ooooh I love your stuff <3 how do you think the boys would be with a partner who's a virgin or hasn't orgasmed before?
SuperMega Boys with a Virgin
| Minors DNI | 18+ only |
Ryan Magee x Reader- 880 words
Matt Watson x Reader- 869 words
Warnings: smut, nsfw, cursing, sex, loss of virginity
Ryan Magee
If you ever told Ryan that you were a virgin—or that you’d never orgasmed before—he would take that as a responsibility. Not in a pressured way, not with urgency or expectation, but with this quiet, steady resolve. He makes it his mission to make it safe, pleasurable, and memorable for you. Something you look back on and feel cherished by.
Because Ryan is a giver by nature. And the second he knows you trust him with something so important, he’s all in.
He’d talk to you first. There’s no rushing with him, ever. You’d be sitting next to him on the couch, or maybe curled up in bed together, and he’d be there with his arm draped around your waist. His hand would be warm where it rests on your stomach, thumb rubbing lazy circles into your hip bone as he speaks to you in that soft, reassuring tone only Ryan can manage.
“We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with,” he says, low and slow, as if he’s got all the time in the world. His gaze flickers from your eyes to your lips and back again. “But if you want to… I’m gonna take real good care of you.”
Ryan’s touch is gentle but confident, and that’s what puts you at ease. There’s no fumbling, no hesitation, but he moves slow. Kissing you like he’s tasting you for the first time. His fingers brush down your arms and over your sides as if he’s mapping every inch of your skin—memorizing it. And every few seconds, he’s checking in, not in a way that makes it clinical or awkward, but naturally. His awareness of your body and your emotions is almost instinctive.
"Are you wanting to finally feel my fingers, baby?" he asks between long, steady licks against your throbbing bud. His breath is warm where it ghosts across your skin, his voice quiet but deep enough to make your stomach flip.
He doesn’t say it out loud, but he’s been reading you this whole time. He knows exactly how long to keep each action going—how long to circle his tongue around your clit before you start to whine, how long to kiss down your stomach before you lift your hips in silent begging. His patience isn’t just about going slow; it’s about keeping you right there, on the verge of something new and intense, without overwhelming you. And when you’re trembling and asking for more, he’s there, pushing you gently but firmly until you’re begging.
Ryan’s patience is unmatched when it comes to getting you off. His fingers are thick, warm, and skilled, and he uses them with such deliberate care, curling them slowly inside you, adjusting the angle until he finds that spot that makes your legs shake. His tongue moves in time with his fingers, and the whole time he’s talking to you, praising you in that low, husky voice.
“You’re doing so good for me, baby,” he whispers against your skin, kissing your inner thigh like it’s his favorite place in the world. “So fuckin’ perfect.”
He’s obsessed with watching you. He wants to see every reaction you have, from the way your lashes flutter to the way your hands scramble at the sheets when he makes you cum for the first time. And when you do, Ryan’s eyes darken, and that grin of his is somewhere between wicked and proud.
“That’s it,” he murmurs, voice thick with something almost reverent. “God, look at you…”
After, he doesn’t leave you for a second. His hands are on you, grounding you, stroking your hair. He holds you close, kisses your temple, and tells you how proud he is of you like it’s the most important thing in the world.
If you let him take your virginity, he’s slow, intimate, and careful, but never so careful that it feels disconnected. He’s there with you, watching your face with every gentle thrust, adjusting his pace based on your breaths and sounds. His favorite positions are the ones where he can keep you close and see you—missionary with your legs hooked over his shoulders, or you on top while he guides your hips with those big hands of his. Every time you shiver or moan, his breath catches in his throat, his hips stuttering.
“You feel so good,” he murmurs, eyes locked on yours. “You’re making me feel so good, baby.”
And the whole time, it’s about you. Making sure you feel safe. Making sure you feel loved while you feel good.
Afterward, Ryan’s already running you a bath or carrying you to the shower. He’s always quick about it but never rushed—just knows what you need. He sets you down on the edge of the tub and kneels in front of you, massaging shampoo into your scalp like he’s trying to wash the whole world away. His lips are soft against your shoulder, kissing across your skin as his hands work over you, slow and careful.
“You did so good for me,” he murmurs as he rinses your hair, his fingers combing gently through the strands. He brushes damp hair away from your face, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheek
“Let me take care of you.”
And you know he means it—tonight, tomorrow, always.
Matt Watson
When you tell Matt that you’re a virgin—or that you’ve never had an orgasm before—he doesn’t make a big deal out of it. You expect him to maybe joke around, maybe tease a little, but instead, he gets quiet in this way that makes you feel seen, not exposed. His gaze softens, and he smiles that slow, crooked grin that makes your heart race.
“Guess I’ll just have to ruin you for anyone else, huh?” he murmurs, trying to keep the mood light and unjudgemental.
But there’s heat behind it, something way more intense simmering under the surface. He takes it seriously—not in a tense or awkward way, but like it’s an honor. And he treats it that way the entire time.
Matt’s hands are on you before anything else. Those long fingers, careful but confident, slipping under your shirt like he’s feeling you for the first time—memorizing the curve of your waist, the dip of your spine. He keeps you close, his body warm and solid against yours, one hand bracing the back of your neck as he kisses you slow, coaxing. He’s in no rush. If anything, he drags it out just to watch you melt.
“You let me know if anything doesn’t feel good, yeah?” he says, brushing his thumb across your bottom lip. “I mean it.” His voice dips lower when he adds, “But I’m pretty sure I can make you feel amazing.”
Matt’s a tease, he'd always be a tease, but think time he is kind and so to only tease in ways that make you laugh, make you relax. He kisses your neck, teeth grazing just enough to make you gasp, and you feel his smile against your skin. He loves that. Loves pulling those reactions out of you. But he never pushes. He’s good at sensing where you’re at, constantly checking in with the way he touches you, the way he looks at you.
When it comes to getting you off for the first time, Matt is focused. He moves down your body with slow kisses, his breath warm on your skin. His hands slide between your thighs, spreading them gently, and when he settles between them, it’s like he’s found his favorite place on earth.
“You’re shaking,” he murmurs, sounding more proud than concerned. “You’re so sensitive already. Fuck.”
His fingers are long, and he takes his time with them. He doesn’t rush to push inside you, just traces soft circles around your clit with one hand while the other holds your thigh open. When he finally does press a finger into you, he groans low in his throat.
“So tight,” he breathes. “You’re fuckin’ perfect.” Matt works you open slowly, patiently, watching your face every second. He murmurs constant praise—“That’s it, baby. You’re doing so good for me.”—his voice rougher with each word.
He’ll take you right to the edge and slow down, just to hear you beg. But the second you ask, the second you tell him you need it? He gives it to you. No hesitation.
And when you cum for the first time? It wrecks him. The way your body tenses, the sounds you make—he’s hooked. He slows everything down, easing you through it, but there’s a wild pride in his eyes when you open them again.
“Look at you,” he whispers, wiping a thumb over your cheekbone. “So fuckin’ gorgeous when you fall apart.”
If you let him be the first to fuck you, he’s careful, so gentle you'd think he's afraid. He’s there with you, guiding you through it, kissing you between soft moans of your name. He holds your hand as he slides into you, slow but deep, watching every reaction. His forehead presses against yours when he’s fully seated inside, his breath ragged.
“Jesus, baby… you feel so good.”
His favorite thing is watching you. He wants to see the exact moment you relax around him, the moment you start to enjoy it. He groans every time you squeeze around him, his hands holding your hips like you might float away.
“Doing so good,” he whispers. “You’re taking me so well.”
And he’s not rushing toward his own release. He’s focused on you. Making sure it’s as good as it can be, that you feel wanted and adored the entire time.
Afterwards, Matt’s all about aftercare. He cleans you up gently, using tissues or warm cloths from his bedside drawer. He keeps a bottle of water on the nightstand and hands it to you like it’s instinct, rubbing slow circles into your thigh while you drink.
“You good, baby?” he asks quietly, and when you nod, he grins, leaning in to kiss you sweetly.
But he doesn’t stop there. Matt always puts on something dumb on TV afterward—something familiar and comforting—and pulls you into his lap, your head resting against his shoulder. He runs his fingers through your hair, tracing your scalp softly as you relax.
And every so often, he looks down at you, that soft expression back on his face.
“Told you I’d take care of you,” he murmurs, pressing another kiss to your forehead. “And I’m not done.”
He won’t let you go for the rest of the night, holding you close, protective in a way that makes you feel safe enough to drift off completely.
| Minors DNI | 18+ only |
5.4k words
Summary: What starts as a typical day filming with your boyfriend Ryan and his best friend Matt takes a sharp turn when an innocent game of “Odds Are” pushes boundaries neither of you expected. With pride on the line and a dare that blurs the rules, you find yourself caught between competition and desire.
Warnings: smut, nsfw, cursing, oral (afab receiving), penetration, teasing, praise, rough sex, degradation, light choking, voyeurism (implied), exhibitionism (audio recording), possessiveness, mention of blackmail (non-graphic), mild jealousy, alcohol consumption, consensual power dynamics
a/n: It's been a while but do not fear, I'm here now :)). You can also find my stuff on a03 at lavender_creame
Matt and Ryan tended to be quite competitive with one another. Whether it was who could drink the most before puking, or who could beat the other in Super Monkey Ball, they always found a way to one-up each other. Early into their friendship, as a result of that competition, they started playing a game Ryan—your boyfriend—titled Odds Are.
It was simple enough, but it kept them entertained. Ryan once described it to you as nothing more than a game of chance: one person says, “Odds are you ___”, proposing some stupid or daring task, and the other responds with a number that reflects how willing they are to do it. The higher the number, the less they want to go through with it—the higher the odds. Simple. Dangerous. And, apparently, endlessly entertaining.
This day, recording a video for SuperMega, was just like any other. Matt and Ryan lounged on the couch making casual conversation with Tucker, who was setting up the camera and tweaking the lighting one last time.
