you’re jealous of how easily he fell asleep.
you check your phone and the time reads 4:37AM. lovely…
defeated, you eventually peel the blankets off your legs and quietly get out of bed. you look back to chris, making sure he’s still asleep, before making your way out of his room and into the dark hallway.
the door squeaks slightly as you shut it, making you cringe. the house is completely silent other than the faint distant sound of a tv playing quietly. maybe someone forgot to turn off the living room tv? usually by this time at night you could hear a pen drop all the way up in nicks room.
you climb the stairs to the kitchen with a plan of getting a bottle of water, making sure the tv is turned off, and going back to bed. the plans change when you turn the corner and see a mess of hair peaking over the edge of the couch and the tv playing Gravity Falls.
“…matt?” your confused voice sounds out softly causing him to jump. matt’s head pops and spins around to look at you.
“jesus! you scared the shit outta me…” matt exclaims in a whispered tone. you quickly grab a bottle of water and shuffle over to the living room. “what are you doing up?”
“i was just about to ask you the same thing.” you ask as you plop down on the couch next to him. matt shifts slightly, readjusting the thin blanket that’s draped over his legs.
he gives a small shrug and a gentle sigh. just by looking at him, you can tell he’s exhausted. there’s a tinge of stress etched across his that you assume was caused by the lack of sleep. “dunno… i just couldn’t sleep and didn’t want to be in my room if i wasn’t sleeping, ya know?”
“yeah, i guess we’re in the same boat with that one.” you nod along. you take a sip of water and feel a small drop trail down your chin, disappearing into your cropped, off-the-shoulder sleep shirt. matts eyes discreetly follow the drop, practically salivating over the image.
you quickly grab the collar of your shirt and use it to whip your chin. matt clears his throat and shifts once again, already feeling himself get worked up over you.
“chris asleep?” he wonders out loud. you nod with a slight scoff. “of course, that kid passes out the second his head hits the pillow. i’ve never understood how he does it.”
“i know! but i am a little convinced he was faking it at first… i had asked him to massage my shoulders. i think he was just trying to get out of that.” you chuckle, bringing a hand up to shoulder to slightly soothe the ache.
“what’s wrong with your shoulders?” matt asked. he watched carefully as your eyes closed and your face contorted in discomfort.
you shake your head. “i helped my friend move the other day and i’ve been sore ever since. it’s no big deal, though.” you explain and finally drop your hand back to your lap. you look at matt and he almost looks like he’s studying you; your body language.
“well i - um - i mean…” his voice trails off as he tries to get his words together. your brows furrow in anticipation. “i could rub your- massage your shoulders. i know how chris is, so i don’t think he’ll be giving you a massage anytime soon.”
matt’s words flow out so quickly that it takes you a minute to register what he’s just offered. you’re slightly shocked, but also… not?
“are you sure? i could just go get a massage tomorrow or-“
“yeah, but it might help you go to sleep.” matt interrupts, sounding a little more eager than he wanted to. he clears his throat and moves a bit closer to you. “i don’t mind, really.”
you hesitate. it shouldn’t be a big deal, but it’s matt. the guy you've caught staring at you more times than you can count. the guy who will make phony excuses to hang around you more. the guy who has to excuse himself rather abruptly any time he sees you in a bikini. your boyfriends brother.
he’s made it quite clear that he feels some sort of attraction towards you, but, of course, you never thought he’d act on it. he could never do that to his brother, right?
“um… okay.” you finally answer. something flashes behind matt’s eyes as you reposition yourself on the couch. with your back now turned to him, matt moves even closer. you can feel his warmth against your back as he gently places his hands on your bare shoulders.
“try to relax. you’re super tense right now.” he says softly. you take a deep, shaky breath and feel your shoulders drop. “there you go…”
matt carefully moves his hands over your skin, expertly working on the knots that you’ve collected. his fingers glide down along your shoulder blades and continue working out the built up tension.
you let out a deep sigh, a slight whimper mixed with it. “do you have a secret side gig as a masseuse or something?”
matt chuckles and moves his hands back up towards your neck. “sorry, i can’t reveal my secrets. that would kinda ruin the whole mysterious vibe i’m going for.”
“right. so mysterious.” you laugh and close your eyes, fully relaxing into matt’s touch.
