sturniolo triplets are love sturniolo triplets are life huge smut/fic appreciator no longer a lurker! i have my own thoughts now too ;P love you all 𫶠19
includes: m!masturbation, chris getting caught, chris having sexual thoughts/fantasies, lowkey sub!chris, idk what else
it was never supposed to happen.
he was never supposed to feel this way about you. his best friend.
youâre hanging out with him, nick, and matt in their living room. the four of you are sitting on the couch, watching and commenting on the show love island. your sat next to nick, chris and matt on the other couch. chris keeps glancing over at you as if he needs to tell you something. but you donât pay any mind to it, giving him a small smile before returning your attention to the show. nick and matt are engrossed in it, acting like theyâre actually in the show and yelling at the screen.
chrisâs eyes trail over you despite how hard he tries not to let them. first, his eyes trail over your eyes. watching how they move subtly. then your lips, noticing how plump and perfect they look. how much better theyâd look wrapped around hisâ
then his eyes then go down to your cleavage. he didnât mean to be weird. he didnât want to. he didnât even want to be thinking of you like this. but he just couldnât help it. the way your tank top outlines your curves even sitting down, the way your hair falls over your shoulders, the way your boobs practically spill out of your black tank topâŠ
he swallows thickly, shifting in his seat. he forces his gaze to go back to the tv screen as he adjusts himself somewhat discreetly. he forces himself not to look at you. but itâs like your engraved in his mind right now. his breathing gets heavier and shallower. he couldnât be more grateful for the blanket covering his sweatpants.
matt looks over at chris, noticing his quietness. usually matt is quieter than chris. but not this time. âhey, yâalright?â he questions, looking chris up and down, taking note of his flushed and almost panicked state.
chris looks over at him, nodding a little too fast. âyeah, iâm just really hot.â he breathes out, shifting the blanket.
matt raises his eyebrows, not believing him but not caring enough to pry. âalright.â he mumbles, turning his attention back to the tv and giggling at nicks comments.
you glance over at chris, noticing his state too. his eyes meet yours, and he whimpers under his breath, swallowing thickly. he doesnât even care how he looks right nowâhe needs to rub one out real quick.
he stands up abruptly, adjusting his grey sweatpants as he does so. you watch him, and immediately notice the huge bulge in his sweatpants. your face flushes as you look up and see his eyes staring at you. âiâi have to use the bathroom.â chris mumbles before practically jogging out of the room, running upstairs to his bedroom. not the bathroom like he said.
âthe fuck is his deal?â matt says, looking at you and nick.
âkid probably has to shit real bad.â nick jokes, making you giggle. you turn back to watch the tv, but you canât stop thinking about what you saw. how big his bulge was, how he was breathing so heavy, how his face looked so desperate and flushedâŠ
chris goes in the bedroom, not even bothering to fully close the door. he lays on his bed, his back resting against the headboard of his bed. he lifts his hips slightly to take off his sweatpants and his boxers in one go. his hard dick slaps against his abdomen, and he hisses slightly at the feeling and the cold air hitting him.
he lays back against the bed before he slowly wraps his hand around the base of his dick. he starts slowâhe strokes himself gently, going from the base of his dick and to his tip, occasionally rubbing his thumb along his slit. he moans at the feeling of finally being able to touch himself.
he squeezes his dick slightly, adding more pressure. âoâoh fuck-â he stammers out. his hips buck instinctively, chasing the feeling.
he canât help but imagine your lips wrapped around his dick. how youâd take it all, tears streaming down your face as he repeatedly face-fucks you. how beautiful youâd look with his length down your throat, his balls slapping your chin with every rough thrust of his hips.
he gets to the tip of his dick, and runs the pad of his thumb over his slit. he shudders, his head tilting back against the headboard, his eyes squeezing shut.
âmâso closeâŠoh myâfuckââ he whines, his brows pinching together. his hips buck, practically fucking his fist now.
â
âwhere is chris? itâs been like.. five minutes.â nick comments as he looks over at you.
âi know right.â you comment, âiâm gonna check on him, actually.â you say before standing up. nick and matt just nod in response, not thinking about it too much.
but you knew what chris was doing.
you go upstairs, checking the bathroom only to see no one in there. you walk towards his room, to which you hear muffled whimpers and moans. you walk into his room, acting like you donât know heâs jerking off. youâre not sure where the confidence came from yourself, as you really only saw chris as your best friend.
âhey, chris, matt and nick wanted me to check up on yââ you begin, opening the door. you stop when you see him. the sight is even more beautiful than you couldâve imagined.
his face is so fucked out, hair messy, brows pinched together, jaw slack, panting and whimpering like a puppy.
his eyes open when he hears you, his hand never stopping its motions.
âget outâfuckââ he begins to respond, but gets interrupted by a moan. he whines, his head tilts back against the headboard. you stand there almost dumbly. he tries to cover himself, he tries to come back to reality. he really did try to stop, but the knot in his stomach is so taut.
heâs about to take his hand off of his dick. to try to act somewhat casual. but as soon as his eyes focus on youâactually focusesâhe cums right then and there uncontrollably.
he cries out, spasms taking over his body as spurts of cum cover his hand and abdomen. his hips buck as he tries to cover himself poorly. âfâfuck! get outââ he struggles to say as his eyes roll into the back of his head briefly, the feeling overwhelming but not stopping as it rushes through his body.
you step back, watching his body practically go limp as his orgasm ends. your faced is flushed, your panties soaked. âchris iâm sorryââ you begins to apologize, but he just shakes his head.
âitâs fine. just get out and donât tell anyone.â he pants, finally bringing a blanket over his lower half. you simply nod, walking back downstairs.
. . . âą ËËË EDGING ENEMY!CHRIS UNTIL HES ALL WHINY àżàŸ
âł more enemy!chris x enemy!reader here àŒâ§â
âmmpfh- just like that.. mhm..â
chrisâs head is thrown back against the wall, his hips lazily bucking up every now and then. and you? youâre on your knees in front of him, his cock shoved down your throat.
you glance up at him, letting go of his dick to stroke him, focusing on his scrunched up face. he groans.
âcmon, mouth again..â
he mumbles, glancing down at you with half lidded eyes, who are slightly glazed over in arousal. you chuckle, shaking your head in teasing disappointment before taking him in your mouth again, eyes locked on his this time.
you suck on his tip, making his hips stutter.
âah.. yeah like that..â he moans softly, hands gripping the back of your head along with your hair.
a sound escapes you, muffled due his cock in your mouth. he gives you a smirk, licking his lips as he takes in the sight of you on your knees.
âmhm.. there we go.. oâohh..â
he trails off as you take him deeper with a smirk, chris bites his lips, resting his head against the wall.
his chest is heaving up and down quicker now, his breathing growing heavier. his grip on your hair tightens, a low moan escapes him.
âfuck baby.. iâm gonnaângh..â
he moans again, and you can practically feel his wall crashing down as his voice cracks.
and thatâs the moment when you let go of him with a pop, glancing up at him innocently, a small smirk on your face.
his eyes snap open, he stares down at you, brows furrowed.
âthe fuck you doing?â he grumbles, and you shrug, the smirk never disappearing of your face. he groans, clearly frustrated.
âi was fuckinâ close, câmon..â he mumbles, holding the back of your head and pushing you forward again. but you refuse, tutting softly.
âyou should work on your manners.â
you whisper, a smile on your face. and this time a small whine escapes him, covered by a groan he lets out short after, as if that distracts you from the fact he basically whined.
you give him a fake sweet smile, shifting on your knees as your hand gives hisâstill rock hardâ dick a few slow strokes, just not enough to make him feel satisfied.
he groans, his eyes squeezing shut. his hand, that was first roughly moving through your hair, now has seemed to slowed down, his touch more gentle than first.
you smirk to yourself, knowing his wall is crumbling more and more, a slight crack appearing in his ego.
âcâmonâŠâ he whispers, hips bucking forward. the sight is almost pathetic, and it makes you stiffle a laugh.
your hand slows down even more on his cock, which is leaking precum, needing attention.
he whines. âgod please.. please..â he whispers the last word like a plea, his voice cracking for the first time ever.
and you canât help but squeeze your legs together as you look at his state, his face that is normally scrunched together in a scoff, is now flushed, brows knitted together.
you lean forward and take him in your mouth again, causing a strangled moan to escape chris.
âf-fuckâŠâ
you hum around his cock, bobbing your head up and down faster. he moans once again, hips bucking forward as he throws his head back.
after a short moment, his breathing quickens again, his mouth agape in an O shape.
âgonnaâ gonnaââ he pants out, his back arched slightly. and instead of giving him the satisfaction he wants, you simply remove your mouth from his dick once again, smiling up at him evilly.
chris whimpers in response, his usual dominance completely vanished into thin air. his dick throbs in need as he glances down at you with half lidded eyes.
and you donât have to tell him anything, because he frowns slightly in need, his voice coming out strained.
âplease⊠more..â
an almost proud smile curls at the corners of your lips. itâs rare to see chris like this, so vulnerable, so needy.
it makes you even wetter than youâd like to admit, so when the boy whines once again, whimpering something about âneeding thisâ, you decide to take him back in your mouth, sucking him off again and letting him reach his release.
but not before edging him one last time, just for your own amusement.
a/n another request :) hope this is good enough đ it got kinda sloppy towards the end im sorryyy
â ïžïž1.3k+ words, nsfw, first time handjob, shower scene, virgin matt, gentle reader.
summary: a week after your first step, you return to mattâs house only to realize heâs been eagerly waiting to continue your promise of ânext timeâ
part 1
itâs been a week since that night. the night when matt finally confessed his absolute virginity and inexperience. the night when you two took the first step.
you couldnât stop thinking about the way he looked under you, cumming in his pants whilst clinging onto you and moaning your name.
youâre stood outside mattâs front door when you notice his silhouette pacing through the living room curtains. before you can even bring your knuckles to the door, it swings open.
âyouâre here! thatâs- good. thatâs really goodâ he grins immediately before stepping to the side to let you inside.
as you kick off your shoes, matt starts rambling about his day. you catch his wrists mid air as he gestures towards the kitchen for no reason. his pulse is thumping under your fingers.
"okay, what's with you?" you laugh. his eyes dart to the ceiling, then the floor, anywhere but you. "did you have a red bull or something?"
"nothing! i'm just... normal, i swear" he insists, but you don't miss the way he tugs at the sleeves of his sweater nervously. the same sweater he wore last week.
once you actually make it to matt's bedroom, you jump flat onto his familiar mattress, sinking into the sheets. the clean smell of laundry detergent fills your nostrils, like he washed them just before you arrived. you stretch out, propping yourself on your elbows. "so, what are we watching? something scary? or are you in the mood for-"
matt's head whips around so fast you can almost hear the air crack.