“I think these are the last ones! ” Justin shouted from the hallway right outside the recording room. By the time he strolled in—packages stacked in his arms, leaning precariously against his shoulder—Matt was already complaining.
“Shit! More? Really? Look at how fucking many we already have, ” Matt groaned dramatically as Justin placed the boxes carefully atop the pile already set before them.
“Whoever edits this is going to have to do a lot of condensing, ” Matt muttered, scratching the back of his neck.
Justin knew he’d be stuck with the editing. There was no way Matt was dealing with that—obvious enough. He opened his mouth to call Matt out, maybe give him shit for complaining, but before he could, Luke strolled in with a six-pack in hand.
As the rest of the boys cheered in delight, Ryan stayed seated, absorbed in his phone as he texted you. You and Ryan had been dating for two, maybe three years now—long enough that he wasn’t exactly sure. While the honeymoon phase had come and gone, Ryan still texted you daily, sent photos, checked in.
He aimed the camera and snapped a shaky panorama of the mailroom, showing the extent of boxes laid out across the floor and table.
You were always thankful for Ryan’s thoughtfulness, even a couple of years in, and were always just as quick to reply:
“That’s a lot of packages. When can you deliver me yours? ”
Ryan smiled at your flirty message, then smirked to himself as he fired back:
“ If you’re good, then maybe tonight. But I don’t know if packages this large have same-day shipping. ”
He was still grinning when Matt stood up to grab a beer from Luke, deliberately leaning over Ryan’s shoulder and sneaking a glance at his screen.
“Damn, Ryan! Texting Y/N during recording time? You must be down bad, ” Matt teased, nudging him with an unopened beer.
Ryan furrowed his brow slightly, but his smirk didn’t fade as he cracked open the can. “You wanna play this game, Matthew? ”
Matt was already grinning wider. “You’d think after this long, you would have gotten out of the puppy love phase. But even now, your tail’s wagging. Keep sexting Y/N during recording and the audience is gonna see your big red rocket poking through your shorts. ”
Ryan barked out a laugh. “You wanna talk about sexting? You were texting that chick from Tinder for weeks at the Plex, until she turned out to be a catfish and tried to blackmail you. Didn’t she leak your dick pics? ”
The room erupted. Luke snorted his beer through his nose. Justin nearly dropped a box.
“Low blow, man, ” Matt pouted, but he couldn’t keep the grin off his face.
Tucker, already moving toward the camera, took the opportunity to corral them. “Alright, alright, ladies. We’re all pretty here, ” he rolled his eyes. “Let’s get going. I think we all have shit to do after this. ”
The boys settled into the couch, ready to record yet another video.
As they sliced open boxes, Matt and Ryan cracked jokes, roasting the stuff viewers had sent in for their latest fan mail episode. A few drinks in, Matt made a joke controversial enough to warrant censoring—and their laughter stuttered to a halt.
“Justin! Censor that with a funny sound effect, ” Matt called out. “Like a sexy moan or something. ”
Ryan turned to Matt, his voice suddenly low and serious, but with a glint of mischief in his eye. “Matt, shut up. Remember? Justin’s a virgin. He has no clue what you mean by that. ”
Matt snickered, his classic lopsided grin on full display. “Shit. You’re right. That’s my bad. It’s best if we don’t remind him. ” He paused, then smirked again. “I suppose you’ll just have to handle it instead. ” He winked.
All five of them cracked up, but something about Matt’s tone made Ryan pause. His smile faltered for a second.
“What’s that supposed to mean, bro? ” Ryan said, trying for playful but feeling a flicker of something more serious.
Matt leaned in, placing his hand on Ryan’s cheek in a mockingly gentle gesture, stroking once. “Whatever you want it to mean, big boy. ”
Ryan chuckled and swatted him away, but the weird vibe lingered. He shoved it out of his head and unfolded an ironic t-shirt a viewer had sent in, showing it off to the camera as Luke giggled next to him.
Not long after, they finished recording. Tucker turned off the camera with an apologetic smile, already packing up his gear.
“Sorry to be rushing out, guys. Got another shoot soon. ”
“No worries, man. We’ll clean up, ” Matt replied casually, waving him off without looking up from a fan letter.
Tucker left, shutting the door behind him. Justin and Luke had already vanished halfway through the video, holed up in the editing room.
Ryan realized they were alone. And Matt’s earlier comment—it was still nagging him.
“Hey, Matt, ” Ryan said, trying to keep his tone light, “what did you mean when you said I could handle the sound effect? ”
Matt smiled, smug as hell, still reading the letter in his hands. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. ”
Ryan sighed. That look told him everything. Matt was being an asshole on purpose, which meant he did mean something by it.
“Come on, man. Don’t play dumb, ” Ryan nudged him lightly. “You’re gonna tell me anyway, so just do it now. ”
Matt chuckled, folding the letter carefully before finally meeting Ryan’s gaze. “Okay, okay. Hear me out. ”
Ryan raised an eyebrow. “I’m listening. ”
Matt grinned. “Odds are you record yourself fucking Y/N to get the soundbite for the video. ”
Ryan snorted so hard he almost choked. He couldn’t believe how casually Matt said it. “You cannot be serious. ”
“Dead serious, ” Matt smirked.
Ryan laughed again but didn’t skip a beat. “Hundred. ”
“Come on, man. Hundred? ” Matt whined.
“Bro, ” Ryan said flatly, but he was still smiling.
Matt gave him a look—the look—the one Ryan knew meant he wasn’t going to drop it. Ryan sighed.
“Fine. Fifty. Take it or leave it. ”
Matt’s grin widened. “Deal. ”
Ryan shook his head, wondering for the millionth time why he always let Matt drag him into this shit.
Matt started the count. “One… two… three—”
“Thirty-seven! ” they both said in unison.
Matt screamed. Ryan froze.
Matt collapsed backwards onto the couch, howling with laughter. Ryan just sat there, mouth open, processing the fact that they had both picked thirty-seven.
“There’s no way, ” Ryan mumbled. “No fucking way. ”
“There is a way, ” Matt grinned, sitting back up and slapping Ryan on the back. “You better start thinking about what mic you’re gonna use, bro. ”
“There’s no way Y/N is going to believe this, ” Ryan muttered, stunned. “She’s gonna think I’m insane. ”
Matt’s grin didn’t fade. “No, she’ll believe you. You’d never make up something this absurd. ” He stood and stretched. “She gets back from work soon, doesn’t she? You better not be late delivering your package. ”
Ryan groaned as Matt laughed even harder at his own innuendo.
Ryan knew Matt had a crush on you. It wasn’t a secret—not to Ryan, anyway. Matt’s dry spell had dragged on long enough that Ryan figured his friend was living vicariously through him more than anything.
But there was something sharper behind Matt’s grin now. Ryan couldn’t shake the feeling that Matt was testing him.
On the drive home, Ryan kept replaying the number in his head. Thirty-seven. Both of them. Out of fifty.
He glanced at his phone at a red light. Your contact was pinned at the top.
“She’s gonna think I’m an idiot, ” Ryan muttered.
And maybe she would.
But deep down, under the disbelief and annoyance, Ryan couldn’t deny the part of him that was curious.
Maybe even a little excited.
Ryan sat in his car, parked in front of your apartment, engine idling. The sun had dipped low enough that everything outside was tinted in that orange-gold glow that made L. A. almost look romantic. Almost. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, staring at the message he'd typed out and deleted three separate times already.
“Hey babe? Can we talk about something weird lol, like odds are weird? ”
He sighed and deleted it again.
This was so stupid.
But a bet was a bet. And Ryan wasn’t about to take an L from Matt without at least trying to cash it in. Even if this was probably going to end with you roasting him until the day he died.
Finally, he pocketed his phone and climbed out of the car.
Inside, you were already home—flopped sideways across the couch in one of Ryan’s old hoodies, scrolling on your phone. You glanced up as the door clicked open.
“Hey, you, ” you greeted, smiling lazily. “You’re late. ”
Ryan kicked his shoes off with a grunt and crossed the room to press a quick kiss to your temple. “Yeah. Mailroom hell. Plus Matt’s a dumbass. ”
You snorted. “So… Tuesday? ”
“Exactly. ”
He sat down beside you, leaning back, arms crossed over his chest. You studied him for a moment before setting your phone aside. “Alright. What is it? ”
“What do you mean? ” Ryan asked, all fake innocence.
You gave him the look. “Ryan. You’re making the face. ”
“What face? ”
“The face where you did something dumb but you’re hoping you can charm your way out of it. ” You arched a brow. “It’s adorable. And very transparent. ”
Ryan sighed. “Okay, yeah, maybe I did something dumb. ”
“Okay, ” you said, drawing out the syllables. “Let’s hear it. ”
Ryan rubbed the back of his neck. “So… you know how Matt and I play Odds Are, right? ”
“Yeah, ” you said, already grinning. “It’s the reason I have a video of you puking while doing the worm in a Waffle House parking lot. ”
He chuckled. “Good times. ”
“Great times. I almost left you that night, honestly. ”
“Fair, ” he said, smiling despite himself.
There was a beat of silence. Ryan’s foot tapped restlessly on the carpet.
“So, ” he started again, “we were playing earlier. And, uh, Matt dared me to do something. ”
You tilted your head. “How bad? ”
Ryan groaned. “Pretty bad. ”
You, once again, unfazed and unworried by whatever Matt’s dare was, spoke again, “Like, eat-a-dead-bug bad, or get-another-tattoo-you-regret bad? ”
He winced. “Neither. ”
You waited.
“He… told me to record us. Y'know. ” He stood up, pacing a few steps away from you and waved a hand vaguely. “During. ”
You blinked at him.
“For a sound effect, ” he added quickly. “For the video. ”
There was a beat of silence. Then you laughed. A bright, sharp bark of disbelief.