“what? ya don’t think i’m cool and mysterious?” matt asks sarcastically. his hands travel down and quickly part ways, moving down your sides. a shiver runs down your spine and you suddenly feel his breath against your ear.
your eyes stay shut as his hands roam your sides and your lower back. apart from the occasional sweep over your shoulders, the main purpose of this massage has been abandoned.
he rests his head on your shoulder and lets out a shaky breath. “this still okay?” he asks quietly.
it shouldn’t be. his hands occasionally moving too close to certain areas; that shouldn’t be okay. before you can think about it for too long, you nod and let out a satisfied hum.
you feel one hand halt on your waist while the other creeps around to the front, grazing over your stomach.
“matt…” you breathe out. neither of you can tell if it’s meant to be a warning or an encouragement. he decides to test his luck as his fingertips push past the waistband of your pajama shorts.
he rests his chin on top of your shoulder and his lips brush against your ear. “chris always gets so lucky… kid gets everything he wants-“ he presses 2 fingers down over your panties, applying slight pressure to your clit “-and everything i want.”
you gasp and let your head fall back against him.
“ya know, sometimes i can hear you in his room. i hear those pretty little moans, the little gasps, your whimpering and begging.” matt describes as he rubs slow, tight circles on your clothed clit. your hands begin to search for a surface to grasp. “all i can think about is making you sound like that. watching you squirm around… kinda like what you’re doing right now.” he chuckles.
“i can’t, matt-“
“then why are you?” he interrupts once more. “tell me to stop and i’ll stop.”
his fingers slip over and pull your panties to the side. slowly, he drags his middle finger through your arousal. matt let’s out a low groan and kisses softly behind your ear.
“i know… i know that you already knew how i felt. i’m not hiding a thing and, honestly, neither are you.” matt explains as he dips his long, slender finger into you. you reach out, one hand gripping his forearm and the other holding on to the back of the couch.
“wh-what- fuck!” you attempt to question him. you can feel him smirking against your neck before he nips at the sensitive skin.
“your little shorts, tight shirts, grabbing my leg when you laugh at my stupid little jokes. those drunk kisses on the cheek.” matt explains. “and lastly, accepting a massage from me.”
“matt, please…” you start, “i need you… please.”
you’re begging. it’s what matt’s been dreaming of and has waited so long to hear. he adds another finger and starts pumping them into you harder and faster. his cock is painfully hard and he can feel it leaking more and more, forming a wet spot on the front of his shorts.
“f-fuck!” you quietly exclaim as your toes curl from the pleasure. the pressure is quickly building; his words, his fingers. it's so wrong and you could get caught; that’s only adding to the sensation.
your guilt is pushed to the back of your mind as matt’s other hand reaches around and slips under your shirt. he quickly finds your breasts. he pinches and slightly pulls at your nipple, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
“babe?” chris’ voice carries out from downstairs and pulls you back to reality. matt swiftly removes his hands from your body and moves back to the original position you found him in.
you try to steady your breath as you reposition yourself on the couch. chris’ footsteps get louder as he moves up the stairs. you look over to matt to see him already staring. he slowly raises his hand to his face and cleans your arousal off his fingers with his tongue, moaning softly.
“hey, what are you guys doing up?” chris asks as he gets closer to the couch. he eyes matt up and down before looking back to you with soft eyes. “you okay?” he asks, moving a strand of hair out of your face.
“yeah, couldn’t sleep. i was getting some water then just…” you look to matt who is still sporting an arrogant smirk. “talking for a sec. i was about to head back to bed.” you explain as you turn back to chris and give him a soft smile.
“go lay down, babe. i’ll be down in a minute.” chris says sweetly. you’re quick to move to the stairs and shuffle back to chris’ room, still in shock.
as soon as chris hears his bedroom door close, he looks back to matt with a stern look.
“stop being so weird around her, ya fucking perv.” chris warns, stepping closer to matt with his hands clenched by his sides.