"i thought we were getting naked?"
the words hang there, raw and honest. an innocent, confused look plasters his face until his eyes widen, like his brain just caught up with his mouth. "fuck, i mean-"
you stare at him, slightly caught off guard, as everything you said clicks back into place.
'and maybe next time... without all the clothes in the way?'
"oh, matt" you breathe out with a gentle smile.
he won't look at you now. he's completely mortified with the words that he let slip out of his mouth. "i didn't mean- i just- you said next time, and it is next time so i just thought..."
"hey, look," you start as you get up to pry his hands away from his flushed face. you bite your lip to stop the laugh that's threatening to come out. "i do want to, believe me, it just slipped my mind... and i didn't expect you to take 'next time' so literally"
he smiles sheepishly, a pink warmth creeping up his neck. "sorry, i just got excited. was i not meant to bring it up?"
"you've been obsessing over this all week, haven't you?" you smirk teasingly. "but just remember i'm not rushing you, i'm ready whenever you are."
i can basically see the cogs turning in his head, his eyebrows knitting together. "i'm ready today...like, now"
the way he says it, half bracing for rejection and half needy, surprises you. he's so forward today. you nod nonetheless, agreeing with his proposal.
for a while you both just stand in the middle of his room, staring at each other like you don't quite believe what you've just agreed to. the silence is deafeningly awkward.
matt's voice drops lower, oddly serious as he gestures between the both of you. "so uh... who goes first?"
"first?" you frown, confused.
"y'know, like who's gonna get naked first? is there like a rule, do i have to? cause honestly i would prefer if you went first but.." the question hangs there, so painfully earnest that you have to seal your lips to suppress a smirk.
a snort escapes your mouth and you shake your head. "do you really expect me to just stand in your bedroom naked?"
"oh, no- fuck, i don't know-" he stammers in a panic, looking to the floor.
"c'mon," you start, grabbing his wrists and leading him towards the bathroom. your thumb brushes reassuringly over his racing pulse. "how about we have a shower?"
"shower?" matt asks, completely bewildered. he sniffs the air like he's checking for something then stiffens. "wait-why? do i smell? do you smell?"
you burst out in a fit of giggles, leaning in so your lips graze his ear. "no idiot, i meant together"
"ohhh," his sighs in realisation before his breath hitches. "oh."
when you're in the bathroom you immediately start undressing without a hint of hesitation, though your heart is racing. you're halfway out your jeans when you realise matt hasn't moved an inch, he's just standing there entranced, fingers twitching at his sides.
"a little help?" you ask, breaking the silence, nodding towards the shower controls.
his gaze drags up and down your body, mouth slightly agape before he jolts like he's been shocked. "fuck-! not objectifying you, i swear!"
his hands reach to fumble with the shower dial, making sure the temperature is just right.
you step into the shower first letting the heat massage your tense shoulders. you look back towards matt who is still stood mesmerised, pupils clearly focussed below your face. "you coming?"
he simply nods, like he doesn't trust himself to speak right now, before slowly pulling his sweater and shirt off together. his jeans tangle themselves around his ankles and he almost faceplants trying to kick them off. when he finally stands, completely bare, his cock springs free. stiff. already leaking.
you don't mean to stare, but fuck. it's hard not to when it's so thick, flushed pink and twitches when you bite your lip. "you've been hiding that from me this whole time?"
he rolls his eyes, almost wanting to cover himself out of embarrassment. when he finally joins you in the steam filled shower, you can't help but reach out to drag your fingertips over his hipbone, his hips jerking forward in retaliation and goosebumps coating his body.
"you okay?" you ask, purposefully inching a little closer so your spiked nipples brush his chest.
he swallows nervously, eyes tracing your hands every move over his body. "yeah just- fuck, i don't know what to do with my hands"
instantly, your hands find his, guiding them to your waist. "start here,"
the smooth pads of his fingers hesitantly venture up your torso before reaching the undersides of your breasts. he looks up at you with them large, desperate blue eyes, silently asking for permission.
the second you agree, his palms finally cup you, kneading experimentally. the way he touches you, reverent, almost awed makes your stomach twist. he's staring at his own hands like he can't believe they're allowed there. you almost miss the quiet whisper under his breath, "they're so fucking soft".
youâre digits slide through his dripping hair, scratching his scalp to make his eyes flutter shut. the more needy he gets, the more his hips jerks, cock bumping against your thigh.
you bring your free hand down to his crotch, gently cupping his balls. âis this okay.?â
the strangled groan that tears through his throat tells you itâs more than okay. precum beads at his tip so you swiftly smooth it down his length, feeling the veins pulsing under your thumb.
when you finally start to stroke slowly, his knees actually buckle and you have to grab his shoulders to steady him. a teasing grin spreads over your face. âyou good?â
âholy shit- holy shit,â he babbles, forehead dropping to your shoulder with a broken moan which goes straight to your core.
your hand speeds up itâs pumping, matching the pace at which heâs thrusting into it, chasing friction. heâs breathing like heâs just ran a marathon yet he still tries to place wet kisses to your collarbone.
his hands scramble to your back, blunt nails dragging down your spine. you can tell how close he is from the way his thighs tremble.
âiâm gonna- iâm gonna-â he cuts himself off with a guttural moan, shooting spurts of thick sperm into your hand and the shower floor, which quickly runs down the drain.
the both of you just stand there for a couple minutes, letting matt catch his breath and clear his head as the warm water cleans away his sweat.
a/n: guess whoâs back đđ. this genuinely was so hard for me to get motivated to continue, but i love you all! if you wanna be added or taken away from this taglist just say cause i know my last inexperienced!matt post was a while ago.
summary: after six months of only kissing, you finally make a move on matt and discover that behind his confident front, heâs completely inexperienced, leading to the start of something much more intimate
youâve been dating matt for six months now, and theyâve easily been the best six months of your life.
heâs nothing like your past relationships. with matt, you can actually picture a future, and the thought of being away from him is painful.
but all you ever do is⊠kiss.
not that kissing him is something to complain about, obviously. the way his cheeks grow hot and how his hands fumble over your body is addicting. you could kiss him 24/7 if heâd let you. but still, youâre just a girl, and your body aches for more.
matt has never once initiated any more than that. youâve always assumed itâs cause heâs a very shy, awkward boy; even though he carries himself like a confident, experienced guy.
his dirty jokes and the books on his shelf that are anything but innocent would make you think heâs the kind of guy whoâs done it all before, who knows how to please a girl.
but a whole six months in with nothing more but making out? youâre starting to realise that maybe youâll have to be the one to push things forwards, which is not your usual role. youâve never made the first move.
but with matt, you want him badly enough to try.
-
the sturniolo household, mattâs bedroom and his lips against yours had become your safe space. and right now, youâre awkwardly sat cross-legged on his bed in front of him as you make out.
the kiss is quite tender and careful, like heâs scared heâll do something wrong. you can practically feel the flustered heat of his cheek against yours. he kisses like itâs all he knows, like he could live off of it. maybe thatâs part of the problem.
the angle youâre at is so awkward, both your backs are slightly hunched over and your hands on your laps.
you decide to shift over, gently climbing into his lap to straddle his thighs. anything closer than kissing feels like heaven.
however, matt pulls back with such force that youâd think heâs been burnt. he stares at you, wide eyed and confused.
âw-what are you doing?â he laughs awkwardly, trying to hide his nervousness. âyouâve never done that.â
you blink at him, a little startled by the reaction, but laugh reassuringly. ârelax, my back was killing me, thatâs all. this is more comfortable. itâs okay right?â
he nods rapidly and clears his throat. âoh- yeah, courseâ
he eventually leans forward to kiss you again, he canât be away from your lips for too long. his hands stay planted on the sheets beside him.
youâve never been this close to matt, and itâs making heat twist low in your stomach. you deepen the kiss subconsciously and before you can second guess yourself, you roll your hips against him.
you couldnât help yourself, you wanted more and it felt too good to stop.
matt freezes, lips parted in shock. then he brings his hands to your waist hard enough to push you back a few inches.
âwhoa, stop, just- too close,â he blurts out, voice trembling.
your stomach drops. the one time you decide to make the first move, you ruin everything. âiâm sor- was that not okay?â
his jaw hesitates as he fights himself and his head shakes back and forth. âitâs not that i- itâs more than okay itâs perfect i just-â
you bring your hand to his, tracing circles with your thumb as he struggles to get his words out.
âiâve just not done anything like that before. not⊠that, not anything..â he exhales shakily.
the silence that follows is heavy, mattâs cheeks burning red as he stares down at his lap. you can see how badly he wishes he could disappear.
ââŠanything?â you whisper like itâs a secret.
he gives the tiniest, awkwardest nod, bracing himself for rejection. âyeah, nothing. youâre my first.. my first everything. i just didnât tell you cause iâm 22 with no experience what so ever, thatâs lame.â
your eyes are wide with shock, not bad shock, itâs just not expected. âwow uh- i mean thatâs okay! thatâs normal, we are just meant to tell each other these things.â
âjust- donât think itâs cause i donât wanna do more, cause i do! i really do. god, you donât even know how much i think about it..â he trails off realising the implications to his words.
you bite back a smile, because as much as your heart aches for his nerves, the confession makes warmth spread through your chest. âlook, we donât have to do everything all at once. we can just take it step by step.â
his head bobs eagerly, relief written all over his face like youâve lifted the world off his shoulders. âiâd like that. i didnât wanna have sex now⊠not saying i donât wanna have sex with you! i-iâm just not ready now⊠were you even talking about sex?â
you almost snort at his nervous blabbering, but scoot up his thighs a little more so youâre back in your original position. you lean in closer, breathing hot air against his neck. âwhat if we finish what i tried to start tonight?â
his eyes widen with panic and desire, but he eventually curves his lips up into a genuine smile and whispers, âplease,â
-
you can tell the way heâs kissing you this time is different. itâs more shaky, nervous but also thereâs more want.
âare you sure you want this? we donât have to,â you ask cautiously, but matt doesnât even respond, just trying to reattach his lips to yours.
tentatively, you roll your hips. just once, a small movement, enough to press yourself down against him. a sharp inhale escapes his throat, muffled by your mouth.
his uncertain hands hover mid air, unsure where to put them until you guide them to your waist. your voice is slightly teasing, âyou can touch me yâknow.â
âi know,â he says, feigning nonchalance. however when you grind against him, firmer this time, his fingers grip against your sides tighter.
matt jerks his hips up on instinct, then freezes, eyes wide in panic. âs-sorry, i couldnât help it-â
you cut him off with another slow grind, savouring in the way he goes completely silent and thunks his head back on the headboard. âdonât apologise, itâs perfect. donât stop.â
he obeys, attempting to follow your rhythm but it just ends up a bit eager and jerky. every time he thrusts a whine is drawn from the back of his throat which he tries to hide by biting on his wrist, but itâs not much help.
eventually, both of your paces speed up and matt can feel his dick getting stiffer in his sweats.