“He dared you to record us fucking so he could use it as…? ” you waited
“A censor beep for a slur he said on camera... ”
“A censor beep for a slur he said on camera. ” you repeated, grinning so wide it almost hurt. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. ”
Part of your laughing was because you found the situation undeniably funny, but the other part of you was starting to warm. Heat was festuring in your cheeks and between your legs at the thought. You knew Matt had a crush on you, so did Ryan and everyone else, but this? And Ryan was going along with it? Sure Ryan had issues backing down from a challenge, but you could sense something else- a deeper excitement.
Ryan groaned, burying his face in his hands, a slight blush reaching his face as well. “I know! But I said fifty! And we both said thirty-seven! What were the odds? ! ”
You laughed harder. “Fifty to one. ”
He groaned, glaring at you through his fingers.
You stretched, sitting up straighter, folding your hands into your lap, subtly squeezing your tits together despite them being covered by Ryan’s oversized hoodie. “So. Are you doing it? ”
Ryan stared at you. “Wait, what? ”
“Are you gonna do it? ” you repeated, calm as anything. “A bet’s a bet, right? ”
Ryan blinked. “You’re seriously okay with this? ”
You shrugged. “I mean… we’ve done worse things for fun. And it’s not like the actual video would get out. You trust Matt to just use the audio, right? ”
Ryan hesitated.
You snorted. “Okay, maybe not trust. But we both know he wouldn’t risk the fallout if he fucked this up. ”
Ryan exhaled slowly. “You’re too chill about this. ”
You smirked. “I think it’s funny. And kinda hot. ”
That made his stomach twist in a good way. He let out a breath, trying not to grin too much. “You’re insane. ”
“Takes one to date one, ” you shot back, standing up and meeting him at the edge of the living room. Placing your hands on his chest, you kissed him lightly, just grazing yours over his. “So? We doing this? ”
When Ryan hesitated, you looked at him with big doe eyes, lustful and pleading, subconsciously squeezing your legs together. Feeling your slick begin to drip, soaking your panties only hidden by the length of Ryan’s oversized hoodie, you stood on your tip toes, leaning into Ryan’s chest. As your breath hit his collarbone, and your hand drifted from his shirt to the bulge forming in his pants, Ryan’s attempt at an answer came out as a hushed, breathy groan instead.
You and him both knew that he wanted this just as much as you, just as much as Matt.
Ryan let out a slow breath, his hands settling on your waist, pulling you down from the nape of his neck in an attempt to compose himself. “Yeah, ” he finally said, “we’re doing this. ”
You gave him a sly grin and stepped back, leaving him momentarily stunned before you headed toward the bedroom. “Alright, then, ” you called over your shoulder, casual as anything. “Better get set up. ”
It took Ryan a second to shake off the feeling that he was in way over his head, but then he was moving—grabbing his backpack from beside the couch and fishing out the portable mic he usually used for podcasts when they weren’t in the studio. Not fancy, but clear enough audio- probably too clear.
He glanced toward the bedroom door, half-expecting you to pop your head out and laugh at him for taking it so seriously or tell him you had changed your mind. But you didn’t. So he kept fiddling.
If Ryan was going to do this, he was going to do it right, and after a few minutes of adjusting levels and running test clips (that you would absolutely make fun of him for later), he knocked on the bedroom door like he was about to walk into a job interview.
When there was no answer, he cracked it open, to meet your gaze as you raised a brow. “You’re knocking now? ”
When Ryan peaked his head in, he saw your nude figure lounging on the bed, bored from the wait and scrolling on your phone.
The messenger app was open, although Ryan couldn’t see it from where he stood, but with your glistening curves? He wouldn’t have noticed, regardless.
Shaking himself from the nervous excitement, he spoke, attempting to break the awkward air he was creating by his own volition with a joke, “I don’t know the etiquette for… this, ” Ryan said, gesturing vaguely to the mic dangling from his hand. “Should I have brought a clipboard? A waiver? ”
You snorted, sending one final text: “haha guess I owe you, ” before crawling across the bed and grabbing the mic from him. “Nah. We’re professionals. Plus, ” You looked at him slyly, “You know that I’ve been waiting for this large package of yours all day. ” You hesitated, “or was it too large for same-day shipping? ”
Ryan didn’t answer right away.
Your teasing snapped him out of his nerves—reminded him exactly how bad he’d been wanting you all day.
The shift in him was obvious.
He let the question hang in the air.
Heavy.
Deliberate.
He set the mic on the nightstand with careful precision.
You had controlled things up until now, and Ryan didn’t like giving up the upper hand—not in games with Matt, not with you.
But by holding the silence, by drawing out the moment, he reclaimed something.
His fingers lingered on the dials longer than necessary, adjusting levels he knew were fine.
Not buying time anymore.
Testing you.
Waiting.
And you gave him a reaction.
Subtle.
But it was there.
Propped on your elbows, head tilted, you watched him like he was a puzzle you were about to figure out.
There was amusement in your eyes.
But something else too.
A heat that had been building since the moment he told you about the bet.
That look made Ryan’s pulse thrum in his ears.
But he kept his face neutral.
No tells.
You weren’t fooled.
You never were.
You were waiting him out.
Letting him think he was calling the shots.
But Ryan was starting to realize the decision had been made long before either of you stepped into this room.
Maybe it was the second Matt smirked at him in the mailroom.
Maybe it was the moment you laughed at the dare.
Maybe it didn’t matter.
Because now?
It was happening.
He exhaled slowly and straightened up, rolling his shoulders.
The mic was live.
The red light glowed faintly.
Recording.
Picking up every breath.
Every shift of the sheets.
And soon, it would pick up you.
“You know Matt’s gonna be listening to this, right? ” you said, your voice light. Teasing. But your gaze flicked toward the mic.
Ryan followed your line of sight, jaw flexing.
“He’s waiting, ” you added, stretching your arms over your head, arching your back just enough to make it impossible to ignore.
Ryan’s fingers tightened slightly where they rested on the nightstand.
“He’s probably already hard thinking about it, ” you continued, tone almost absent, like you were talking about the weather.
Ryan’s jaw clenched.
“That’s what you want, isn’t it? ” you asked, more curious than anything. “For him to hear me like this. To know it’s you making me sound that way. ”
His gaze snapped back to you. Dark. Focused.
You were still smiling. Still calm. But your eyes gave you away.
You were baiting him.
And he was taking it.
Ryan climbed onto the bed, one knee sinking into the mattress as he leaned over you. His hand found your ankle, fingers wrapping around it like it was second nature. Like he’d done it a hundred times before.
He stroked along the curve, thumb dragging slow, deliberate circles over your skin as he moved higher.
Then, without looking at you—
“Spread. ”
The word came low. Rough. Not a question.
And you obeyed.
You shifted, legs parting, knees bending as you opened yourself up for him.
Ryan’s breath hitched for half a second.
But he didn’t falter.
Didn’t rush.
He settled between your legs, palms bracing on your thighs as he stared down at you. His thumbs swept slow paths over your skin, tracing invisible lines.
Testing.
Measuring.
“You’re already wet, ” he murmured, more to himself than you. But you heard it.
Your lips parted, breath catching. No words. Just air.
He watched you for a long moment. Dark eyes dragging over every inch of you like he was memorizing it. Taking stock before tearing it apart.
“Good girl, ” he said quietly, under his breath.
Your breathing hitched audibly.
And Ryan smirked.
“That’s gonna sound real nice on playback, ” he added, glancing toward the mic on the nightstand.
You let out a quiet laugh, but it broke halfway through.
“Hope Matt likes what he hears, ” you said, recovering quickly.
Ryan’s gaze snapped back to you. His smirk widened, but there was something sharper behind it now.
“Oh, he will, ” he said, voice low and steady.
His hands slid from your thighs to your hips, gripping tight enough that you knew you’d feel it tomorrow.
And then he dragged you down toward him.
The shift was sudden, enough that you gasped and grabbed at his shoulders.
Ryan wasn’t gentle.
He wasn’t hesitant.
His mouth was on yours before you could say another word—rough, claiming, his lips demanding yours. He kissed you like he wanted you to feel it in your spine.
Like he wanted it to echo through the mic.
And maybe he did.
Your hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer. Ryan growled low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your mouth.
He wasn’t nervous anymore.
He was starving.
His lips broke from yours, trailing rough down your neck, teeth scraping lightly. You shivered, arching into him as your fingers tugged at his sleeves, impatient, wanting more—skin, heat, him.
You wanted him stripped down as bare as you were, but he was still fully clothed, and it was driving you insane.
But before you could push his shirt up, his hand shot out—wrapping around your wrist in a firm, sudden grip.
It wasn’t painful.
But it stopped you cold.
Commanding. Deliberate.
Your breath caught, a startled squeak slipping out before you could stop it.
Ryan’s eyes darkened immediately, zeroing in on you like he’d been waiting for that sound.
And then you heard it.
The faint, almost imperceptible click from the mic on the nightstand.
It picked up everything now—the soft slap of skin, the catch in your breath, the helpless sound you’d just made.
You flushed, glancing at the device.
Ryan was faster.
His grip on your wrist tightened just enough to bring your attention back to him.
He leaned in, lips brushing your ear.
His voice was low and rough.
“Tonight’s all about you, baby, ” he murmured, dragging out every word. “You and Matt wanted this, right? ”
You shivered.
“Then let’s see how much noise I can get you to make. ”
His lips ghosted along your jaw. “Nothing about me. ”
His free hand slid between your thighs again, fingers dragging through your slick folds like he was testing just how ready you were.
Judging by his low exhale, he was more than satisfied.
“Let’s see if you can make him proud. ”
You barely had time to process it before Ryan’s mouth was on you.
Desperate. Hungry.
Like he’d been starved and just found water in the desert.
And he wasn’t planning to come up for air.
The sound that tore from your throat wasn’t pretty; it was raw and sudden, an uncontrolled cry that echoed in the room before breaking into a moan.