“trust me, chris, she doesn’t mind one bit.” matt shoots back while readjusting himself in his shorts. chris scoffs and rolls eyes. matt turns off the tv and stands up, now face to face with chris. “oh, and you don’t have massage her shoulders anymore. i rubbed her down for you.”
on that finale note, matt strolls off to his bedroom to take care of himself and chris remains in the living room for a moment. he slowly walks back downstairs to his room, deciding to postpone the conversation until a later date.
warnings ! smut, squirting, pet names, bigdick!matt, sough rex, new relationship, unprotected sex (don’t do that pls)
now that you and your new boyfriend, matt, have “done it” a couple times, you were used to it all. like how gentle he normally is with it. not today, though. not after he came home angry from something that happened at work.
now, he was gripping your hair so hard it would 100% make your scalp sore later, throwing your head back and forth over his dick while his tip slammed into the back of your throat until it hurt. you’d never seen him like this; not that you didn’t like it.
all of the sudden, he stops. “get on the bed.” you listen immediately, getting up off your knees shakily and hopping onto the bed. he puts his hand over your mouth to muffle the cry you let out as he slides halfway into you. “take it — fuck.”
you’re a mess. a sweaty, moaning, shaking mess. only half of matt’s dick is inside of you and you already feel full. pulling back, matt thrusts forward as far as he can until he meets resistance. you dig your nails into matts shoulders, your back arching and your head thrown back. “oh my god.”
“you feel so fucking good sweetheart.” matts size fills you all the way up with every thrust, both of you panting hard.
“matthew — god”
“shit, say that again” matt heaves his words out, panting for air.
“matthew?”
he nods throwing his head back, pulling his hand down to rub circles around your clit in hopes you two would finish at the same time. but a newfound feeling circles your stomach. a big bubble builds up that makes your back arch as matt finishes along with you and lets his thrusts slow down. but it’s weird—you just finished and the bubble in your stomach is still there.
a loud moan rips out of you. clear liquid flying out as the feeling clears. matt looks down confused as he gets covered.
“did you just—squirt?”
you can only imagine what matt will do now.
a/n: hope you liked it! ty for 500 followers wowie.
idk if anyone has said this before but when matt eats you out he’s not doing it for you. hate to say it. that man eats pussy for his own self satisfaction. he’s down there making out with your cunt for hoursss. he’ll wake you up with it, mumbling, “my fav’rite breakf’st,” into your thigh before going back down. he’s sucking on your clit like a fucking pacifier. purely because he needs it.
Summary: In which you go on a camping trip with your best friends Matt and Chris. Instead you get "BroSexy" by the time the night ends.
CW: 🔞Explicit Sexual Content (Smut): MFM (don’t make it weird, the boys don’t sexually interact), Protected sex, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, edging (light), spit kink (minimal), dom/sub dynamic, praise kink, hair pulling (light), spanking, consensual degrading language, if I missed anything please let me know, If you are under 18, I am not responsible for the media you consume. (MDNI)
The trip was Matt’s idea—claiming we all needed a break from the noise and crowd of LA. So here we are, the car finally rolls to a stop in a secluded campsite. You step out, the cool air immediately giving you goosebumps, carrying the fresh scent of pine and earth. Chris stretches and lets out an exaggerated groan, his breath slightly visible in the air, while Matt grins at you, excitement and nerves shimmering in his eyes.
Chris insists on tackling the tent, tangling himself in the poles and drawing laughter from all three of you. "You promise you read the instructions?" Matt teases, tossing you a sweater. The fabric is warm and smells faintly of detergent and him. It brings a small smile to your face.
As the day turns to night, you start to gather sticks for the fire, the sharp snap of dry branches echoing in the quiet. You hear an owl hooting, just a reminder of the nature around you. The world is far away now, no cars racing down the road, no obnoxious parties, just the sound of the trees blowing in the breeze and your two best friends bickering. You catch yourself watching them when they aren't looking, half amused as you watch the brothers argue, the other half something deeper you don’t know how to name.
Finally, Matt gets the fire to light, the crackling of the flames filling the quiet around you. Chris tosses another stick onto the flames, sending sparks swirling into the night sky, and Matt hands you a mug of cocoa, his fingers lingering on yours. Every touch seems intentional.
The evening fills with laughter and stories—each tale mixed with inside jokes, teasing, and the easy comfort that only comes with true friendship. Chris leans back, his eyes reflecting the firelight, and grins at your joke, while Matt nudges your knee under the blanket that you two are sharing, his touch sending a spark that you feel all the way to your toes. There were many “accidental” touches.
Eventually, the conversation lulls, leaving you all just in the quiet of the camp. Chris fidgets with a stick, his usually bright energy dialed down. When he finally speaks, his voice is soft. “You know, I didn’t expect this trip to feel…different. Like, really different.”