âgod y-you feel so good, i canât-â he repeats like heâs never felt more pleasure, but he shakes his head and refocuses on your pleasure.
âare you..do you like it?â he asks, his voice cracking at his polite attempt to ask you if youâre turned on.
you laugh softly, grabbing his hand and guiding it to the wetness of your shorts between your thighs. his breath hitches. âtrust me, iâm enjoying it.â
the knot in your belly becomes dangerously close to snapping as the friction builds. mattâs name spills out of your mouth without a second thought. âmatthew,â
his whole body jerks beneath you, pupils blown wide, and he barely chokes out, "d-don'tâŠdon't say my name, i'll cum in my pants,"
you grin, leaning forward to rest your head on his chest as you work your hips harder. âthatâs the point, genius.â
the pressure peaks, and you finally tip over the edge with a gasp and a moan that sounds too filthy for mattâs ears to be real. your thighs clamp around his hips as you ride it out.
matt watches as you cum, completely transfixed by this new sight. heâs definitely mentally screenshotting your orgasm face.
without a warning, he chokes out your name and spills his hot load into his sweats. his arms practically hug you as he shudders through it, whimpering into your neck.
for a moment neither of you move, just completely jelly against each other as you try and catch your breath.
matt breaks the silence, smiling wide like a kid on christmas. âthat was better than i could of ever imagined.â
-
youâre now both cleaned up, laying on his bed and soaking up each others heat. you glace at the clock on his nightstand and sigh, âi should probably head home, i donât wanna be driving in the dark.â
matt groans immediately, wrapping his arms tighter around you like that might keep you there. ânooo. not yet. i wanna⊠do it again.â
ânext time. weâll have plenty of time.â you say, kissing the top of his nose. you pause, letting your words sink in before adding lightly, âand maybe next time⊠without all the clothes in the way.â
his eyes widen, lighting up in a way that makes your stomach flip. âreally?â
âreally,â you promise, brushing your thumb over his flushed cheek.
he breaks into a boyish grin, filled with so much excitement you can practically feel it radiating off him. and as you finally gather your things to leave, you know mattâs already counting down the minutes until next time.
a/n- i hope this goes smoothly đŁ iâve been having problems with tumblr not showing my dividers so this better work. if you wanna be added to the inexperienced!matt taglist, just comment!!
... in which cocky!sub!chris swears he'd never whimper or beg and you try and prove him wrong
cw: subbbyyyy, whimpering, handjob, blowjob, p in v, pussy eating
âYouâre so full of yourself,â you said, hovering just close enough for him to feel your breath against his jaw.
Chris grinned like the devil. âI mean, can you blame me?â
You rolled your eyes, letting your fingertips drag slowly down his chest. âYou really think youâve got all the control, huh?â
âI know I do.â His voice dipped, cocky and confident. âIâm not like those other guys you mess with. I donât beg. I donât whimper. And I sure as hell donât give up control.â
That made you laughâlow and dangerous. âIs that a challenge?â
His eyes flicked to your mouth. âIâm just telling you whatâs real, baby.â
You stepped in closer, letting your hand slip lower, pressing over the bulge in his jeans with featherlight pressure.
Chris sucked in a breath through his noseâsharp. But his eyes were still dark and lustful.
âI could make you fall apart,â you whispered, teasing him through the denim, slow and maddening. âI could have you crying for it if I wanted to.â
He scoffedârolling his eyes. âNo chance.â
You kissed the corner of his mouth, soft and mocking. âYouâd beg me to let you come. Youâd sob when I didnât.â
Chris swallowed. You felt it. âI donât sob.â
âYou will.â
You dragged his zipper down slow. Deliberate. Let his cock spring free into your hand, already twitching, already flushed deep and leaking. His jaw clenched.
âStill think youâve got all the control?â you purred.
Chris tried to speak. Tried to say something cocky. But all that came out was a stuttering breath and the tiniest noise from the back of his throat.
You smiled.
âYouâre already whimpering.â
âIâm notââs just cause youâre holding my dickâ His thighs flexed under your grip. He looked down at you like he couldnât decide if he wanted to pick you up and flip you over or let you do whatever you wanted to himâ but he wasnât giving up easily.
You squeezed him gently, twisting your wrist the way you knew he liked.
His knees buckled.
âOh, fuckââ he gasped.
There it was. The high, soft groan he swore he didnât make. Cracked right out of his pretty mouth.
You looked up at him, all fake-innocent. âWhat was that?â
Chris shook his head, pretending it didnât happen, cheeks flushed, lips parted. âWasnât a whimper.â
You leaned in, pressed your lips to his throat, feeling the frantic pulse there, despite his cocky demeanor.
âI havenât even started yet.â
âI can take it,â he muttered, jaw clenched. âYouâre not gonna break me.â
You raised a brow. âNo?â
âIâve had worse.â
You leaned in close, your breath hot against his cheek. âMm. Youâve never had me.â
And then you sank to your knees.
Chris flinched.
His hands twitched like he wanted to grab your hair, but he didnât dare. You licked a slow stripe up the underside of his cock, deliberately slow, teasing. His hips jerked forward before he could stop them.
âAlready twitching?â you teased. âThat didnât take long.â
He let out a low, strained breath through his nose. âItâs not like youâre bad at it,â he muttered, trying to sound casual.
You smirked. âIâm better than bad.â
He didnât answer. He couldnât.
Because then you took him into your mouthâdeep, wet, slow enough to burn. His hands balled into fists at his sides, knuckles white. You watched his stomach contract, his thighs tense.
Still silent.
Still trying to win.
So you got meaner.
You hollowed your cheeks, sucked harder. Let your spit drip down his shaft as you bobbed your head, slow and relentless. You moaned around him, loud on purpose, and he whined. A barely-there breathy little gasp that gave him away.
He bit his lip. You pulled off.
âYouâre gonna bleed if you keep biting down like that,â you warned, pumping him lazily with your hand. âYou gonna cry before you come, Chris?â
His eyes were glassy. âIâm fine.â
You tilted your head. âYouâre shaking.â
âIâmâfine.â His voice cracked on the word.
You gave him one long stroke, base to tip, and his hips thrusted without meaning to.
âYouâre thrusting into my hand,â you pointed out.
He swore under his breath.
âWhatâs that? Didnât catch it.â
âFuck. You.â
You grinned. âEventually.â
And then you stood.
He looked wrecked, but still trying to keep his chin high, pretending he wasnât seconds from begging. You straddled him on the bed.Â
Then you guided him inside you in one slow, steady motion. His head thumped back against the headboard, a full-body shudder wracking him.
âOh myâfuck,â he choked.
You rolled your hips once.
He let out a moanâsharp and sweet.
Then immediately clamped a hand over his mouth, like he could stuff the sound back in.
You grabbed his wrist, pulled his hand away. âLet me hear it.â
He blinked up at you, sweat on his forehead, pupils blown wide. âI donâtââ
You clenched around him.
Chris whimpered.
The sound spilled out of himâhigh, broken, completely unlike the cocky, smug voice he usually used when he had you under him. He looked horrified the second it escaped, eyes wide like he couldnât believe heâd made that noise.
But you could. You knew this would happen.
You leaned down, lips brushing just under his ear. âThere it is.â
He shook his head weakly, like he could take it back, but you rolled your hips againâslow, grindingâand he shuddered.
âF-Fuck, stopââ he gasped, but his hands were gripping your thighs like he was the one begging you to stay.
âThought you didnât beg?â you whispered, dragging your nails lightly down his chest.
âIâm notâshitâIâm not begging.â
You clenched again, fluttering tight around him, and his whole body arched.
âYouâre trembling,â you said, smiling like you werenât seconds away from completely shattering him.
Chris tried to laugh, tried to play it off, but it came out ragged. âYouâreânnghâso full of yourself.â
âAnd youâre full of me,â you purred, dragging your hips again, slowly, rhythmically, keeping him right there on the edge.
He bit his lip. His hands were gripping you now, not for controlâbut for balance. You could feel him shaking. His jaw clenched. His abs tightening.
âYou can let go,â you whispered, cupping his jaw, tilting his head back to look at you. âYou donât have to pretend.â
Chris whimpered againâlouder this timeâand his eyes fluttered shut like he was trying to block it all out, but it was too much. You were too much. His breath was coming in shallow pants now, his whole body strung tight like a rubber band about to snap.
âYou wanna come, donât you?â
He shook his head againâreflexive, desperate.
You dragged your hips down hard once, clenching tight.
His hands flew to your waist.
âFuckâokay, okay, pleaseâdonât stopââ
Your eyes lit up.
âThere it is.â
He blinked up at you, wrecked. Face flushed, lips parted, pupils blown black. He didnât even try to talk anymoreâjust stared at you like you were the only thing holding him together.
âBeg for it,â you said, gentle. Not teasing nowâjust real. âSay it.â
He hesitated. Swallowed. And then, voice breaking:
âPleaseâplease let me comeâI need itâfuck, I need itââ
You rocked your hips once more and he sobbed, the sound spilling out like he didnât even know he was capable of it.
âOh my god, look at you,â you whispered. âFucking ruined.â
âPleaseââ His voice cracked, desperate and wrecked and real. âLet me comeâplease, I swear Iâll be goodâpleaseââ
You didnât stop moving. Not for a second. You kept that same rhythm, same pressure, tight and wet and relentless around him, riding him like your only mission was to wreck whatever pride he had left.
And then he started to shake.
It happened fastâlike his body knew before he did. His hands clawed at your waist, not guiding you, not controllingâjust holding on, desperate and twitching.
âF-fuck, Iâm gonnaââ His head dropped back hard against the headboard. His whole spine arched. âOh myâshit, fuck, Iâm comingââ
And then he did.
It ripped out of him like a storm.
His cock twitched hard inside you, pulsing thick ropes as he cried outâsharp and unfiltered, all pretense gone. He came so hard it throbbed, his body jerking with every wave, hips stuttering helplessly beneath you. His thighs were quaking. His chest heaved. His voice cracked on your name as he spilled into you, moaning like it hurt to feel that good.
You didnât slow downânot right away. You stayed moving, slow and deep, milking every drop from him, watching his eyes flutter open wide before rolling back.
âF-fuckânnghâoh my god,â he gasped. âIâholyâfuckââ
You finally stopped when he slumped back against the bed, completely limp, sweat clinging to his chest and forehead, mouth open, eyes dazed. His cock twitched again weakly inside you, like it still hadnât recovered.