You barely caught your breath before another followed, sharper this time, as Ryan’s fingers found your clit.
His touch was careful—cruel in its precision. Pinching lightly, then rolling, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp.
Not enough to tip you over.
Not even close.
Just enough to punish you.
Punish you for teasing him.
For testing him.
For making him earn this.
You knew this side of Ryan.
This was what he did when you pushed him too far.
But this time, he wasn’t letting up like usual.
He kept going.
Kept pinching and rolling that sensitive bundle while his mouth worked you relentlessly—licking, sucking, dragging sounds from your throat like he was collecting them.
And you gave him plenty.
Pretty noises spilled out of you, slipping between helpless moans and shaky whines, giving Matt a full catalog to sift through later.
But none of them were the ones you knew he was waiting for.
Ryan was making you both wait.
Your moans softened into pleading whines.
“Please…” you whispered, your voice breaking.
Ryan hummed against you, the vibration sharp and deliberate.
He wasn’t done.
Not even close.
His fingers curled inside you, finding your sweet spot with infuriating ease. His thumb circled your clit, slow and tight, keeping you teetering on the edge but never letting you fall.
His mouth pressed hot, open kisses to the inside of your thigh, teeth scraping just enough to make you flinch.
Pain, pleasure—both wrapped in the same tight coil.
You moaned his name, thick with frustration and need.
Ryan smirked against your skin.
Calm.
Too calm.
Like he was enjoying this way too much.
And he was.
You squirmed, chasing his fingers.
He only tsked under his breath, tightening his grip on your thigh.
“I said I’d make you beg, ” he murmured. “I meant it. ”
And then your phone buzzed.
The sound was faint, muffled against the sheets.
But Ryan heard it.
He stilled, dark gaze flicking toward the nightstand.
Your phone was lit up.
From the last message you sent:
haha guess I owe you
But it wasn’t that message that caught his attention.
It was the new one.
The one that popped up on the screen as he watched.
Matt: You better. If you think Ryan has a package worth your pretty face and sexy body, you have no idea what Matt-izon Prime will get you.
For a moment, everything stopped.
Ryan’s breath hitched.
His fingers still buried inside you.
His jaw clenched, that calm confidence slipping into something darker.
And then he moved.
Fast.
His hand slipped from your body, leaving you empty and aching.
Before you could whimper, he was on you.
Rough hands gripping your hips, dragging you down the bed until your ass was flush with the edge.
Controlled.
But there was an urgency now.
A fury.
“Mine, ” Ryan growled, the word vibrating through his chest.
You barely had time to process it before he was there—lined up—and then he thrust inside you.
One hard, claiming stroke.
You screamed.
Your body arched, overwhelmed by the sudden fullness.
And you shattered.
Your orgasm ripped through you, lightning fast, your body clenching hard around him as he filled you completely.
“I bet you wish you were me right now, Matt. ”
His grip on your thighs tightened, holding you open.
“But guess what? ”
His smirk twisted into something dangerous.
“Y/N is mine. ”
But Ryan didn’t slow.
He wasn’t gentle.
He was relentless.
He gripped your waist hard enough to bruise, holding you in place as he drove into you again.
Harder.
His free hand slid to your throat, pressing lightly—just enough to tilt your head back and keep your eyes on him.
“You’re not thinking about him now, are you? ” he demanded, voice dark but steady.
You shook your head, breathless.
“Say it. ”
Your breath hitched, tears pricking your eyes from the intensity.
But you found your voice.
“Ryan makes me feel better than you ever could, ” you gasped. “That’s why I’m with him. That’s why you’re a fucking loser. ”
Ryan’s eyes burned hotter. His pace didn’t falter.
He leaned in, his lips brushing your ear.
“Louder. ”
You whimpered as he thrust harder, dragging another broken sound from you.
“Louder, ” he growled again, his teeth scraping your jaw.
You cried out, voice cracking as you repeated it—louder, harsher.
“Ryan makes me feel better than you ever could! That’s why I’m with him, Matt! That’s why you’re a loser! ”
And Ryan smiled.
Dark.
Satisfied.
You weren’t just saying it.
You were living it.
The room was thick with heat.
Your labored breathing.
The slick sounds of Ryan moving inside you.
He hadn’t slowed. Not once.
And somehow, even with how rough he was, Ryan never lost that control. That precision—the kind of focus he brought to editing or mastering a track—he was applying it to you.
Deliberate. Exact.
Like he had something to prove.
Maybe to himself.
Maybe to Matt.
Maybe both.
Every thrust dragged another sound out of you, pulling orgasm after orgasm from your trembling body.
You were too sensitive.
Too raw.
But Ryan didn’t care.
He was relentless.
His hand slid from your throat to your jaw, forcing your gaze back to his when you tried to look away. His dark eyes locked on yours, burning with something you couldn’t quite name.
When he thrusted harder—deeper—you felt it.
The shift.
A little desperate now.
A little needy.
And then, with one final stroke, he pushed his mouth onto yours as he came deep inside you.
The moment he spilled inside you, something in you snapped.
You screamed, tearing away from the kiss, your body shaking apart in his arms.
When he let go, breath ragged, his expression dark but calmer now, his thumb brushed your cheek in a slow, almost… gentle way.
And then he said it.
“There’s the sound I was looking for. ”
His voice was rough. Satisfied.
And the second the words left his mouth, you realized what he meant.
The mic.
Still recording.
Still capturing everything.
That ragged cry—the one that had ripped from your throat when he finished—that was the sound Matt had been waiting for.
Ryan slowed, hips pressing deep and staying there, grinding slowly, making you tremble all over again.
He kissed you then. Soft. Deep. Like he hadn’t just wrecked you. Like you weren’t still shaking apart underneath him.
When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breathing slowly evening out.
“There it is, ” he murmured, voice lower now. “That’s the one. ”
You nodded, dazed.
Ryan chuckled, then kissed you again—lingering this time.
His hand stroked gently over your thigh while the other reached for the mic, carefully stopping the recording.
He glanced at the audio file briefly, his expression flickering with something you couldn’t quite place.
“Perfect, ” he said, after a beat.
Epilogue:
The next day, Ryan was back at the Plex.
Editing.
Laughing with Tucker.
Things felt normal.
Like nothing had happened.
Until Matt found him in the kitchen.
Ryan didn’t hear him at first. He was digging through the fridge, cracking open a LaCroix when Matt leaned against the counter, beer in hand, that familiar smug grin on his face.
“File was good, ” Matt said casually.
Ryan’s head snapped up.
He schooled his expression fast.
“Yeah? ” he asked, keeping his voice even.
“Yeah. ”
Matt took a slow sip. His eyes gleamed.
“Y/N sounded… amazing. ”
Ryan’s jaw tightened, but he forced a short laugh.
“Guess we’re even then. ”
Matt chuckled. “For now. ”
There was a beat of silence.
Heavy.
Thick between them.
Matt took another drink, then tilted his head just slightly.
“But you know…” he started, voice low, lazy in that way that always made Ryan’s stomach twist.
“You and Y/N kind of put me in a weird position, man. ”
Ryan didn’t move.
Didn’t blink.
“Yeah? ”
Matt smiled wider.
“Yeah. You got to prove yourself. ”
He leaned in a little closer.
“But what was it she said again? ” he asked, feigning thoughtfulness.
His eyes were sharp when they met Ryan’s.
“‘Ryan makes me feel better than you ever could. ’”
He said it slowly, like he was tasting the words.
Then he chuckled under his breath.
“Loser, huh? ”
Ryan exhaled through his nose, steady.
But his grip tightened on the can in his hand.
Matt grinned, teeth flashing.
“Well, ” he said, stepping back with a shrug, “sounds like you don’t think I could make her feel good. ”
A pause.
“That either of you don’t. ”
Ryan’s pulse kicked up.
He knew where this was going.
Matt finished his beer, setting the empty bottle on the counter with a soft clink.
“But I was thinking…”
His tone was lighter now, but no less dangerous.
“…odds are, I could do better. ”
Ryan’s throat felt dry.
He shouldn’t.
He knew he shouldn’t.
But he couldn’t help it.
“Yeah? ” Ryan asked, voice rougher than he wanted.
maybe for St. Patrick's Day you could write something about getting drunk on St. Patrick's Day with Ryan and him wearing that Kiss Me I'm Irish tank top and that leading to some giggly drunk sex?
Barhopping (Ryan Magee x Reader)
| Minors DNI | 18+ only |
5.9k words
Summary: Your best friend, Kia, takes you out barhopping on St. Patrick's day to help you get over your last relationship.
Warnings: smut, nsfw, cursing, sex, mentions of alcohol
a/n: I'm back!! mwah <33. You can also find my stuff on a03 at lavender_creame
The ache and yearning you’d felt since the night your ex cheated on you seemed to always find its way back to you on the brightest days. Unfortunately for you, the ‘Golden State’ held onto its title tight, and shined through your window no matter the time.
It was 9:13 PM, and technicolor still blinded your eyes through the cracks in your curtains as your best friend, Kia, sat in front of you, lightly patting your face with powder.
"So, remind me, Y/N, how long has it been since you and Jake broke up?" Kia asked, smirking.
As your best friend, she knew all the best ways to prod you, even worse, she knew that because she was doing you a favor, there wasn’t too much you could truly complain about.
"You’ve been hinting at it all night, Kia, don’t start with me-" you replied, attempting to cut her off with a grumble and roll of your eyes, but she had already begun and you knew that this conversation was a long time coming.
The truth was, the relationship had been long over even before that fateful night; what is a relationship if it’s dateless, sexless, and loveless? Truth is, that was no relationship at all. Still, seeing him with another woman gave you a feeling you doubt you’ll ever forget, and as much as you spent most nights desiring nothing more than to be held, days, months, and now years hadn’t helped you overcome the fears that clouded your mind.