Matt glances at Chris, then at you, the firelight flickering over his suddenly serious face. “Yeah. I was thinking the same thing. It’s always fun hanging with you, [Y/N], but lately, I keep thinking about—well, more than just friendship.” His voice is quiet, but the weight of his words is heavy and hopeful between you.
Chris laughs, but the sound is nervous, his fingers running anxiously through his hair. “Honestly? I kept telling myself it’s just the vibes, but who am I kidding? I like you. A lot.” His gaze at you was searching, scared, and hopeful all at once.
Matt nods, his gaze locking with yours, eyes shining with something you can’t quite place. “Me too. More than I probably should. I think about it all the time.”
The air turns to something hot, breath catching in your throat as the moment hangs between you. Chris’s hand finds yours, his touch warm and a little shaky. “I get if it’s weird, but…if you feel anything like we do—maybe we could see where this goes?”
Matt squeezes your other hand gently, his thumb tracing slow circles on your skin. “Yeah. We just want to know how you feel. We want you to feel safe, above all.”
You look between them, heart pounding, a thousand thoughts spinning in your mind. You swallow, feeling your cheeks flush, realizing this night could change everything.
You nod slowly and grab both of their hands. “I want to try this.”
They both smile, stand up, and pull you with them. Gently guiding you to the tent. Matt’s hand on your lower back, Chris holding your hand softly. Chris opens the tent and leads you inside.
Once inside, Matt spins you around and kisses you. You gasp as you feel his tongue tangle with yours. It’s soft, gentle, but hungry. As you’re kissing Matt, Chris has focused his attention on your neck, leaving soft kisses there and nipping at the skin. You know there will be marks littering your neck come the morning.
“Tell us, we want to know what you want. Be good and beg. Say it out loud.” Chris whispers into your ear as he gently bites it.
You pull away from Matt, and he whines as he tries to chase your mouth before looking at you.
“Please. I want this. Want you. Both.” You gasp.
Chris nods, searching your eyes for permission. "Are you sure?" he whispers, voice trembling. When you nod, he helps you out of your clothes slowly, his hands gentle and warm. He stands, takes off his shirt and pants. His cock was already hard and leaking. You moan at the sight.
“Alright, here’s how we are doing this. I’m going to lie down, and [Y/N] you’re going to ride my face. While that is happening, you’ll be giving Chris the best damn blowjob of his life. Got it?” Matt commands, his dominant side finally showing. You nod eagerly.
Matt takes off his shirt and tosses it aside, then lies down and gently guides you toward him. He helps you kneel over his face, hands steady. "You're already so soaked," he whispers, fingers tracing your thighs. “Tell me who made you this wet baby?” His touch is slow as his fingers slide through your slick folds, checking your reaction, making sure you're comfortable before going further.
You let out a moan as you gently grab Chris’ cock. Stroking it softly as you make eye contact with him. His eyes are dark and hungry. Chris groans, “Matt needs an answer, ma. Tell him. Who made your pussy that wet?”
“Y-you both did. Fuck.” Your hips rock gently with Matt’s fingers. He slowly slides two fingers into you, your walls clenching around him. “Oh god. Matt.”
He moans as he starts moving them at a slow rhythm, slick sounds filling the tent. “God, so fucking wet. And this is all for us.” He pulls his fingers out and holds them up. “Suck.” He commands. “Taste yourself for me.”
You bring your mouth to his fingers and suck them gently, your eyes locked with Matt's for reassurance. Chris groans, his hand in your hair, as he thrusts his cock into your hand gently, chasing the friction.
“Ok fuck this. I need her mouth on me.” Chris groans as he grabs your hair and pulls you towards his cock, Matt’s fingers slowly slipping from your mouth.
Before you can process much, Chris guides his cock into your mouth. At the same time, Matt grabs your hips and pulls you down onto his face. You moan around Chris, and you feel Matt smile against you.
Chris’ length fills your mouth, and you start to lick and suck him in a slow motion. Your tongue glides from the base all the way to the tip, swirling around his head for extra pleasure. The sensation of Matt’s tongue gliding through your wet folds, lapping up every drop, sends shivers through your body. The warmth of their skin, the roughness of Chris’s thigh beneath your hand, the scent of campfire smoke and sweat— it all blends into something that you wish you could bottle up forever.