You ran a hand through his hair, smiling down at him sweetly. âWhat happened to âyouâre not gonna break meâ?â
Chris just blinked at you, lips still parted. He looked like a man who had just seen god and got wrecked by her.
ââŠI think I just blacked out,â he muttered.
You leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth.
âGood.â
He blinked up at you, dazed. ââŠWait.â
You tilted your head.
His hands twitched, eyes darting between your face and your thighs. âDid youâŠ? I meanâyou didnâtâfuck, you didnât come, did you?â
You bit your lip, letting that silence stretch.
Chris sat up so fast he almost wobbled. âShit, I didnât evenâfuck, I was supposed toââ He ran a hand through his sweat-matted hair, looking genuinely distressed.
âRelax,â you said, trying not to laugh. âYou were kind of busy cumming your soul out of your body.â
But Chris was already reaching for you, urgency building now that he realized the tables had fully turned.
âNo, no, noâlay back.â His voice was rough, broken around the edges but dead serious. âIâm not letting that slide.â
He nudged you gently down onto your back, crawling over you, pressing messy kisses to your chest, your stomach, lower. âYouâre gonna come,â he muttered. âAs many times as you want.â
You hadnât even finished teasing him when he was already shifting down the bed, settling between your thighs with a shaky breath.
His hands were trembling. His lips were swollen. His cock was still soft and leakingâbut none of that stopped him.
He kissed the inside of your knee first, then lower, then lower, until he was hovering right where you wanted him. He looked up through his lashes, still flushed and glassy-eyed.
âTell me how,â he whispered.
You propped yourself on your elbows, heartbeat thudding. âYou want instructions now?â
Chris nodded, eyes fixed on your pussy like it was sacred. âIâI need to do this right.â
You felt heat flood your cheeks. âJust keep your tongue flatâdonât rush. Focus up top.â
And fuck, did he listen.
His mouth met you softly, reverentlyâlike he was trying to memorize the shape of you with his tongue. He licked a slow stripe up your folds, then flattened his tongue right over your clit, warm and wet and so careful, like he was scared to move wrong.
You gasped. He moaned.
And then he did it againâagainâbuilding this steady rhythm, mouth moving like he was praying between your legs.
âJust like that,â you breathed. âFuck, Chrisâdonât stop.â
He whined into you. The sound vibrated, and your hips jerked.
His handsâstill tremblingâgripped your thighs tighter, pulling you closer, anchoring himself there like he needed to stay attached.
Every few strokes, heâd glance up at you, just to see your expression. Like your pleasure was oxygen, and he was holding his breath between every gasp you gave.
You felt the orgasm start deepâlow, coiled heat, getting tighter and tighter with every swirl of his tongue.
Your hand slid into his hair, tugging, guiding. âRight thereâdonât fucking stopââ
Chris whimpered at your tone. His hips twitched uselessly against the mattressâlike even his body was still trying to please you.
You tightened your grip. âFuck, Chrisâyesââ
And then you were coming. Hard.
Your whole body arched, your thighs clamped around his head, and he groaned into you, tongue never stopping, drinking it all in like it was his favorite thing heâd ever tasted. You rode it out on his mouth, hips grinding helplessly as your orgasm hit wave after wave.
When you finally stilled, breath ragged, Chris pulled back slowlyâchin soaked, lips swollen, eyes wrecked. He looked like he was in awe. Like he was the lucky one.
âDid IâŠ?â he whispered.
You grabbed his wrist and tugged him up the bed, kissing him deeply, tasting yourself on his tongue.
âYou did,â you murmured. âYou good little thing.â
And Chrisâred-faced and shiveringâjust nodded, burying his face in your neck.
ââŠYou can ruin me anytime.â
hollyyyyy i want to write more of this hehehehehehehehe
i can confirm this is exactly how chris would act.
... shy!matt x readerâa love story told in all their first moments
cw: flirting, kissing, sub!matt, p in v, riding, squirting, humiliation, jealousy, angst, fluff, literally everything. its a love story!
First Time Meeting
The library was almost empty.
It was late afternoon, the kind of time when the sun starts to filter in sideways through the windows and paint golden lines across the floor. Matt liked it thenâquiet, still, safe. The way the shelves muffled everything, the way people whispered by default. He came here more than he liked to admit, always with a book or a sketchpad, always ending up in the same worn seat by the back window.
Thatâs where he saw you.
He noticed you before you noticed him. You were standing near the psychology shelf, one hand on your hip, head tilted like you were sizing up a row of books for a fight. He thought you were gorgeousâ to put it lightly.
There was something about how still you were, how focused. Like you didnât care who else was in the room. That alone made Mattâs stomach do something embarrassing.
He looked away. Then back again.
You pulled out a book, flipped it open, and sighed. It was almost imperceptible, but he heard it. And then, as if drawn by some invisible, stupid force, Matt stood up.
He didnât plan on saying anything. He really didnât. But somehow, he ended up a few feet away, pretending to look for something on the shelf beside you.
You glanced at him once, then twice.
âYou need something?â you asked, not unkind, just direct.
Matt blinked, caught. âOhâuh. No. I was justâŠâ
He trailed off. What was he just?
You raised an eyebrow, book still half-open in your hand. âJust hovering weirdly near me?â
Mattâs face flushed instantly. âIâsorry. I didnât mean to. I wasnâtââ
You smiled then, subtle but real. âRelax. Iâm just messing with you.â
âOh.â He blinked, shoulders tensing, then easing. âRight. Okay.â
You closed the book and tucked it under your arm, turning toward him a little more fully. âYou hang out here a lot?â
He hesitated. âYeah. Kind of my place, I guess.â
âYeah? You seem like the library type?
That made him tilt his head. âWhatâs the library type?â
You shrugged. âI donât know. Glasses? Button up shirts? Tote bags or some shit??â
He laughed, caught off guard. âI mean, I do have many tote bags. And glasses. And button up shirts.â
You nodded toward the sketchpad under his arm. âYou draw?â
Matt looked down like he forgot he was holding it. âOhâyeah. A bit.â
âCan I see?â
His eyes widened slightly. âNow?â
âNo,â you said, mock serious. âIn a couple days.â
He laughed nervously. âRight. Sorry.â
He flipped open the sketchpad without thinking, hands clumsy, suddenly hyperaware of how close you were. The pages showed a mix of quick studiesâhands, faces, street scenesâdone in pencil, loose and warm.
You looked for a moment, quiet.
âThese are really good,â you said.
Matt blinked, startled. âOh. Thanks.â
âNo, likeâactually. I donât usually say things I donât mean.â
âIâokay.â He tried not to grin like an idiot. âThatâs... really nice of you. Um t-thank you.â
You glanced at him again, more carefully this time. âYou always this twitchy, or is it just me?â
He flushed. âJust you, probably.â
You smiled again. âCute.â
His ears turned red. âYou, uh⊠you come here a lot?â
âSometimes. When I want to think. Or avoid people.â
He nodded slowly. âThatâs why I come too.â
You looked at him for a moment longer, like you were deciding something.
âIâm gonna go sit over there,â you said, motioning toward the window seat he always used. âYou can come too, if you want.â
Matt hesitated just long enough for you to raise an eyebrow again.
âUnless youâre scared,â you added.
âIâm not scared,â he said quickly, stepping forward before his brain could stop him.
You gave a soft hum of approval and led the way. When you sat, you didnât spread out or mark your spaceâjust leaned back, casual, like you belonged there. Matt hovered for a beat too long before settling beside you, sketchpad in his lap, palms sweating.
âSo,â you said after a moment. âWhatâs your name?â
âMatt.â
You repeated it under your breath, then nodded. âIâm y/n.â
Silence again. Not awkwardâjust expectant.
âI really wasnât trying to be weird earlier,â Matt blurted.
You looked at him sideways. âYou kinda were.â
âI know,â he groaned, covering his face.
You nudged his knee with yours. âBut I didnât mind.â
He peeked at you between his fingers. âReally?â
âReally,â you said, letting your smile grow slowly. âYouâre cute when you panic.â
Matt didnât respond. He couldnât. He just looked at youâcomposed, unreadable, and yet totally disarmingâand felt like someone had pulled the floor out from under him.
You nudged his knee again, gentler this time. âCat got your tongue, sketchboy?â
He blinked like heâd just surfaced. âSorry, Iâmâthis is just... a lot.â
You raised an eyebrow, amused. âMe sitting near you is âa lotâ?â
âNo, itâs justâyouâre reallyâŠâ He trailed off, like the word had gotten stuck somewhere between his brain and mouth.
âIâm reallyâŠ?â you prompted, leaning in slightly.
Matt swallowed. âDistracting.â
You grinned. âIâll take it.â
He laughed under his breath, nervous again, thumb grazing the corner of his sketchpad like it was grounding him. âYou make it hard to think.â
âThatâs the goal,â you said casually, watching him squirm. âBut if it helps, youâre doing okay.â
He tilted his head. âOkay?â
âBetter than I expected.â
âBetter thanâwait, what were you expecting?â
You shrugged like it wasnât important. âI donât know. More stammering. More sweating.â
âOh, Iâm definitely sweating,â he muttered.
You smirked and leaned back against the window, eyes squinting at the slats of sunlight spilling across the floor. âYouâre funny, though. Kind of sweet.â
Matt opened his mouth, then closed it again. âYouâre just⊠saying that.â
âNo,â you said, without looking at him. âI donât say things I donât mean.â
And that quiet between you returnedâjust long enough for the tension to shift from playful to something heavier. More real.
âI, umâŠâ Matt started, then stopped, biting his lip.
You glanced over. âWhat?â
He scratched the back of his neck, looking absolutely anywhere but at you. âIâve got a lecture that I have to head to. Would it be super weird if I asked for your number?â
You didnât answer right away. Just looked at him for a second too long. Then:
âThat depends.â
âOn what?â
âWhether youâre actually gonna use it.â
His head snapped up. âIâyes. I will. I mean, I want to.â
You pulled a pen from your tote and reached for his sketchpad. âThen I guess itâs not super weird.â
You scribbled your number in the corner, dotting the âiâ in your name with a tiny star. Then handed it back like it was no big deal.
Matt looked down at it like it might vanish.
âDonât overthink it,â you said as you stood, slinging your bag over your shoulder. âJust text me.â
He nodded quickly. âYeah. Yeah, I will.â
You paused, gave him one last look. âNice meeting you, Matt.â
And then you walked away, as calm and unreadable as when youâd arrived, leaving him blinking in the gold light, sketchpad in hand, heart doing things he didnât know hearts could do.
First Texts
Matt:
hey
Itâs me, matt, from the library?
You:
Hey matt
Whats up
Matt:
so hypothetically
if someone wanted to see you again
in a setting that wasnât just surrounded by dusty psychology books
how would you feel about that?