"No, YN!” She spoke playfully, “Come on! It’s been a year and a half. It’s time for you to get back out there, and this is the perfect night!"
You held a tube of Kia’s mascara between your fingers, fiddling with the textures, sighing, and shifting uncomfortably. "Kia, you know how bad Jake cheating on me messed me up. I just don’t know if I’m ready to trust anyone enough to fall in love."
Pulling your face back into position, Kia shot you an annoyed look in the complaint of your shuffling, silently warning you not to ruin her hard work.
Within the blink of an eye, however, her glare softened back into a smirk. "Who says you gotta fall in love to have a little fun?"
You laughed at her audacity as she refocused on her task at hand. "YN, if you keep moving, this mascara is going to make you look like a raccoon."
This time taking her warning seriously, you commented once more before truly and actually holding still: "You can’t blame me when you know I’ve never done anything remotely casual before let alone a one-night stand with someone I’ve met at a bar.”
Kia chuckled, "Well, maybe you should," patting your cheek to let you know she finished her work.
Letting you see the final product, she turned the mirror towards you, letting you admire yourself. The makeup was light and dewy; brushed onto you, without coating. It was perfect. Dropping the tube, you hugged Kia to thank her for her time, but even more, for her care.
"Alright, it’s done now, so try not to move too much while it’s drying.”
Kia stood up and began the work on her own face, picking her shade as you too lifted yourself from the bed to begin thumbing through shirts. As you picked your outfit, and Kia finished her makeup, you thought about how despite wanting to prove her wrong, chances were, it wouldn’t solve anything. The truth was, it really had been some time since you last were kissed, much less had sex. You and her both knew that your ex had left you in shambles, but perhaps was right when she hinted that the amount of time passing was getting a bit absurd. Although you never guessed a one-night stand would be of interest to you, there was a chance that popping your last long-term relationship cherry would finally set you on the right foot.
Stepping outside, the air was just warm enough to wear the outfit you had chosen but still cool enough to fit the still earliness of the spring. The sun had just begun to set when you slid into the Uber, and while sitting next to the window, you realized you were gifted a perfect view of the sky. It shimmered with bright oranges and reds, yellow clouds scraping the sky and clashing with the green that covered the town for the night. Laughter filled the night sky as a group of drunk girls walked past your now parked Uber, giggling about who knows what; Kia dragged you out the door into the first bar.
“Your first shot is on me, cause’ we're making sure you get laid tonight!” She said with an inarguable excitement in her voice which when paired with the shot she shoved in your hand, shut down your long list of grievances. Looking between your enthusiastic friend and the drink in your hand, you knew that she truly just wanted to see you happy, so instead of complaining, you responded with a simple shrug, downing the liquid in one, swift gulp.
The bar you walked into was much emptier than either of you would have guessed, but you both sat down regardless. It was a nice, quaint bar with pop culture posters lining the walls alongside a few pinups. The two of you hadn’t been to this bar in years and although it looked the same, you definitely remembered to be busier.
“So what? We may not be able to find you a man here,” Kia started, “But we sure as hell can start drinking before we move on to the next bar!”
You laughed at the thought, slowly settling into the idea of finding someone to stay the night with. The two of you clinked glasses before taking large sips of the cocktails in front of you, finishing the drinks, and ordering another as you stood up and started a game of darts.
As you returned your empty glasses to the bartender, Kia hailed a second Uber. You ignored her winning taunts, smiling and rolling your eyes, knowing that there were pool tables at the next bar where you would get your revenge.
You were relieved to see that this bar had a better and busier vibe, it was bigger, but not huge, and you knew, just by glancing around, that there were plenty of possible suitors. The bar’s name was ‘Mr Furley’s Bar’ and used to be your favorite back in college. The lighting was warm and the walls and furniture were covered in a beautiful hardwood. Red pool tables were lined up all the way to the back wall, and it was always one of the most popular places to be, especially on a night like tonight. Splitting off from the entrance, you and Kia found yourselves at the last open pool table starting a rematch that was quickly interrupted.
"Mind if we join you, ladies? Looks like all the other tables are taken."
Turning around, you were met with the sight of two men, the one who spoke was tall and skinny. His hair was a bleached blond with dark roots and a smile that when spread across his face was beyond contagious. The man that stood beside him; however, made you blush from sight alone. He too was tall, but was built much more broadly, with shoulders that stretched across his strong body and long brunette hair that fell atop them in loose waves. His beard was clean-cut and defined his jawline to a sharp edge. He was dressed in such a way that you couldn’t help but giggle, a bright green tee hung upon his muscled chest that said ‘Kiss Me I’m Irish” a shirt which you could tell he wore with an ironic pride, numerous cheap plastic necklaces draped around his defined collar bones as well.
You and Kia looked at each other, you shrugging and her looking at you mischievously, which suddenly made you regret your nonchalantness surrounding them joining your match. You couldn’t believe yourself as butterflies filled your stomach. You knew that half of them were anxiety and the other were from excitement, regardless; nausea was the result. After all the contemplation you had done over the last couple hours, you thought that when the time came, you’d feel ready, but now that it was happening, there was finally a guy who you were interested in right in front of you, you were a nervous wreck, and all you could focus on were your sweaty palms and the way his biceps peaked through his tee.
“Yeah, no problem, we’ll share, but not for free, of course. You two definitely owe us drinks for this.” Kia said playfully, inviting one to buy you some liquor to loosen your anxiety.
The blond stepped forward, "No worries, that was already the plan. We never receive without giving in return,” he said with a smile and a wink as his friend beside him scoffed at his innuendo, although amusement was still present on his face.
The broad-shouldered friend spoke, trying to turn the conversation, “I’m Ryan,” he looked to his side, inviting the blonde to speak again.
He spoke with a playful and childlike confidence that exuded the same energy as that of a middle schooler, introducing himself as Matt.
Ryan quickly cut into the conversation by turning to you, “What’s your drink of choice…,” he paused, giving you time to introduce yourself.
Your breath caught in your throat as he turned his attention in your direction; you rather liked his voice.
“Y/N and you should pick a shot for us both to take together.”
Ryan smiled, “Shots,” he thought out loud, “Alright, I like that energy. I got just the one.”
Ryan nodded and asked Kia the same, taking a mental note of her answer before heading towards the bar.
“Wow, okay,” Kia said, pulling you out of your trance before she redirected her attention to Matt, “I’m thinking teams, you and me versus her and Ryan.
When Matt’s already amused smile turned into a devilish grin in response to Kia’s request, you realized that both friends were on the same quest: to get their buddy laid, and oh boy, they stared at each other as if they had both stumbled across a gold mine.
As the three of you waited for Ryan to return with the drinks, you made conversation, getting to know each other before Ryan came back holding a drink and two shots. He handed Kia’s glass over before heading to you. Looking at the two shots, you realize that although you’d never seen shots like them before, they looked delicious. They were a beautiful shade of brown that you were sure was some kind of whiskey or bourbon, topped off with whipped cream. Ryan smiled as he returned, noting your curiosity. However, as Matt’s gaze also fell on the shots he began laughing.
“Dude, no way you still ordered them,” he turned to you, “they have a crazy name, but I promise they’re great.”
Looking down at the drinks himself, Ryan suddenly looked surprised followed by a bit of bashfulness, “Shit. I didn’t even think of that,” He spoke as if he made some kind of mistake before he sighed, “Me and Matt always order these to start off the night, and I honestly didn’t think anything of it until now, but,” he said, pausing once again, hesitant to say their title out loud, “It’s called a ‘Blow Job’ shot, I promise I didn’t mean it to be weird though, I swear.”
Matt and Kia’s small, and hidden chuckles had turned louder at hearing Ryan admit such a thing aloud.
Ryan ignored them and continued, “You know what? Me and Matt can just take them and I can go grab you another shot-”
You cut him off, finding his embarrassment cute, “No, I’ll take it with you. What is that? Whiskey? It’s St. Patrick’s Day so it’s perfect.”
“Close, it’s Irish Cream Liquor.”
“Even better.”
The two of you shared a smile and readied yourselves to take the shots as Kia pulled Matt away to grab cues as well as give the two of you some space. As you and Ryan threw back the shots, you could tell that he was much more tolerant of the taste of liquor than you. While you tried your best not to cough, he swallowed the liquid in stride. Even despite the burn, Matt was right, the shot was easily one of the best you’ve had. The liquor itself was smooth, and when mixed with the whipped cream evened out the strength of the liquid.
Looking at you, he smirked, turning towards you silently. As one hand reached to lightly grab your cheek, you once again felt a blush creep to where his palm held you. He tilted your chin upwards and brought the thumb of his other hand up to your lip, swiping away some leftover whipped cream, before bringing the sweet foam to his mouth.
“Couldn’t have you walking around looking like a mess.”
All you could whisper out while still stunned was a humble, “Oh, thanks.”
As Kia and Matt got back the game started and you found out very quickly that Ryan was much better at pool than you were. You didn’t want him to feel like he was carrying you, but there wasn’t much else of another choice given the circumstances. In fact, you and yet to get a single ball in besides the one you happened to pocket while doing the breakout.
“What?” Matt said dramatically, “Boo, that was just a lucky shot.”
Before you could answer, Ryan spoke, “You haven’t seen anything yet, man, but even if it were, that just means she has the luck of the Irish on her side.”
You laughed, “It really was just luck, but I appreciate it, Ryan.”
Regardless of the level difference, Ryan seemed like he was having a great time, especially when he started giving you tips. It started with him telling you which ball you should go for, but it slowly progressed to more intricate teaching: showing you how you could make better aim by adjusting your grip, showing you how hitting different parts of the sphere will completely change how the ball travels before and after collision, and after another drink, he even begun to show you a more ‘hands-on version’ of his teaching methods.