Matt takes his time, really focusing on eating you out, occasionally dipping his tongue deep inside you. Every time he does that, you moan and grind against his face. He nips at your thighs when he has to catch his breath.
You pull back on Chris’ cock and focus just on the head, sucking and licking it, letting your spit roll down his shaft, making it really wet. Deep moans are coming out of his mouth as he stares down at you. “Such a good slut taking me while Matt takes you. Feels good, doesn’t it, baby?” You look up at him, a small whimper falling from your lips.
Matt suddenly sucks on your clit, and a loud moan falls out of your mouth. Chris laughs lightly and grabs your hair. “Can I?” You nod. He holds your head in place as he starts to fuck your face. Every once in a while, his cock hits the back of your throat. Spit is really starting to come out of the side of your mouth now. Tears falling down your face too, making your mascara run. You look destroyed. “Such a good girl. Taking all of me. Fuck, feels so good.” Chris moans as he speeds up.
Before Chris even has a chance to really get close to an orgasm you pull away for a moment. Soft whimpers leave his mouth, “fuck ma, you are being unfair.” But then he notices what’s happening, and he smirks.
Matt’s grip on your thighs tighten as he pulls you closer. The sound of his tongue sucking and licking your wetness, mingling with your moans and the distant crackle of the dying fire, makes you almost completely lose it right there. “Matt, I’m close—I’m gonna cum,” you gasp, overwhelmed by sensation.
Before you can cum, Matt stops. “Fuck, not yet, baby, I don’t know about Chris, but I’m not done with you just yet.” He gently lifts you off his face, he sits up, and pulls you into a filthy kiss. You can taste yourself on him, turning you on even more.
“I say we fill her from both sides. Don’t you think?” Chris suggests as he is lightly stroking himself, staring at you up and down. “Would you like that baby? Us filling you together?”
You go wide-eyed and nod slowly. Matt helps you up, gently brushing your hair back. "Remember, if you need to stop, just say so. We take care of each other," he says, voice low and sincere. You smile, kissing him softly, feeling safe in the moment.
“Got it. Where do you want me?” You whisper softly.
Matt helps you stand up; he’s calm and steady. Chris comes over, pressing a kiss to your lips, tongue tangling with yours just for a fleeting second, his eyes searching yours. "Just say the word if you want to stop. We won't hurt you, ever."
You blush at the sweet words before looking around. “Tell me where to go. I want this. No, I need this.”
Matt gently grabs you and bends you over at the waist. “Fuck, look at her pussy. It’s drenched. Who gets her like this?” He looks at Chris, who is hyper-focused on your wet cunt. His eyes filled with hunger.
“Rock, Paper, Scissors for it?” Chris asks slowly, for once, confused about how this process plays out.
You try to hide a smile. Leave it to him to offer that as a solution. You watch as Matt nods.
The boys quickly play the game. Chris ends up winning. He walks over and smacks your ass. You let out a moan. “God, I can’t believe I’m this lucky. I can’t wait to feel you stretch around me.” He quickly grabs a condom from his backpack, ripping the package open and sliding it onto his length.
“You ready, baby?” Chris asks softly. You nod, and he slowly brings his tip to your entrance. He glides it up and down, just teasing you. Watching as you get wetter and wetter. You moan and look behind you, “Stop being a tease.”
Chris laughs lightly and slips just the tip inside you. He stays like that for a moment, just gently gliding the tip in and out of you. “Oh fuck me, such a good girl.”
Matt gently brushes your hair back, “Look at me, sweetheart, let me see those pretty eyes.”
You look at him, your hair a mess, mascara running down your face, eyes completely destroyed and blissed out. You give a small smile.
Matt groans, “Does it feel good when he’s teasing your pussy like that? Want me to fill your mouth with something and really make it feel good? Think you can be obedient and take more?”
You nod fast, afraid that if you don’t, the moment will pass. Matt smirks and bends down to your level, gives you a quick kiss, and then says, “First, I need you to be a good girl. Open your mouth.” You follow without complaints.
Matt stares for a moment, tracing your bottom lip with his thumb. Finally, he lifts your head and his spit it on your tongue. “Swallow. Show us how dirty you really are.” You moan and swallow. Chris groans as he watches, then he smacks your ass hard. “Shit, such a dirty little slut for us aren’t you?”