You:
iâd feel like that person should stop hiding behind hypotheticals and just ask me out
Matt:
okay
uhÂ
dâyou wanna go have a picnic?
I know a quiet spot. Nothing fancy. Just food and you I guess.
You:Â
Food and me?? Sounds fun
Matt:Â
Good. Iâll bring snacks and a blanket. You just bring yourself.
You:Â
Deal. Saturday afternoon work?
Matt:Â
Yeah that works! Iâll pick you up.
First Date
The park was quiet, with just enough afternoon sun slipping through the trees to make the grass glow golden. Matt spread the blanket carefully, trying not to fumble too much with the snacks heâd brought. Heâd overthought everythingâthe perfect spot, the right foodâ chocolate covered strawberries, all sorts of fruits and cheeses, and chips.
You plopped down right beside him, knees touching, grinning in surprise.
âWow,â you said, eyeing his arrangement. âLook at you, all organized and stuff. I half expected you to show up with a bag of chips and maybe a soda.â
Mattâs cheeks flushed, a little overwhelmed by your energy. âHey, I put some thought into this. Quality counts.â
You leaned in closer, voice low and teasing. âI like a guy who tries. Those fuckinâ nochalant guys piss me off.â
He swallowed hard, blinking, sort of unable to focus. He really liked your eyelashes. You did your makeup in the way that made them clumped together in triangles and spikey, framing your eyes. âIâyeah, thank you.â
âNo, thank you.â You add, picking up a strawberry from the bowl. âYou seem really sweet. Kinda random, but did you bring your sketchbook by any chance?â
Matt shifted, breaking out into a cute smile. âYeah! I did, actually Why?.â
You laughed, the sound light and infectious. âYouâre so excited!â
He smiled shyly, glancing down at the blanket like it was a lifeline.Â
You dug into the basket again and pulled out the sketchbook, flipping it open to a blank page. âAlright, Picasso, impress me.â
Mattâs eyes brightened, and he took the sketchbook, already grabbing a pencil from his bag. âOkay, but be warnedâIâm better at drawing nature than people.â
You smirked, nudging him playfully. âThen you better start with me.â
He bit his lip, concentrating, pencil moving carefully. You watched him, fascinated by the furrow of his brow and the way his fingers trembled just a little.
âI-I donât know if itâs going to be good.â
You reached out and brushed a stray hair from his face, smiling softly. âYouâre doing just fine.â
Mattâs heart did a weird flip-flop thing. âYouâre way too nice.â
âNah, I just like making cute nerds blush.â
He coughed awkwardly, cheeks flaming. âIâm not blushing.â
âSure youâre not.â You grinned, then changed the subject, âSo, whatâs next after strawberries? Iâm expecting a grand tour of your snack stash.â
âGrand tour? Wow, you really know how to flatter a guy.â
You laughed again, flicking a crumb at him. âFlattery and flirtingâmy specialties.â
Matt tried to catch the crumb but missed, ending up with it on his shirt. You giggled, and he gave up, just grinning like a total dork, then going back to draw.
âYouâre distracting,â he muttered, eyes flicking up to yours as his pencil moved in short, careful strokes.
âAm I?â you teased, voice lilting.
âPainfully,â he replied without looking up, but the corner of his mouth twitched like he was trying not to smile.
You sat back a little, giving him space, watching the way his hand moved. He was quiet for a bit, just sketching, tongue peeking out in concentration.
Finally, he stopped, blowing gently across the page like itâd smudge if he even breathed wrong. âOkay, um. Itâs not perfect, butâŠâ
He turned the sketchbook around and showed you.
It was youâyour hair a little messy from the breeze, lips parted like you were mid-laugh, sitting cross-legged with a strawberry in one hand. Soft lines, but so intentional. Warm. Kind of how he saw you.
He looked like he was about to short-circuit. âYou think so?â
You nodded slowly, eyes still on the drawing. âItâs not even about the lines or whateverâit just⊠feels like me. Like how I felt sitting here. Thatâs kinda magical, you know?â
Matt blinked, definitely blushing now.
You leaned in, elbow nudging his. âYouâre kinda magical, Matt.â
He looked away, smiling so wide he couldnât stop it. âYouâre gonna kill me.â
You leaned back on your hands, stretching your legs out across the blanket as the sun dipped a little lower, turning everything hazy and golden. The strawberry stem still sat between your fingers, forgotten.
Matt was watching you like he didnât mean to. Like every time he looked away, he had to check again to make sure you were still real.
You caught him. âYou good?â
He blinked, startled. âWhat? Yeahâyeah, Iâm justâŠâ
âMesmerized by my beauty?â
âI meanâŠâ He trailed off, but you saw the grin creeping onto his face.
You laughed, brushing your fingers lightly against his arm. âRelax, Iâm just messing.â
âKind of wish you werenât,â he muttered under his breath, quiet but not quiet enough.
You stilled for half a second, then smiledâgentler this time. âIâm glad I came.â
He looked over at you again, blinking slowly, eyes all soft. âMe too.â
There was a pauseâcomfortable. The kind you donât notice until itâs over.
Eventually, you helped him pack up, folding the blanket between you, hands brushing once, twice, until he finally just said, âLet me,â and took it from you, a little too careful, a little too flustered.
When you got to the path back toward the street, you slowed down. âHey, Matt?â
He looked over, hair mussed from the breeze, sketchbook tucked under his arm.
You leaned in and kissed his cheek. Just barely, but definitely enough to make his ears go red.
âThanks for today,â you said.
Matt blinked. âUh. Yeah. No. Yeahâthank you. Too. I mean. Youâre welcome. I meanââ
You grinned. âGod, youâre cute.â
He laughed, finally letting out a breath. âI donât know how you do thatâ
âGood,â you said, turning to go. âI donât want you to.â
And with that, you walked off, glancing back once to see him still standing there, grinning like he couldnât believe his life.
First Kiss
Youâd been on a few dates by nowâenough that Matt had stopped flinching every time your knee touched his under the table, but not enough that heâd figured out how to look at your mouth without going pink.
Tonight, it was a walk. No real plan. Just you, Matt, and the city lit up like it was showing off for you.
He kept sneaking glances. You kept pretending not to notice. Then purposely brushing your shoulder into his just to make him stumble over his words again.
âYou know,â you said as you passed a quiet little streetlamp, âyouâre starting to look at me like you wanna kiss me.â
Matt nearly tripped. âWhatâ? IâmâNo, I meanâyes? I meanââ
You stopped walking, turning toward him with a teasing smile. âRelax. Iâm not gonna bite. Unless youâre into that.â
He opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. âI, uh. I do want to kiss you. Kinda a lot.â
A sold moment passed.
âThen do it.â
His eyes widened a little, like he wasnât expecting you to just say it. He opened his mouth then closed it like a fish, unable to get words out.
But he stepped in anyway, one slow inch at a time. Close enough to see every little shimmer in your eyes. Close enough to get nervous again.
You reached up and tugged gently at the collar of his hoodie. âCâmon, Matt. Youâve drawn me twice. You can kiss me once.â
That made him laugh, nervous and breathless. His pretty eyes behind his glasses kept flicking between your eyes and your lips as you just watched him carefully.
Then he leaned in. It was soft. Careful. Like he was afraid you might vanish if he messed it up. But your hands found the sides of his face, grounding him, and when you kissed backâjust a little firmer, a little more sureâhe melted into it.Â
His hands came to go around your waist as he tilted his head slightly to slot his lips perfecty against yours. His glasses make contact with your nose as he kisses you a bit harder.
When you pulled away, barely, his forehead bumped gently into yours.
âYou okay?â you murmured.
âYeah,â he said, dazed. âJustâprocessing. That was...wow.â
You grinned. âYouâre cute when your brain short-circuits.â
âYouâre cute,â he said, quickly, confidence boosting his ability to compliment you.
You laughed, threading your fingers through his. âTrue. But youâre especially cute when youâre flustered. Which, lucky for me, is always.â
Then without hesitation, put his hands around your face and kissed you again, this time without overthinking.
Progress.
First Sleepover
You were early. Not by much. Just thirty minutes. You had your reasons: the streetcar came fast, your outfit (which was just your pajamas) had come together better than expected, and⊠okay, maybe you just wanted to see him a little sooner.
What you didnât expect was for Matt to answer the door shirtless and confused, hair wet and curling at the ends. He blinked at you, eyes wide behind his glasses, water still dripping down his collarbone.Â
He clearly had meant to shave you had interrupted his frantic getting ready based on the slight scruff on his jawlineâ he usually had it cleanly shaved, and you couldn't help but love this look.
ââŠYouâre early.â
You smiled like you hadnât just swallowed a breath. âYeah. Guess I missed you.â
Matt looked panicked. âIâI just got out of the shower.â
âI can see that,â you said, gaze shameless. âAnd you look very clean. Very damp. Very shirtless.â
He flushed to the tips of his ears. âOh my God.â
You leaned against the doorframe, all teeth. âShould I wait out here while you compose yourself? Or do I get a pre-movie show?â
He made a strangled noise, yanked the door open wider, and turned away too fast. âJust come inâgive me two secondsâJesusââ
You giggled and stepped inside, not bothering to hide the way your eyes trailed after him as he disappeared down the hall.
By the time he reemerged, shirt clinging slightly from rushed dressing and curls still drying, you were perched on the couch with your legs tucked under you and the popcorn he had laid out in your lap. âMuch better,â you said. âI mean, I prefer the previous look, but Iâll survive.â
ây/n,â Matt muttered, sitting down beside you. âYouâre gonna kill me.â
You bumped your shoulder into his. âNah. Not yet.â
After a while when Matt had turned all the light on and gotten settled, the movie played. Sort of. You werenât really watching it. Neither was he.
You commented too much. He laughed too easily. He kept glancing at you when he thought you wouldnât notice, and you definitely noticed.
At some point, his arm had somehow ended around your shoulder.
Neither of you said anything. It just stayed there, warm and loose between popcorn refills. Eventually, you leaned your head onto his shoulder. His breath caught.
âI really like this,â you whispered.
âMe too,â he said, even softer.
You turned your head slightly to look at him. Your faces were closer than you realized.
He didnât move.
So you leaned in and kissed himâslow and easy, like youâd been waiting all week to do it again.
Matt made a soft sound, almost surprised, and kissed you back. It was warmer this time, a little more sure. In his mind, all he wanted to do was launch forwards and kiss you harder. You were just so captivating that itâs all he could think of, but he tried keeping self control, and pulled away.
He pulled away with a shaky breath, eyes fluttering open like he was waking from a dream. His lips were pink, his cheeks flushed, and you could feel the restraint vibrating off him.