The second Ryan had slid behind you to change the way you held the cue, there wasn’t anything else in the world that mattered to you, let alone some silly game. You couldn’t care less if you missed completely, guttering the eight ball, if you could get Ryan to hold you like that forever, you’d do anything. His strong hands fell lightly against your delicate fingers, surprising you with a gentleness you’d never felt before from a man. The feeling was new and intoxicating; to have a man pressed up against you dominatingly, yet with the same caution in which you’d carry a glass full to the brim; just close enough where you could feel the heat radiating off his body, but just far enough away to keep you wanting more. The act of him teaching you was so intimate that there were long periods where you couldn’t even breathe in fear of scaring him away. As he bent you over to make the shot, you felt his hardening cock just barely brush against you, and you knew that with one more drink, you too would have the guts to do more than just ‘accidentally’ brush your ass up against it while attempting to make the shot.
Although you managed to hit the ball with enough force and in the right direction, it just barely rolled by the pocket, hitting the wall and ricocheting in the other direction. You sighed in defeat, sure, you didn’t really care about the match, but you didn’t exactly want to disappoint Ryan either; however, when you turned to him to apologize, he wore an excited grin.
“See! You’re getting better! That really wasn’t bad, I promise.” He said with honesty in his voice.
Looking at him, giving you the most ‘proud dad’ pep talk you’d ever experienced, you couldn't help but feel pride in yourself even if you had missed.
As the match went on, it got more and more heated; you would miss, but then Kia would get one, or Matt would miss, but Ryan would get one. It felt like every second, the tension between you and Ryan seemed to build and crackle in the air, adding an electrifying edge to the game. Each missed shot or successful pot would heighten the connection between the two of you, the competitive spirit fueling an undeniable chemistry. Each turn, your eyes would meet, sparks flying as you focused on the game but couldn't ignore the growing attraction between you. Ryan's smile was charming, his confidence infectious, and you couldn't help but be drawn to him more and more with each passing moment.
Every time one of your opponents balls would fall into the pocket from the field, the stakes would make you a bit more anxious; however, not in terms of winning or losing, but in the fear of disappointing Ryan.
Finally, there was only the 8 left in the field. The final shot loomed ahead, and as you lined up your cue, you could feel Ryan's eyes on you, a silent challenge and invitation all in one.
Finding the tension to be too much, you put down the cue and apologetically looked up to Ryan, "I'm sorry, Ryan, but I'd feel more comfortable if you took the final shot. I don't want to lose it for us."
With a soft smile, he reached out to gently place a hand on your arm, his touch reassuring and warm, "Nope, I want you to take the final shot," he pointed at his friend, "Go show Matt that the first point wasn't luck. I know you can."
When you turned to meet his gaze, you realized he was now finally close enough where you could see into his eyes; they twinkled with warmth, and between the shades of brown were gold engravings like strings of honey embroidering his irises. He had, perhaps, the most beautiful eyes you had ever seen. Your breath caught in your chest and you were sure your heart skipped a beat as you tried to answer, but oh god all you could see was the same sunset you had been entranced by earlier, now holding you by the throat, making you beg for air; you wanted nothing more than for him to make you beg for air.
His words were genuine, and as you met his gaze, you could see the sincerity in his eyes. It wasn't about winning or losing for Ryan; it was about the connection that had grown between you throughout the game.
With a deep breath, you steadied your hand on the cue, feeling a surge of determination fueled by Ryan's unwavering support. As you took the shot, the cue ball glided smoothly across the table, striking the final ball with precision. And with a satisfying clack, the ball rolled into the pocket, sealing your victory.
A surge of exhilaration coursed through you, electrifying every nerve in your body. The satisfaction of victory mingled with the pulsating energy that had been building between you and Ryan throughout the intense pool match. You couldn't contain the joy that bubbled up inside you, and before you could even fully process the win, a delighted squeal escaped your lips.
In a split second, you found yourself launching into Ryan's arms, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins, your heart beating rapidly with a heady mix of triumph and something more, something unspoken but palpable. His strong arms wrapped around you in a secure embrace, and you felt a rush of warmth and comfort enveloping you. The scent of his cologne, a subtle mix of spice and musk, filled your senses, adding to the intoxicating moment.
Ryan's laughter rang out, a melodic sound that harmonized with the joyous rhythm of your own. His hold on you was firm yet gentle, a silent reassurance that spoke volumes without the need for words. In that embrace, time seemed to stand still, the world around you fading into the background as you relished the closeness between you and Ryan, the shared triumph binding you together in a moment of pure connection.
As you slowly pulled back from the embrace, a flush of warmth tinged your cheeks, a shy smile tugging at the corners of your lips. The air between you crackled with unspoken tension, the victory on the pool table only amplifying the magnetic pull that seemed to draw you closer to Ryan with each passing moment.
Ryan, breaking the eye contact between the two of you turned to Matt, "She tried to tell you it wasn't luck, man. Maybe next time."
Neither Matt nor Kia could be upset they lost after seeing how happy it had made you and how close it had brought you and Ryan.
"Well, next time will have to wait," Kia cuts in, "Me and Matt were just talking about how tired we're getting so the two of you are free to start another round, but we were planning on sharing an Uber to head back to our apartments."
As Kia and Matt bid their goodbyes, a sense of anticipation fluttered within you, thankful for the chance to have some alone time with Ryan. The air seemed to hum with newfound energy as you and Ryan settled back at the bar, the soft glow of the lights casting a warm ambiance around you; the clinking of glasses and murmurs of other patrons faded into the background of your conversation and the room around you blurred as you found yourselves lost in each other's company.
"You know, I haven't really liked St. Patrick's Day these last few years," you said to Ryan.
"Why not?"
"I don't know, but it probably has to do with this one stupid wish I had when I was young that I figured I’d fulfill by now.”
Ryan cocked his head at you, curious, "It couldn't be that stupid. When I was young, I believed I was the most talented person at my school's talent show for being able to lay my back on the ground from a kneeling position, meanwhile, other kids were playing the guitar and shit."
You laughed continuing, "I suppose it wasn't that bad, but it's still pretty unnecessary," you watched Ryan nodding at you to continue, "I always wanted to travel to Ireland for St. Patrick's Day and kiss an Irish guy."
Now, it was Ryan's turn to laugh, "No! That's like a cute thing to want as a kid compared to the kind of stuff I wanted at that age. I just wish I could grant that wish for little you, and maybe I can one day, but for now, I hope this’ll suffice."
Suddenly, Ryan reached his hand up to your cheek, just as he had done earlier, gently rubbing your skin with his thumb once as if to ask for permission before leaning in to meet your lips. The feeling of his lips on yours was soft and sweet, bringing a blush to the apples of your cheeks with each stroke of his thumb against your face. The tenderness of his touch sent shivers running through your frame; the electricity of his touch made goosebumps form under your skin, igniting sensations that you weren't quite familiar with. You were suddenly struck with a wave of desire for his body to press closer to yours, the smell of his cologne mixing with the faint taste of shots you had taken together. As if reading your mind, Ryan placed his free hand on the small of your back pulling you even closer, your body now flush against each other as he deepened the kiss by sliding the hand that sat on your cheek, to the back of your head, lightly holding you. A low moan rumbled through your throat, your tongue brushing gently against his lips in a brief caress before pulling away to catch your breath. As you pulled away, you noticed his shirt and finally realized exactly what he meant when he said that he hoped the kiss would suffice; 'Kiss me, I'm Irish'. Pausing for just a moment in silence, the two of you made eye contact again and began to laugh.
With a playful grin, he asked, "Was that close enough to your dream for now?"
"Works for me," you whispered softly.
As Ryan pulled your face toward him again for another passionate kiss, this time pausing to giggle between the moments your lips touched.
"Do you wanna get out of here?" He asked you, causing you to nod and blush.
The two of you talked more as you waited for the Uber back to his house. After several minutes, he stopped you with a gentle nudge towards the door. With a soft smile, he kissed you, pressing his lips firmly against yours for a long moment before releasing you, "Ready?"
Your breath caught in your throat at his sudden change in mood. His question was innocent, but somehow, you knew he wasn't asking about the ride home; you kissed him back before following him to the car.
The soft hum of the car engine filled the air as you sat next to Ryan, the gentle vibrations from the vehicle mingling with the pulsating energy that seemed to radiate between the two of you. His touch was warm against your thigh, the circles he traced with his thumb sending a rush of tingling sensation through your body. You couldn't help but bite your lip, a mix of nervous excitement and anticipation building within you. The fact Ryan kept a playful conversation with you as you struggled not to moan from his touch kept a fun rather than serious air in the car that made you less nervous for whatever would come of the night.
As the Uber pulled up to Ryan's house, you couldn't help but giggle at his drunken insistence on opening the car door for you. His attempts were charmingly clumsy, but you appreciated the gesture nonetheless. The moment he fumbled with the keys to unlock his front door, a wave of anticipation washed over you both, fueling a mix of laughter and desire.
Once inside, the playful atmosphere between the two of you intensified, and amidst shared laughter, your lips found each other in a heated embrace. The sounds of clothes being shed filled the air, punctuated by breathless sighs and soft moans, as desire gave way to a primal need for each other's touch. The warmth of his skin against yours, the urgent press of his body against yours, sent shivers of pleasure down your spine, heightening the intensity of the moment.
In the midst of passion, laughter mingled with whispers of desire, creating a symphony of shared pleasure and connection. The world outside, including your past, faded away, leaving only the two of you entwined in a dance of intimacy and raw emotion, lost in the moment of mutual desire and unbridled passion. Leading you to the bed between kisses, you fell onto the side, leaving you beneath him. The soft glow of Ryan's bedroom lighting illuminated his silhouette, his hair mussed and disheveled as he leaned over you. He ran a hand through his hair, brushing back strands of stray loose curls.
He looked at you in complete adoration, "You're gorgeous, Y/N. I'm so glad I met you tonight."
You smiled shyly, a blush spreading across your features, "So am I."