Chris spits onto your ass, watching it slide down before it finally reaches where his cock is buried into your pussy. He groans, and spits again. This time before it goes anywhere, his hand connects with it on your ass cheek, a loud wet sound filling the tent.
You jolt and let out a loud moan. “Y-yes. Fuck. Chris, please, I need more. Matt, I need you in my mouth.”
They both look at each other and smile, “Hear that? She’s begging. I think she might be ready for more.” Matt states simply. Matt quickly takes his pants off, his cock on display, leaking just enough at the tip to make you moan at the sight.
Chris smacks your ass again, then rubs it. He spreads you apart with his hands. “God. I can’t believe this is what I’m getting.” He slowly slides all the way in, every thick inch of him stretching you out. You can feel him buried to the hilt, and it’s pure satisfaction. His thick cock twitches inside you as he moans. “Fuck ma, so fucking good. So wet. Sucking my cock in just like I knew it would. Fuck.”
He starts with a slow pace, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in. His hand is gripping your ass, leaving marks behind that will surely bruise. You look at Matt, and he’s just stroking himself and watching you take everything. “Fuck, [Y/N], you’re taking him so well. Are you ready for your mouth to be filled?”
You smile, almost wickedly. Matt whimpers at the look. “Fuck I need it now.” He tilts your chin up and commands, “Open. Be a good fucking girl.” You open your mouth.
Matt slides his cock into your mouth, his eyes darkening at the sight. “Holy f- Jesus. That’s it, take it all, baby. God, what a sight.”
Your hands go to his thighs, as you feel him slide inch by inch into your mouth. At the same time, Chris groans as he watches you take him into your mouth, his pace still steady. Wet slapping sounds fill the tent as skin meets skin. “Her mouth is absolutely sinful, isn’t it?”
Matt nods, throwing his head back from the sensation. You moan, and both boys feel it. Your vibration is going through Matt’s cock, and the moan caused you to clench tight around Chris’s. “Fuck ma, I don’t know what just happened, but that was fucking good.” Chris moves slightly faster.
Matt starts to thrust deeper, his hand tangling into your hair. You are letting out choked sounds as he goes as far back as he can. He looks down and gives a devilish smile. “That’s right, fucking choking on cock like a good little pet. Aren’t you?” You look up at him, tears going down your face from choking. He wipes one away. “Need me to stop?”
You grab the back of his thighs and hold on tight, indicating that it’s a no. He laughs and keeps fucking your face.
Chris smacks your ass again and grabs it. “Doing so fucking well. Taking us both, letting me fuck the shit out of you. Pussy so fucking greedy, gripping around me.”
You look up at Matt, pupils dilated. “You close? Gonna cum all over Chris? Hm?”
Chris groans, his pace becoming slightly messy, his grip becoming rough. “Yeah, she’s close. So fucking wet. I need you to be a good girl and cum all over my cock. Can you do that, baby? Cum on my cock?"
Matt starts moving faster, “Tighten your lips, really suck, baby. Bring me to the edge. Please.”
You do as he said, and he lets out a low moan in pleasure from it. “Good fucking girl.”
Chris whimpers. “F-fuck, she’s going to make me cum. I’m close. Shit.”
Matt pulls out. “Beg. Fucking beg for us to ruin you. If you want to cum, be a good slut and beg.”
“P-please. I’m good. I want this. Please cum, please let me cum. Fuck.” You whimper.
Chris keeps fucking you, making sure he buries himself deep every single time. “Love how pathetic you sound, ma. Want our cum that bad, huh?”
Matt slides his cock back into your mouth and moans. “Fuck, we do it together. All of us. Want that sweetheart? His cum filling you as mine slides down your throat?”
You nod and keep still as Matt fucks your mouth, trailing your tongue along his shaft as he moves it in and out of your mouth.
Before you know it, all of it breaks loose. Matt lets out a loud moan, “Fuck. C-cumming. Swallow it. All of it.” You feel him fill your mouth; it’s warm and salty, and you swallow it as it gets released into your mouth. As you are doing so, Matt is watching you in awe and gently brushing your cheek.
At the same time, you clench hard around Chris and cum, your body shaking as a wave of pleasure rushes through you. Little whimpers escape you, muffled by Matt in your mouth, and your mind goes blank. For a moment, there is nothing but the heat of their bodies, the rush of your release, and Chris still thrusting into you.