You tilted your head, voice teasing. âWhat, thatâs all I get?â
Matt laughed under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck. âIf I didnât stop, I wasnât gonna stop.â
Your brows lifted, amusement flickering in your smile. âWow. Bold of you to assume Iâd mind.â
He groaned, flopping back onto the couch dramatically. âDonât say stuff like that. Iâll combust.â
You leaned on him, gently resting a hand on his leg that laid right beside yours. âYouâre so cute when youâre like this.â
He looked up at you, still flushed, eyes dark with something and caught-off-guard. âYouâve mentioned,â he says sarcastically.
With a gasp of indignation, you gave a soft slap on the leg where your hand was resting. âDonât you build up an attitude with me, Matthew.
He just opened his mouth then shut it, clearly not knowing how to feel about you saying his full name like that. He liked it, so he decided right then.
Before he could respond, you kissed him againâthis one short, smiling against his mouth, before sitting back and curling into his side like nothing had happened.
Matt took a full sixty seconds to reboot. Then quietlyâcarefullyâhe draped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you in closer.
You didnât say anything. You just rested your head back on him and let yourself melt.
After a couple moments, Matt shifted carefully, adjusting so he was lying down on the long couch. You moved with him, settling against his side, your body fitting naturally against his. The movie kept playing, the flickering light casting soft shadows across the room.
You blinked slowly, your breathing evening out as sleep started to claim youâ you were a pretty early sleeper for people your age.
Mattâs eyes stayed on the screen for a moment, but his attention quietly drifted to you. The peaceful way your eyelashes fluttered, the slight rise and fall of your chestâit was like watching something fragile and beautiful.
When the movieâs credits began to roll, Matt reached out without a sound, grabbing the remote from the edge of the couch. His fingers hovered for a second, then he pressed the button to turn off the TV.
The room went dark except for the soft glow of streetlights outside.
Matt didnât move, just held you a little tighter as you slipped fully into sleep, a small smile tugging at his lips.
First Time You Made it Official
The sun dipped just below the horizon, the sky swirling with peach and lavender as Matt pulled up outside your place. He jumped out of the car, already rubbing the back of his neck nervously. âReady?â he asked, flashing that awkward-but-sincere smile you were already hooked on.
You nodded, sliding into the passenger seat. The car smelled faintly of popcorn and something sweet â maybe.
Matt started driving, stealing glances at you from the corner of his eyes. âSo, this is kind of a last-minute thing,â he muttered, voice a bit shaky. âI hope you donât mind.â
You grinned, heart fluttering. âI love surprises.â
The city lights blurred past as you drove out of town, the orange glow of the sunset melting into the cool blues of twilight.
Finally, you reached a quiet hilltop overlooking the drive-in. Matt parked, and you both sat in silence for a moment, the only sound the soft hum of the engine.
âOkay,â he said, suddenly breaking the quiet, âclose your eyes.âÂ
You raised an eyebrow but obeyed, heart thudding in your chest. Slowly, you heard him walk around to your side of the passenger side of the car and open the door, holding both of your hands to guide you out, then eventually leading you around the car. You were grinning so hard it hurt. Then, he let go and you hear a little click and switch.
âAlright, open âem,â Matt whispered.
You blinked, and the trunk was wide open, spilling out a soft golden light from twinkling string lights Matt had strung up with obvious care. Cushions and blankets were arranged in a cozy nest, and a spread of snacks â popcorn, chocolate, fruit â sat invitingly in the center.
Right there, taped to the inside of the trunk lid, was a sign written in his handwriting:
âCan I be yours?â
Your breath hitched. You looked up at Matt, who was now practically glowing with nervous hope.Â
âSoâŠ?â he said, voice cracking just a little.
You didnât hesitate. You threw yourself into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist and pressing your face into his neck.
Matt stumbled backward, laughter bubbling up as he caught you effortlessly.
âMatt!â you yelled with a squeal, leaning back and pressing a passionate kiss into his lips.
âIs that a yes,â he said, voice rough with emotion against your lips.
You pulled back just enough to smile, then leaned in once again, kissing him slow and soft, full of all the excitement and relief and warmth youâd both been holding back.
The world shrunk to just you two, the twinkle lights glowing softly, the sound of the movie starting in the background, and the feeling that this was exactly where you were supposed to be.
âOf course Iâll be your girlfriend, Matt. Of course.âÂ
First Time you Gave him a Nickname
You were sitting cross-legged on the floor, sorting through a stack of old vinyl records youâd pulled out from her collection. The soft crackle of the music filled the room.
You smiled and handed Matt one. âYou always pick the best ones, baby.â
Matt froze. His face went bright red, and before he could stop himself, he covered his face with his hands.
âWait... did you just call me⊠baby?â His voice was shaky and muffled.
You laughed, watching him squirm. âYeah. So?â
He peeked through his fingers, cheeks burning hard. âIâuhâdidnât expect that.â He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to find words. âItâs⊠nice, I guess. Um. Um, sorry..â
You reached out and tucked a stray hair behind his ear, then leaned in and kissed him.
Mattâs eyes went wide. His heart was racing so fast he thought itâd jump out. He froze for a second, then kissed her back, shy and slow.
You grinned. âSee? Youâre getting used to it.â
First Time You Cried in Front of him
Youâd been at it for hoursâhighlighting, rewriting notes, flipping through textbooksâtrying to force your brain to understand the material that just wouldnât click. Your desk was a chaotic mess, pages strewn about like a storm had passed through. The clock ticked on, but all you felt was your chest tightening, breaths growing shorter, and the walls closing in.
Matt was lying on your bed nearby, earbuds in, half-asleep, his music washing over him like a soft wace. But then, even without hearing you, he noticed the subtle changeâthe way your fingers trembled, the catch in your breath.
Involuntarily, you gasped your vision swimming. Panic swelled fast and fierce. You couldnât do it. You were going to fail your midterms. You couldnât do it.
Matt was up instantly, heart pounding. He yanked the earbuds out, voice gentle but urgent. âHey, hey, baby, whatâs going on? Talk to me.â
You couldnât answer. You were drowning in your own panic, breaths coming in sharp, uneven bursts, tears slipping down your cheeks.
Matt closed the distance, taking your shaking hands in his. âOkay. Weâre gonna slow this down. Just breathe with me. Inâhold itâout. Again.â
You tried, but your lungs felt tight, like air was slipping away.
Without hesitation, he guided you away from the desk. âCome sit with me. Youâre not alone.â
You let yourself be pulled onto the bed, curling into him as he wrapped his arms around your trembling frame. His chest was steady beneath your head, his heartbeat a quiet anchor against your chaos.
âIâm right here,â he whispered, voice low and soft. âNothingâs wrong with you. You donât have to be strong all the time.â
The warmth of his touch, the calm in his voiceâit started to pull you back, like a lifeline.
You felt yourself start to relax, breaths becoming deeper, less frantic.
Mattâs fingers traced slow circles on your back. âYouâre okay. Youâre so brave for even letting me see this.â
You pressed your face against his shirt, embarrassed but too exhausted to care. âIâm sorry. I didnât mean to break down like this. Iâm just... so tired. And I donât get it. Iâve been trying so hard. I feel like fucking shit, Matt.â
Matt kissed the top of your head. âYou donât have to explain. Iâm not going anywhere.â
He tightened his hold, voice thick with care. âI hate that youâre hurting. But Iâm proud of you for pushing through.â
A shaky breath escaped you, comfort blooming in the quiet room. âThank you... for being here.â
He smiled, the kind of smile that makes your chest ache in the best way. âAlways. Now, how about we put those books away for tonight? Iâll even let you pick the movie. Something dumb, something that makes us laugh.â
You let out a soft laugh, feeling a flicker of light through the panic haze. âYeah... Iâd like that.â
Matt brushed a stray tear from your cheek and whispered, âYouâre the strongest person I know, y/n, donât you forget it. And with that, he planted a firm kiss on your lips.
First I love you
It was a lazy Sunday. You were sitting cross-legged on Mattâs bed, eating fruit straight from the container while he lay next to you on his stomach, sketchbook open in front of him. The soft hum of music drifted from his speaker, blending with the late afternoon light that poured in through his window.
You popped a grape into your mouth and looked over at what he was drawing. âIs that supposed to be me?â you teased, leaning closer. âWhy are my eyes so big?â
Matt huffed. âTheyâre not big, theyâre expressive. Itâs artistic exaggeration.â
âYou just called me cartoonish.â
He glanced up, grinning. âWell, youâre my favorite cartoon character. Obviously.â
âObviously,â you echoed, smirking.
He returned to his sketching, but you saw the smile that lingered at the corner of his mouth. You stretched out beside him, stealing one of his pencils just to annoy him. He didnât stop you.
You were halfway doodling nonsense in the margin of his page when he muttered, casually and without looking up, âGod, I love you.â
You froze.
So did he.
He blinked. Then his pencil dropped. And slowly, like his brain was catching up with his mouth, he turned to look at you. His eyes were wide.
âOh my god,â he whispered, already flushing pink. âWait. I didnâtâ I mean, I didnât mean it likeâwell I did butââ He sat up too fast and knocked the sketchbook off the bed. âI wasnât gonna say it like that, not now, Iâughââ
âMatt,â you said softly.
He ran a hand through his hair, now fully red in the face. âI was gonna wait for, like, a perfect moment. Maybe flowers? Or a sunset? Not while youâre bullying me over eyeballsââ
âMatt.â
He peeked at you through his fingers. âYeah?â
You reached for him and held his face gently. âI love you too.â
He blinked again. âWait... seriously?â
You nodded, smile growing. âSeriously.â
His whole body relaxed like heâd just exhaled a weekâs worth of breath. âOh thank god,â he said, then added in a rush, âI meanânot that I was worried. I mean, I was. But likeââ He paused. âYou love me?â
âI do.â
He grinned, giddy and dazed. âSick.â
You laughed. âThatâs your response?â
He shrugged, all flustered and glowing. âI panicked. But Iâm really happy.â
Then he kissed you â not clumsy or rushed, but slow and sweet, like he finally knew where he stood.
And where he stood was exactly where he wanted to be.
First Makeout Sesh
It started like any other night. You were sitting cross-legged on Mattâs bed, half-watching a movie while your fingers absentmindedly toyed with the hem of your hoodieâhis hoodie that youâd stolen weeks ago. He was beside you, leaning against the headboard, looking very boyfriend-coded in a black tank top and sweats, hair still slightly messy from earlier.Â
His glasses were set to the side of his dresser, and he had that slight stubble that you just loved.
You werenât really paying attention to the movie. Not when he kept tracing soft patterns on the side of your waist, not when he looked over and smiled like thatâall shy and soft and so obviously in love.
At some point, you climbed into his lap.
It wasnât planned. You were just tired, or at least that was your excuse. He blinked up at you, wide-eyed, his hands hovering near your waist like he didnât know if he was allowed to touch.