His hands trailed along your skin, trailing over your hips and legs, before settling on your hips and kneeling on the floor so he was beneath you instead now, between your legs. Without hesitation, his mouth met your inner thigh, leaving light kisses on top of any hickies he’d leave, drunkenly tickling you gently with his lips and breath, keeping the mood light and lively.
As he moved lower, he looked up at you one more time. Meeting his gaze, you saw that his once brown and golden-speckled eyes were now dark with lust.
"Is this okay?" He managed to whisper up to you.
You nodded at him, "Please."
He laughed, "Thank god," that was all the permission he needed to lift one of your legs, throwing it over his shoulder, and pulling your hips toward him.
The movement was so quick and surprising to you that you squealed and giggled, "Ryan, slow down!"
He chuckled, "Sorry love, but I've been wanting to taste you since the moment I laid eyes on you."
You continued to giggle until you felt him begin to tease your core with his tongue, sending tremors throughout your entire body as his warm breath fanned across your sensitive flesh. He began to slowly lick at your center as you let out small cries of pleasure, unable to contain yourself, yet enjoying every second of the experience nonetheless. Your heart thumped rapidly, beating faster than ever as he pleasured you with his mouth. As much as your body ached for more, the thought of stopping caused you to feel embarrassed.
"Jesus Christ, Ryan! Where'd you learn to do this?" You asked between moans, "Fuck, Ryan that feels so good."
Bringing his hand to your clit he rubbed slow circles and lifted his head. The sudden break in such intense pleasure was equally relieving and disappointing and you tried to swallow your whines.
"Give a thirsty man water and he lasts a day. Teach a man how to be a munch and he'll never be thirsty again," He said in slurred speech giving you a lopsided grin.
"Ryan, that's not a saying. Isn’t it something about fishing?" You laughed.
He shrugged in response, slipping the fingers that were on you inside your pussy, and he placed his mouth around your clit. With that, you felt yourself start to become dizzy with arousal, your breaths becoming shallow and uneven. You felt his fingers continue to work their magic, making your whole body quake from the intense pleasurable feelings they brought you. You couldn't help but latch your fingers into his hair as your hips bucked up slightly off the bed. You cried out in pleasure as you felt him push a third finger in without missing a beat. In your current drunken state of both liquor and pleasure, the moment felt as if you were having a dream. Every stroke of his fingers in your most sensitive places felt like an assault on your senses, and soon enough, you were moaning and groaning at each stroke on the edge of orgasm. A high-pitched noise escaped your throat and you clenched your thighs tightly, trying hard to stay quiet. Ryan smirked against your cunt, knowing what his tongue did to you, as you shook with your release.
As you lay on your back panting, trying to breathe normally as Ryan rubbed kind circles into your thigh, "Think you can give me another? This time on my cock?"
Feeling a mixture of embarrassment and pleasure spread throughout you, you looked up at him, "Please, fuck me Ryan, I want to feel you inside me so bad."
He let out a chuckle, "You're cute when you take dirty, but you're even cuter when you cum."
You felt your cheeks heat up, "I'm going to change my mind if you keep teasing me."
Ryan chuckled again, "Yeah, we'll see how well that works out for you."
A wicked grin crept its way across his face and you watched as he rose to his feet. As he reached for his waistband, you waited in anticipation to finally see his cock.
As his dick started to emerge from his jeans, the sight caused you to gasp, "Oh my God!"
"What's wrong?"
"You're fucking huge, Ryan. That's what's wrong!"
"Oh, that's it?" he laughed, "What? You think you can't take it?" he teased you, his voice dropping low as crawled onto the bed taking your nipple between his teeth, sucking lightly.
A loud moan escaped you as you tilted your head backward. His mouth quickly moved to your other breast, taking them into his mouth as well.
"Well, can you take it or not, princess?" He smiles up at you.
You took a deep breath as you looked down at him. There was nothing else but pure lust and desire shining in his eyes and the devilish smirk plastered across his face made your knees weak with anticipation.
"Are you always such a teasing shithead?"
"You'll get used to it, I promise."
"Your huge cock or your teasing?"
"Both, but we can worry about my cock later if you’re not ready to fuck tonight, obviously."
"No," you replied, completely forgetting any fear you once had towards this moment, "I want to do this."
Ryan smiled up at you before pulling himself up, reaching down for your legs and once again raising them above his shoulders. Seeing his muscled body above you was enough to make you cum alone, his broad shoulders as the perfect platform for your ankles. You watched in anticipation as Ryan lined himself up with your entrance. He stopped, waiting for your nod before entering you slowly, his length stretching and filling you fully. It had only been hours since you met him, yet the feeling seemed almost familiar, like something you'd done a hundred times before and would do a hundred times more. A small smile formed on your lips as you closed your eyes, enjoying the blissful sensation of him filling you. You let out a deep sigh of satisfaction, relishing in the new sensation as Ryan worked his hips slowly before connecting lips and taking your bottom lip between his teeth as he moved in and out of you, creating a rhythm of gentle thrusting.
"Ryan..." You breathed, "Fuck..."
He smiled against your lips, his eyes locked on yours as he began to move faster, harder. Your own breathing became labored and you felt yourself coming closer to release, your orgasm already building just as he pushed harder within you.
He let go of your lip, kissing and licking his way up to your earlobe where he sucked and nipped at it. You could feel his cock pulsating against your cervix, going deeper with each thrust.
He pulled away from your ear and whispered, "You sound so close, why don't you cum for me, baby?"
You let out a cry as your body tensed up and you came undone on his dick. The sound echoed through the room causing him to pull out as he came as well, unloading onto your stomach and tits.
"I told you you'd get used to it," Ryan chuckled.
You sat up slowly, looking down at the mess you both made, "God, you are such a dickhead."
"Honestly, not the worst thing I've been told after sex. Not to mention, you seem to like dickheads quite some, so as far as I'm concerned, I'm still on your good side."
It wasn't long before he rolled off the bed, disappearing into the bathroom. After a moment, he returned with wet wipes, kissing your stomach and tits softly between wipes.
I will be writing again! I’ll still take free requests for supermega, but now I’ll also be taking commissions for other characters!! There’s a discount if I’m familiar with the characters too!
Also, would you all be interested in a Patreon where I release works before I release them on here, including all the chapters I’ve finished of ‘For 18$ More’? It would be super cheap like $5 a month or something, and maybe I’d make higher tiers where you get a free commission every month.
Hey guys, sorry, but no update today! I instead took the week to rewrite the last chapter and fix some awkwardness and plot holes and stuff, but I’m already working on the next chapter so you can probably expect that within the next few days! Thank you for the support so far, and I highly recommend either rereading or at least skimming through chapter 3 again so you’re aware of any changes. Once again, so sorry, and next chapter out soon!!
normalize pubic hair in fanfiction you fucking cowards you’re all out here writing historical fics where they rawdog quite literally w perfectly shaved coochies!!!! like bitch??? Do you think they had the time!! or the money???????? do u really think ur pirate queen oc had the desire to shave her pubes??? No!!!!!
fanfic is this brutal cycle where we produce content that’s self-projected idealized images of ourselves (whether subconscious or not), which can be great for coping!!! but then also 9 times out of 10 those images are harmful af bc our mentally ill asses hold ourselves to unrealistic standards since we’re constantly having said unrealistic standards shoved down our throats by the very media we consume that inspires the content we make!!! So!!!! Our self-projected coping is actually continuing to promote these unobtainable ideals both to ourselves and to the others that consume the content we create!!!!!!!!!!!!
all i’m saying is that we’re absolutely making progress with demanding more realistic images in media and encouraging content creators in fandom to be more inclusive (especially with reader insert fics!!) but we still got some ways to go—myself included
so many of us are supportive of the fact that the human body has hair and folds and stretch marks and a zillion other things that get airbrushed out of the media but in the sense of like “it’s great for others but it’s ugly on me” like bbys when you reblog those body positivity posts u gotta remember that they apply to you just as much as others
in conclusion your faves have body hair and so do you and so do i and even if i shave i get stubble and so do you and so do your faves and that’s okay and that’s literally just one example out of about a billion
matt watsons hands ….watson…hands ….finge-his hands i mean his hands i dont know how to finish this request you know what i mean
I know exactly what you mean
Friday Nights
| Minors DNI | 18+ only |
2.4K words
Summary: You and your best friend Matt Watson are hanging out until he challenges you to a round of Super Smash Bros. After you lose horribly, he tries to teach you his ways, but you just can’t get yourself to focus when his fingers are gripping you so perfectly.
Warnings: smut, nsfw, cursing, oral (afab receiving), penetration, teasing, praise
a/n: this one goes out to all you Matt girlies out there <33 You can also find my stuff on a03 at lavender_creame
Friday night meant movie night for you and your best friend, Matt. Usually, however, after the first 20 minutes or so, the two of you wouldn’t focus much on the movie, finding each other’s company more entertaining. Something about sitting across from Matt, each of you on opposite ends of the couch facing each other, giggling until the early hours of the morning, just seemed to make more sense to you than sitting silently next to each other for 2 hours. Tonight was no different, of course, and an hour into ‘Ferris Bueller’s Day Off’, which by the way you guys had already attempted to watch once, but got distracted the first time, you and Matt had fallen into a playfully competitive argument.
“I don’t care if it’s been years since I’ve played, I’d still beat you, no problem,” Matt said with overwhelming self-assurance.
You scoffed, “You were just as confident like 2 weeks ago when I mentioned ‘Mario Kart’, and then you got your ass whooped.”
“This is different, though!” He said, stretching his long legs out across the couch far enough to reach you. “I’m like actually good at ‘Super Smash Bros’!”
You pushed his feet away from your crossed legs. “I think you’re greatly overestimating your abilities.”
“You know what? Fine.”
Matt stood up and walked away from the couch, crouching by a shelf. He was thumbing through his ‘Switch’ games.
“Oh god, Matt. Don’t tell me you’re actually going to try to beat me.”
“No, I’m not going to try to beat you,” he paused as he tossed a controller your way with a smirk and a wink. “I am going to beat you.”