Chris’ hips stutter and still, “Shit. Cumming- I’m cumming.” His cum fills the condom as you close your eyes. Overwhelmed by the feeling.
The three of you are left panting, bodies tangled together and laughter bubbling up from what just happened. Matt gently pulls away and helps you find a sweater and your underwear, his touch soft and caring as he puts your underwear on for you. Chris disposes of the condom, then helps you put the sweater on, his hands lingering for a moment in a silent gesture of affection. Both boys press soft kisses to your cheeks, their faces flushed with happiness and love.
Once everyone is dressed, Chris and Matt share a look—shy, but overflowing with affection, and slight embarrassment. Their cheeks are flushed, and their eyes shine with post-sex emotions. The night air is cool against your skin, but your heart is impossibly warm.
“Uh, so, was that okay? Like we weren’t too much right?” Chris whispers softly.
“Yeah. [Y/N], was that alright? We don’t want you to think we don’t care about you.” Matt comes up, but stops short and waits for an answer before even trying to touch you.
You look between them, you want to laugh because you have no idea how to even process what just happened. But your heart is swelling with how gentle and considerate they are being right now.
“I think it was fine. It was different, but when have we ever done things the normal way? I definitely think I’d be down to do it again.” You say, looking between them.
They look at each other, smile, and then high-five one another. “Oh fuck yeah! See, Matt, I told you she was a freak and wouldn’t say no to BroSexy.”
Matt groans but smiles, “Chris, I have told you a million times. BroSexy is only for games. Please do not call us that in this case.”
You giggle and go and hug them both. “I love you two. Fucking weirdos. Let’s go to bed….. BroSexy.”
They just laugh, and you three somehow combine all the sleeping bags to make one giant bed, and you lie in the middle between them. A big smile on all of your faces.
As you drift off to sleep—Chris’s arm slung over your waist, Matt’s head resting on your shoulder—the soft sounds of the campsite calm you. You know you’re exactly where you’re meant to be. Safe, cherished, and loved, you let the gentle rise and fall of their breathing carry you into the best sleep of your life. Best camping trip ever, hands down.
M yaps: I have no idea anymore. The words I just vomited. If you made it to the end then a gold star for you.
➵ thinking about chris putting a bluetooth vibrator in you before you two go out with his friends + matt, except he gives them all access to it through an app
➵ warnings > this is my first time writing anything on tumblr so bare with me! this is smut obvi, sex toy use, pre-discussed free use, reader is never touched by chris’ friends but they obvi are involved here, reader does use her safe word but it’s not super urgently and everything stops immediately
“aight tell me again,” chris mumbles around the toothpick in his mouth. his hands brush against your thighs as he pulls your panties up your legs, standing up from his position kneeling to stand in front of you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he not-so-discreetly pulls your mini skirt down in an attempt to make it look longer than it is.
you sighed, hands coming up to wrap around his torso as you tucked your face in his shoulder. “chris,” you whined, “i’ve repeated it three times already, we’re good.” the brunette huffs in response, clearly not as amused by this as you are. “i have no problem making you say it three more. this is important ma, wanna make sure you all good.”
you sighed again, but repeated the words anyway, knowing it would make him feel better.
“everyone has access to the vibrator, but you can revoke anyone’s privileges if need be by kicking them out the group. everyone knows the color system and they should all routinely check in. my safe word is sunny, i can say it to anyone at any given point and the whole scene will immediately stop. this starts when we go in the restaurant and ends when we leave.”
chris nodded silently, pleased, before letting the toothpick fall to the floor and leaning down to gently kiss you, as one of his hands drifts off your waist. his palm cups your heat, consequently pushing the plug deeper. you whine, pulling back from the kiss.
“don’t start teasing, christopher.”
the corner of his mouth curls up in a smirk, his canine just barely peaking out. he goes to lean in again, his free hand moving to join the one between your legs, when his phone buzzes on the bed. the two of you glance over in sync, seeing a text from nate. we outside. she still good with this?
he hums, mumbling, “saved by the bell,” as he steps back, scooping his phone off the blanket and giving you a second to straighten yourself out.
“chris!”
matt’s voice echos up the stairs, clearly irritated that you two aren’t downstairs ready to leave yet. you can faintly hear the jingle of his keys as he throws them around, evidently having been waiting for a bit.