âYou okay?â he asked, voice a little breathier than usual.
You leaned in, brushing your nose against his. âMore than okay.â
And then you kissed him.
It started soft, familiar. Youâd kissed beforeâquick, sweet pecks, slow moments on quiet afternoons. But this one deepened fast. You tilted your head, one hand sliding into his hair, and Matt made the softest soundâhalf gasp, half sighâagainst your mouth.
He kissed you back like heâd been waiting for it.
His hands settled on your hips, tentative at first. You shifted a little, straddling him properly, and his breath hitched hard.
âY-youâre gonna kill me,â he mumbled against your lips, cheeks flushed pink.
You smiled. âYou like it.â
His eyes fluttered shut when you kissed down the side of his jaw, your lips grazing the edge of his throat. His hands gripped you tighter, like he needed to hold on to something.
âGod,â he whispered, âyouâre unreal.â
You pulled back just enough to look at himâhis lips were red and kiss-bruised, hair all messed up from your fingers. He looked completely dazed.
You let your fingers trace the line of his collarbone, just barely under the tank top strap, and he whimpered.
âHoly shit,â he muttered, voice cracking with pure embarrassment. âIâm sorry I didnât mean toââ
ââyouâre so cute when youâre desperate,â you interrupt, brushing your nose against his again.
Matt looked humiliated and so turned on. âThatâs so unfair.â
But he didnât stop kissing you. Didnât stop pulling you closer, as you both held onto each other and made out in a rhythm.
ây/nâŠâ he said, voice a little wrecked already.
You tilted your head. âYeah?â
âIâum.â His hands flexed on your hips again, eyes darting down to where your bodies pressed together. âYou should probably stop,â he mutters with embarrassment.Â
You smile and begin placing kisses down his neck. âWhy?â
âB-because,â he tries to say, until you fully sit down onto his lap, making contact with his bulge. He groans, totally forgetting what he was trying to bring up.
âFuckâ this feels like a dream.â
You smirked. âDo your dreams usually include me grinding on you?â
Matt choked. Literally choked on air.
âJesus Christââ He threw his head back against the headboard, face flaming. âYouâre evil.â
But he didnât stop you when you rolled your hips, just barely.
He whimpered. A real, honest-to-God whimper. And it made you grin so wide you had to hide it against his neck.
âY-you canât just do that,â he said, his voice trembling.
âWhy not?â you murmured, kissing just below his ear. âYou like it.â
His hands slid up your back now, hesitant but eager. âYouâre gonna make me lose my mind.â
âGood.â
You kissed him againâhotter, more open-mouthed. This time he gave in completely. He let you take control, lips parting under yours, breath stuttering as your tongues brushed. His hands were gripping the hem of your hoodie like he was afraid he might float away if he let go.
You pulled back just long enough to tug the hoodie off. Mattâs eyes widened like heâd just short-circuited.
âYouâre soââ he started, then stopped, then swallowed. âI donât even have words.â
You leaned back in, resting your forehead against his. âYou donât have to talk, baby. Just feel.â
That got a sound out of him that went straight to your stomach. He kissed you again, this time with urgency, with need. His hips shifted under yours involuntarily, and you both gasped at the friction.
You dragged your nails gently up his arms, feeling the tension there. âTell me what you want,â you whispered.
Matt shook his head, dizzy. âI donâtâI.â
Then you heard a knock at the door.
Matt froze.
You both stared at each other, breath caught, hearts hammering. Another knock. Louder.
âBro!â a voice called. âOpen upâwe brought snacks!â
Matt groaned like it physically hurt. He flopped back against the headboard, arms thrown over his eyes in pure agony. âNo. No, no, no. I forgot Chris and Nick were coming.â
You laughedâquiet and breathlessâas he muttered a string of hushed curses.
âTheyâre literally the worst,â he whispered, like he was being hunted. âFuck mâsorry.â
You leaned down, still straddling him, brushing a kiss against his jaw. âWell, I guess youâll just have to wait.â
He whined. You loved it.
The knock came again, followed by a chorus of his brothersâ voices arguing about who was supposed to text ahead. Matt looked at you with the most tragic expression.Â
âAnother day, baby,â you add. With a groan he tries to subtly tuck himself into the waistband of his sweatpants without you seeing, then begins trudging downstairs to open the door.
First Fight
It started with something small.Â
Matt had been quiet all night. Youâd asked if everything was okay once, twiceâhe just nodded and said he was tired. But when you made a joke at dinner, one youâd made a hundred times before, he barely reacted. And when he did, it was sharp.
âGod, do you always have to say stuff like that?â
You blinked. âWhat?â
He sighed. âJust forget it.â
âNo,â you said. âSay what you mean. Youâve been weird all night.â
âMaybe Iâm tired of always feeling like a joke to you.â
You stared at him, mouth slightly open. âMatt, what the hell are you talking about?â
He rubbed his eyes, clearly frustrated. âYou tease me all the time, y/n. And I usually donât care. But lately it justâit feels like you donât take me seriously. Like Iâm just some soft guy who canât handle anything.â
Your chest tightened. âThatâs not true. IâI tease you because I like you. You know that.â
âI thought I did,â he said quietly.
Silence stretched. You felt it like a pressure in your ribs, heavy and awful.
âN-no, no baby,â you whisper, eyes widening. âIâm sorry. Iâm so sorry.â
âI didnât know you felt like that,â you said, voice smaller now. âWhy didnât you say something before?â
âBecause I didnât want to seem pathetic,â he mumbled.
That cracked something open in you. âYouâre not pathetic, Matt. Youâre one of the strongest people I know.â
He wouldnât look at you. Just sat there, hands clenched in his lap, trying not to crumble.
You crossed the room and knelt in front of him. âIâm sorry. If I made you feel like youâre not enoughâGod, Iâm so sorry.â
His eyes finally met yours. âI just want to feel like I matter to you. Like⊠not just the flirty version. The me version.â
âYou matter,â you said, pressing your hand to his chest. âThis version. All of it. I see you, Matt.â
His face crumpled, just a little. And then you were hugging, both of you holding on too tightly, too long, like the space between your bodies had been unbearable.
âIâm sorry Matt,â you whisper, tears stinging your eyes. âIâll make it up to you, I promise. I swear I will.â
After a long time of you laying in his arms, he says into your hair. âI forgive you, baby.â
First time you cared for him while he was sick
Matt did not look good.
The second you opened the door to his apartmentâcode heâd barely managed to text youâyou found him lying sideways on the bathroom floor, half-conscious, sweaty, and pale like a ghost with heatstroke.
âOh my God,â you breathed, rushing to kneel beside him. âMatt?â
He groaned in response, one hand feebly waving in the direction of the toilet. âI threw up. A lot. I think Iâm dying.â
You ignored the dramatics and brushed his damp hair back. He was burning up, forehead hot under your fingers, skin clammy and gross in a way that made your heart squeeze with worry.
âWhy didnât you tell me you were this sick?â
He mumbled something unintelligible and dramatically buried his face in your lap. âDidnât wanna bother you.â
âYouâre literally on the bathroom floor,â you said. âI want to be bothered for that.â
You helped him up slowly, got him into a clean shirt, and tucked him onto the couch with a cold compress and a puke bucket beside him. The whole time, he just let you do it, too weak to argue, blinking up at you like you were a hallucination sent by some benevolent god.
âDonât leave,â he mumbled, grabbing your hand as you went to get him water.
âIâm getting you electrolytes, drama queen,â you whispered, kissing the back of his hand. âIâll be right back.â
You set up camp with him after thatâcool cloth on his forehead, hand in his hair, rubbing his back every time he groaned or whimpered. He kept mumbling delirious things like "You're so nice to me" and "I feel gross and you still look at me like that?"
At one point, as you were carefully helping him drink tiny sips of water, he whispered hoarsely, âIf I die, tell my brothers I love them, but tell you⊠youâre the best thing that ever happened to me.â
You snorted. âShut up and sip. Youâre not dying. You just had gas station sushi.â
He groaned into the pillow. âIâm never eating fish again.â
You kissed his clammy temple anyway. âYouâve got the immune system of a Victorian child. Youâre gonna be okay. Iâve got you.â
He sighed deeply, miserable but comforted, and whispered something like âLove youâ before passing out halfway through. You stopped for a second, looking at his flushed, peaceful face, and tucked the blanket higher on his shoulders.
âLove you too, dummy,â you whispered. âEven when youâre disgusting.â
You stayed the whole night, checking up on him every hour and replacing his cold compress. Just in case.
First Time
It started with a kiss.
Not the rushed kind, or the one pulled between jokes and gigglesâthis one was different. Slower. Hungrier.
Youâd been curled up beside Matt on his bed, talking about nothing. His glasses had slid slightly down the bridge of his nose, his curls soft from running his fingers through them all evening. You leaned over to fix them, and his eyes flicked to your lips instead.
âCan IâŠ?â
You nodded before he finished, and the kiss melted into something deeper. Something needier.
His hands trembled a little when they found your waist. Yours werenât much steadier.
You pulled away, forehead resting against his, eyes searching his face. âWe donât have to,â you whispered. âBut I kind of⊠want to. With you.â
Matt's eyes went wideâso wide you half-thought heâd forgotten how to blink.
âIâI want to too,â he said, voice shaking, cheeks already flushed. âIâve just neverâwell, I mean I have, but not like⊠not like this.â
âLike what?â
âLike⊠with someone I actually care about. Who makes me feel like Iâm not gonna mess everything up.â
You leaned in and kissed him againâgently this time. âYouâre not messing anything up.â
His breath caught when you shifted, pressing closer.
âAre you okay?â you asked.
He nodded too fast, then stuttered, âYeahâI mean, yes. I justâcanâtâum, function when youâre like this.â
âLike what?â you asked, already smiling.
He covered his face with his hands, groaning. âHot. Okay? Youâre so fucking hot. This is unfair.â
You giggled, reaching to tug his hands away. âThen Iâll go slow.â
And you did.
You kissed along his jaw, his neck, his collarboneâfeeling the way he trembled beneath you. Every time your lips brushed his skin, a soft, surprised sound escaped him, like he couldnât believe it was real.
You let your fingertips trail down his chest, pausing just above his waistband.
Matt looked like he might self-destruct.
âStill okay?â you asked.
He nodded, biting his lip. âPlease donât stop.â
You kissed him again. âI wonât.â
Then you eased your shirt over your head.
He made a strangled noise and squeezed his eyes shut for a second, then opened them againâlike he was bracing himself for a heart attack and couldn't not look at you.
âYouâre literally glowing,â he whispered. âHow are you real?â
You took his hands and pressed them to your bare waist, guiding him.
He stared, completely flushed, completely in awe.