You fumbled with the remote before catching it. The way he spoke sent shivers up your spine. You pretended like you hated it, but in reality, you loved it when he was cocky like this; a faint blush reached your cheeks. As Matt found his way back to the couch, he once again stretched out, his long limbs taking up the entire space.
“Fuck it, I’m sitting on the floor. I can’t deal with you anymore.”
You stood up, leaving Matt to all the room he could ever want.
Matt pouted, “What? No, you could have stayed up here.”
Shaking your head, you got comfy below him. “Nope. Start the game already so I can beat your ass and we can turn back on the movie.”
He groaned, clicking past the main title screen.
It’d been a while since you played Super Smash Bros as well, and you weren’t quite used to the tiny switch controllers, but you were still sure that you were better than your best friend. You watched as he set the rules to 3 lives and no items.
‘Shit he’s really taking this seriously’
You picked Zero Suit Samus and he, of course, picked Yoshi.
You rolled your eyes, catching Matt’s attention.
“What?” He asked with a knowing grin.
“Yoshi? Really?”
“It was either that or Luigi.”
“Oh my god.”
He laughed as you sat below him, fidgeting with your controller to change the outfit of your character. Despite being friends for so long, the two of you never played Smash together before, you had just never thought about it. In the games you had played him in though, he tended to be pretty shit at, so you figured this would be the same, but you got an odd feeling watching him. Sure, Matt was a cocky person, but this was confidence, and you only saw him like this when he was genuine. Your eyes lingered on his face for a moment, how perfectly his eyes glowed in excitement. The way the dim light hit his hair, highlighting his bleach blond hair; you realized you should stop staring. You glanced at the screen and quickly turned your attention to his character, he just had to pick a character as annoying to play against as Yoshi?
You took a deep breath as the countdown started, ready to beat his ass into oblivion- within seconds, you were thrown off the edge.
You were stunned.
As you respawned, he attacked you again, however, this time you managed to dodge it before, Matt grinned smugly attacking you again, knocking your damage all the way up to the 80s. Matt's damage on the other hand was at a solid 13% and you couldn't do more than stun him a few times and get a couple of kicks in.
Needless to say, the match was over pretty fast, much faster than you could process it.
With a triumphant smile, Matt leaned forward on the cushion of your couch as the victory screen rolled over, showing Yoshi standing proud on the screen and Zero Suit clapping in second place.
"See? What did I tell you? Easy."
Matt laughed as you stared up at him, trying to wrap your head around your loss.
"Don't worry, here." He went back to the character selection screen. "I'll go easy on you now and we'll add items, I just wanted to show you up once."
"How did you do that?" You asked, turning and looking up at him.
There was awe in your tone, and you knew he knew it, too.
"I play Smash Online when I get bored sometimes, or at least I used to. It's definitely been a while."
"Oh." You all but whispered. You weren't sure how you didn't know this about your best friend, you noticed that he tended to play games that aren't really competitive, but at the end of the day, it didn't surprise you that much. Matt did have a competitive side, so it made sense that he'd have at least one game where he could be that part of himself.
Matt noticed your expression. He smiled softly at you.
"Here, I'll help you out."
He quickly used his controller to change his character to an NPC and stood up from the couch.
"What are you doing?" You asked him, now raising your eyebrow in confusion.
He slid behind you, sitting so you were in between his legs and his chest was to your back. He wrapped his hands around yours, choosing your character for you. His hands were warm against yours and you watched as his long fingers curled around the small controller. His hands fit comfortably around yours and your heart felt like it skipped a beat as you focused solely on those strong fingers holding your own.
"I'm showing you how to actually play, duh."
As he spoke, you could feel his hot breath on your neck; you were frozen in place, unable to respond to the sudden contact.
‘This is normal, Matt is my best friend and best friends help each other’
After a few moments, you finally managed to move your fingers in response to his touch. He continued his demonstration, pointing out the buttons you should use and explaining what you did that made you lose, but you were barely listening. His fingers moved carefully along your skin every so often; every touch electrifying your body, causing you to slightly tense as he demonstrated different moves.
"Alright, now you try," Matt said after several minutes, releasing your hands.
You felt your breath catch as his left hand moved back to his side of the couch, resting casually there as his right one rested on your bare thigh below where your pajama shorts stopped.
'He has to know what he's doing, there's no way he doesn't'
Your fingers moved hesitantly over the buttons for a few moments before Matt said “Go ahead” assuringly and you pressed play.
You maneuvered your character, trying to focus on the buttons instead of how close Matt was to you, but it became more and more difficult every time Matt’s hand moved.
You heard him chuckle beside you, which only served to make you more nervous.
“You okay?” He mused, moving his hand that was resting on the couch to place it on top of yours to press a button for you.
“Your fingers seem kinda shaky.”
“They do?” you responded nervously.
“Yeah… Are they cold? I don’t think your hands are supposed to be this cold.”
You shook your head, “I’m fine,”
He chuckled again, rubbing his thumb across your hand in small circles as he did. You tried to ignore the butterflies that were fluttering around inside of you.
“Are you sure?” He teased, his gaze dropping to where his hand rested on your thigh.
"Your leg is pretty cold too now that I think about it."
He rubbed his thumb across the soft skin of your inner thigh. You could feel your heart racing as you waited for him to speak; you wondered if you should move away, but at the same time you didn’t want to.
“Hey Y/N,” Matt breathed, his voice low and husky.
You couldn’t help but to lean closer to him, a shiver running through your body.
“I don’t want to play anymore.”
You swallowed thickly, unsure of what to say.
His hand that sat on yours lightly dragged up your neck and to your chin, turning it towards his.
"Is this okay?" You could feel his whispered breath on the skin of your cheek.
You nodded, unable to speak.
His lips brushed against yours gently and slowly and you melted into it, closing your eyes and leaning into the kiss. His long fingers stayed holding your chin, tilting your head for you.
Matt pulled back after a few seconds, pressing his forehead against yours as you both sighed in relief.
“Can I kiss you again?” He asked, a smirk forming on his face.
You nodded eagerly, "please," was all you could say.
Bringing your hands up to cup his face, your fingers brushing against his cheeks. Matt kissed you again softly, and his hands cupped your face, pulling your bodies flush together as he moved against you. You moaned softly into the kiss, pulling him even closer to deepen the kiss and he obliged you.
You broke apart for a moment just to straddle him.
He smiled up at you, letting you rest atop him. His hand moved from your jawline to your waist, the other hand now resting on the nape of your neck.
His lips met your jaw and trailed down your throat and met your collabone; you hummed appreciatively. His hands found purchase on your hips, gripping them tight as his lips found their way to your chest, trailing kisses and bites down your body. When his hand reached your stomach, he paused briefly, hovering there before continuing.
"Can I?" He whispered huskily against your chest.
"On the couch, please."
He smirked, giving you one, deep kiss before letting you stand.
As you settled onto the couch, you looked at him, who hadn't moved from the floor, with confusion.
"Matt, please don't tease me." A deep blush reached your cheeks.
You weren't surprised that he'd be one to tease, but the heat between your thighs was just getting unbearable; you wanted him.
"Don't worry about me, I'm fine down here." He said with his lopsided grin.
Before you could respond, he kneeled below you in between your legs, and hooked his arms around your thighs. As he pulled you closer to him, your shirt lifted up and he left soft kisses on your waist before pulling at your waistband and kissing your hips as he undressed you. His fingers trailed across your now bare upper body as his tongue danced against your pelvis, leaving colorful bruises that only you and he would see.
You moaned in pleasure, wriggling underneath him as he began his descent downward. Your eyes squeezed shut, feeling his mouth find the most sensitive part of your body. You gasped sharply as he took your clit into his mouth, making you shudder violently. Grabbing fistfuls of his hair, you pulled him even closer to you and felt him moan against your cunt at the sensation. He worked his tongue around your clit, his fingers sliding up to cup your breasts and you with your nipples.
You bit your lip to stifle any sounds coming from you. It wasn't fair that he could make you feel good so easily. He always seemed to know exactly what would make you fall apart. One of his hands dragged down your body, making its way to your folds.
You felt him graze your entrance and you whined at his teasing, Matt, hearing this, chuckled, pulling away from your clit and giving the bruises on your hip a gentle kiss.
"I saw you looking at my hands earlier. You'd hold your breath whenever I'd move them. Tell me, sweetheart, would you rather cum on my fingers?"
You could feel your cheeks burning and you turned away to hide your embarrassment.
Matt laughed softly.
"It's alright, babe," he said, trailing kisses up your torso, "I think it's cute."
As he left bruises on your collarbones and breasts, you whimpered for more contact, but were only met with two of his fingers slipping into your mouth to keep you quiet; you sucked on them while he worked his tongue around your nipples, the sensations making your toes curl and tears dot your eyes.
"Please, Matt." You mumbled around his fingers. "Please let me cum."
"Anything for you, sweetheart."
With that, he pulled his fingers from your mouth and slipped them inside you. You gasped, his fingers massaging your core gently.
"Oh God, Matt.."
"Good girl..."
You moaned loudly as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, no longer able to keep the sounds in.
"God, you're gorgeous…"
You whimpered again, unable to form any coherent words as he slide back down towards your cunt, taking your clit into his mouth again. As he worked his fingers, you cried out, throwing your head backward as wave after wave of pleasure washed through you.
"That's it, babe, come for me…" Matt muttered against your clit as you came undone.
As you came down from your high, Matt pulled his fingers out of you, crawling above you on the couch to kiss you deeply.
even tho I'm not a Matt Girl™ , gotta appreciate the love for him
borh those boys deserve all the love and an infinite amount of fans who think they're hot (cuz they are and they gotta stop being so insecure about their beautiful shelves!!)
Sorry for the late reply (my inbox is awful right now lol) but I totally agree!! I love Matt, but Im a Ryan girl at heart<33
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