“yeah, yeah,” chris replies, “we’re coming.”
as self assured as you felt about tonight, you felt your blood run cold as matt parked outside the restaurant. nate in his car with two more of chris’ friends parking right beside you. you nervously stared out the window at the entrance of the building, feeling matt and chris looking at you.
“hey,” matt spoke first, his hand reaching back to rest on your knee, “y’alright? you can still back out if you want. this can be a normal dinner.”
chris piped up beside him, as you turned to look at the two confident men in front of you, “yeah, mama, no one will be mad if you’ve changed your mind.”
you hesitated, considering your options, before firmly nodding your head, “let’s do it.”
you watched in real time as chris’ whole face lit up, turning to do his handshake with matt before they stepped out of the car, chris moving to open your door for you. you watched as he pulled his phone out of his pocket, swiping a couple times and typing something before pocketing his phone again. everyone’s phones went off at once, nate and the other two, austin and cole, glancing at it as they got out the car. chris must’ve unlocked the group. a shiver ran up your spine in anticipation.
nate was the first to approach you, giving a quick hug and leaning down slightly, “you good?” you smiled at his concern, nodding quietly as you hugged him back. the six of you then made your way into the restaurant, chris mumbling something to the hostess before you were guiding to a secluded table at the back of the restaurant. you squeezed chris’ hand in silent gratitude, appreciating the privacy.
you sat down between matt and chris, the other three across from you, as the host passed out menus. you watched as she walked away, and almost tensed, expecting awkward silence. except, it was normal? conversation began flowing immediately, as if this was simply one of the monthly dinners chris had just began dragging you to.
the waitress came and took your drink orders before she left too, and you’d almost completely forgotten about the vibrator. clearly, no one else did. you bit your lip, hard, to conceal the gasp that almost flew out when you felt slow vibrations beginning to fill your core. you glanced around the table, but couldn’t tell who started it, as the conversation continued on. that almost made it better somehow, not knowing who was doing this to you. this gentle vibrations continued on for 30 seconds, before slowing to a stop.
you sighed, almost slumping against your seat, as you took a breath. big mistake. the vibrations started again, this time increasing tenfold. you squealed, turning to hide your face against the closest thing to you, which happened to be matt’s bicep, as you squeezed your thighs shut. chuckles echoed around you, the men clearly amused by your reaction.
you felt the familiar warmth of chris’ hand resting on your thigh, slowly moving inward as he grabbed your leg, pulling. “keep these open,” he murmured, leaning forward to press a kiss against your ear. you shivered, peeling your face away from matt’s arm, glancing up at him sheepishly. matt just smiles down at you, clearly not minding.
eventually the waitress returns with your food, and the vibrations stop, for a bit. you’re halfway through swirling your pasta around your fork when you feel it again, your legs jerking and squeezing together on instinct. matt and chris share a look over your head, before they each reach a hand down and grab a thigh, pulling and effectively keeping you spread open.
you whimper, hand dropping your fork as you hold onto the table. the rest of the night continues on like this, until eventually you feel like you’ll die if you don’t get to cum. you lean in to whisper in chris’ ear, telling him as much. he hums in response, but doesn’t visibly react to it. chris locks eyes with matt again, another silent conversation. the older brother tightens his hold on your leg, keeping you with no room to go as chris’ hand inches upward.
this time you can’t cover your gasp, as chris begins doing quick circles over your clit. your hands fly up to cover your face, your teeth digging into your bottom lip so hard you can feel blood bubbling over. when your orgasm hits it doesn’t just wash over you, it hits hard. but the vibrations don’t stop. before you know it it’s too much for you to handle and-
“sunny!”
the word has hardly passed through your lips before everything stops. matt’s hand leaves your thigh and instead sits between your shoulder blades, a quiet way of saying i’m here. chris’ hand leaves your puffy clit, his arm coming up to wrap around your waist as he leans in, murmuring quiet reassurances in your ear.
“did so good, pretty baby. took it so well.”
eventually you come down from it, and the rest of the night goes smoothly. you begin to lose track of how often you glance up and make eye contact with someone, giving a quiet nod or a smile to their worrying looks and whispered praises.
you’ve never felt more cherished, and on the way home you tell matt and chris this. but if the look they share is anything to go by, this isn’t the last time you’ll be doing this.
i was listening to Octane by Don Toliver while writing this and kept pausing to sing hahaha but anyway lemme know what you think!!