You straddled his lap slowly, carefully, watching the way his breath hitched as your bare skin met his. He was already half-hard in his boxers, twitchy with nerves, eyes flickering everywhereâyour eyes, your chest, your lips, back to your eyes like he was overwhelmed but desperate to see everything.
âYou okay?â you asked, brushing a hand through his hair.
He nodded, breathless. âY-yeah. Just⊠youâre on top of me. And youâre, um. Naked.â
You leaned in, nipping his jaw. âAnd you like it?â
His laugh was breathy, nervous. âI love it. Itâs justâmy brain isnât working. Youâre so pretty. I donât know where to put my hands.â
You took his wrists gently, guiding one to your hips and one over your breast. âHereâs a good place to start.â
He groaned, head tipping back against the pillows. âYouâre gonna kill me.â
You kissed down his neck, lingering just below his ear. âYouâll survive.â
Your fingers slipped into the waistband of his boxers, giving him a moment. He nodded againâflushed, trembling, but sure. You helped him out of them, and when he was finally bare beneath you, he looked like he might actually pass out.
You paused just to look at himâlegs spread slightly, cheeks red, chest rising fast. You let your fingers trail down his stomach, feather-light.
âYou're beautiful like this, Matt.â
He squeezed his eyes shut, like he couldnât handle hearing it. âYou make me feel like I am.â
You leaned in again, kissing him slow. âI want you to feel good. You ready?â
He nodded again, a little more desperate this time. âPlease. Just⊠tell me what to do.â
You reached for the lube and condom you'd stashed earlier, heart thudding at the way his thighs tensed under your touch. Once everything was ready, you settled over him, guiding him to your entrance.
âGo slow?â he asked, voice cracking.
âAlways,â you whispered.
And when you sank down onto him, inch by inch, his hands gripped your hips like they were the only things keeping him tethered to the earth. He let out the softest, most broken moan you'd ever heardâlike pleasure punched the air right out of him.
âOh my god,â he gasped. ây/n, Iâholy shit, you feel so good.â
You gave him a moment to adjust, and when he opened his eyesâdazed, overwhelmed, reverentâyou started to move.
âYâso warm,â he gasped ânâtight, oh fuck.â
It wasnât fast. It wasnât rough. It was messy, breathy, and achingly sweet. His hands roamed your waist like he didnât know what to hold onto. He whined every time your hips rolled just right, whispered your name like a prayer, told you over and over how good it felt.
âI donât wanna come yet,â he whimpered. âI wanna stay inside you forever.â
âDonât worry baby, weâve got forever.â
And when he finally did comeâloud, gasping, eyes wide and pupils blownâyou leaned down and kissed him through it, riding him slowly, comforting, grounding him as he trembled beneath you, whimpering into your ear.
After, his hands curled around yours like a lifeline.
âYou okay?â you asked softly, brushing sweat-damp curls from his forehead.
He was still catching his breath, face buried in the crook of your neck, but you could feel it. The little twitch of his hips. The subtle way his fingers dragged up your back. The soft, broken whisper of your name.
You pulled back to look at him. His face was flushed, hair curling damply around his ears, pupils still wide and glassy.
âYou okay?â you asked again, gentle.
He nodded, but his voice came out hoarse. âY-Yeah. Iâm just⊠I still want you. Like, really bad. Is that normal?â
You smiled, brushing his lips with yours. âHmmm. Maybe.â
Matt blinked up at you. âWe can keep going, right? I-I know I came already butââ His voice cracked, and he squirmed under you, breath hitching as his soft cock twitched against your thigh. âYouâre still hard,â you said softly.
He covered his face with both hands. âI know, I donât evenâlikeâhow?? Fuck youâre ruining me.â
You gently pulled his hands away. âIn a good way?â
âIn the best way,â he mumbled. âPlease keep going.â
And you did.
You kissed your way down his chest, making him squirm and gasp, mouth trailing over sensitive skin and leaving flushed marks behind.Â
When you took him into your mouthâhalf-hard, still twitchingâhe let out the most pathetic sound you'd ever heard.
âF-fuck, you donât have toâoh my godââ
But you wanted to. And the way he bucked slightly, trying not to, hands twisting the sheets like he was afraid to touch you, made you feral.
You pulled back a bit, letting it pop out of your mouth to speak. âMatt, youâre allowed to be greedy.â
âIâm not! I swear, I justââ He whimpered again as your tongue dragged over the head. âGod, I am greedy. I donât care. I want you so bad it hurts.â
When he got hard again, fully and shamelessly, you moved slowly, sliding back on top of him, watching his face as you sank down again. This time he cried out, high and breathy, thighs trembling under your hands.
âItâs so fucking much,â he panted. âItâsâitâs too muchâbut donât stopâplease donât stopââ
You rocked your hips, slower this time, just enough to make him arch into you.
âTell me what you need.â
âYou,â he gasped. âJust you. All of you.â
So you gave it to him.
You took your time, moving against him with slow, grinding rolls. His eyes fluttered, and he gripped your hips like he was trying not to float away.
He got vocalâfilthy in a way that surprised even him. Whimpers, moans, broken phrases between gasps:
âY-you feel so good inside, holy shitââ
âI canât believe this is realââ
âPlease, Iâm gonnaâgonna come againââ
And when he did, he almost cried.
His body tensed, shuddering, then collapsed into you, face buried against your chest, mumbling soft things you couldnât quite make out. You held him through it, kissing his forehead as he shook in your arms, your own pleasure humming hot under your skin.
You were just on the brink as well, but you could tell he needed a break.
âI wanna make you feel good too,â he whispered. âLie back. Please. Let me try.â
You blinked. âYou just came twice. You need to rest. â
âI know,â he whispered. âBut I didnât even get to touch you properly. And IâI think Iâll explode if I donât.â
You smiled softly. âYou donât have toââ
âI want to,â he cut in. âYou made me feel like my whole body was on fire and full of stars at the same time. I want to do that for you. Or at least try.â
Well. How could you say no to that?
You laid back slowly, watching him move between your legsâawkwardly at first, like he wasnât sure where to put his knees. His cheeks turned scarlet when he got a full view of you, mouth parting in a silent âoh my god.â
You reached for his hair, tugging lightly. âBreathe, baby.â
âI a-am,â he said, sounding like he absolutely was not. âYouâre justâyouâre soâhow am I supposed toââ His sentence died as he kissed your thigh, soft and reverent. âTell me what to do.â
You guided him at first. Where to put his mouth. How to use his tongue. What kind of pressure felt good. And oh, Matt was a quick study.
Tentative at firstâgentle, nervous licks, like he was afraid to go too far. But once you let out that first real moan, he got brave. Gripped your hips tighter. Groaned into you when you said his name. Got messier. Needier.
âRight there?â he gasped when your back arched. âLike that?â
You nodded breathlessly, thighs trembling around his head.
âFuck,â he whispered. âYou taste so good. Why didnât anyone tell me this would be likeâlike this?â
He buried his face in you after that, moaning softly, like he was the one getting off. His entire face was trying to push further and further into your sopping pussy, licking up every juice you were letting out.
His nose nudged just right, his tongue flicked faster, and when you clenched his hair and gasped out his name
He groaned loudly.
Your orgasm crashed over you like a wave, hot and overwhelming, and Matt just held on, staying there through every aftershock, every twitch, like he refused to come up until he was sure you were completely undone.
When he finally pulled back, his face was soaked down to his chin, lips kiss-swollen, and his smile was dazed and proud.
âI did okay?â he asked, voice hoarse.
You reached down, âM-matt, that was,â dragging him up to kiss you. âInsane.â
He buried his face in your neck and let out a muffled, exhausted, âBest. Day. Ever.â
First time you got jealous
It started off fine.
You and Matt had come to a small get-together at a friendâs apartmentâjust a cozy group of people, some music, snacks, and low lighting. At first, you were curled up next to him on the couch, his arm draped lazily over your shoulder, the two of you in your own little bubble.
And then she showed up.
You didnât know her name. You didnât want to know her name. All you knew was that she laughed a little too hard at Mattâs jokeâs, and she touched his arm a little too long when she complimented his hair.
Matt didnât even notice. He was just being his usual charming selfâsmiley and sweet, answering her questions like she wasnât clearly flirting with him while you sat literally two inches away.
You excused yourself to get a drink. More for emotional support than hydration.
When you came back, she was still there, still giggling, and MattâMatt was smilingâ AND blushing, and it was the smile he gave you when you made him laugh.
You plopped down next to him and not-so-subtly rested your hand on his thigh. Matt glanced down and smiled at you, oblivious.
âHey, you good?â he asked, leaning in slightly.
âIâm great,â you replied, a little too cheerily. Then you turned to the Flirt and said, âDo you need something, or were you just raised to hover?â
Matt choked.
The girl blinked, gave you a weird look, then mumbled something about checking on a friend and walked away. You watched her go like you were manifesting a trapdoor beneath her.
Matt blinked at you, wide-eyed. âBabeâŠâ
You turned to him. âWhat?â
âShe was just being friendly.â
You scoffed. âFriendly? Matt, she was one compliment away from climbing into your lap.â
Matt blinked a few times, still recovering from your snark. âI really think youâre overreacting. She wasnât flirting.â
You stared at him. âMatt. She touched your arm three times. I counted.â
âShe was just... touchy,â he said, weakly. âSome people are just like that.â
You raised an eyebrow. âAnd you blushed.â
Matt flushed even more. âI didnât blush.â
âYou so blushed. It was your flustered blush too, not the âitâs hot in hereâ blush. The one that means youâre shy and you liked the attention.â
He opened his mouth to argue, then hesitated. âNo-But I wasnât trying to like itââ
âOh my God,â you said, pulling your hand from his thigh and crossing your arms. âYou did like it.â
Matt looked stricken. âNo! Thatâs not what Iâbabe, no. I didnât like her, I likedâitâs justâyou werenât there and someone was being nice and it caught me off guard, and it didnât mean anything, I swear.â
You didnât say anything. Just stared straight ahead, jaw tight.
Matt groaned and scooted closer. âHey. Hey. Look at me.â When you didnât, he gently cupped your jaw and turned your face toward his. His expression was soft, earnest. âI swear, I didnât even realize it until you pointed it out. And if it made you feel even a little bit bad, Iâm sorry. I would never want you to think anyone could even come close to you. Iâm yours. Fully.â
You tried not to melt. Failed.
ââŠYou liked the attention a little bit,â you muttered.
âI swear I didnât. But like your jealousy? Way hotter. Honestly, if youâd actually fought her I wouldâve passed out.â
You rolled your eyes, but leaned in anyway, bumping your nose against his. âNext time someone flirts with you, Iâm not warning her. Iâm swinging.â
Matt grinned, brushing a kiss to your lips. âGot it. Iâll start wearing a âI have a girlfriendâ shirt to social events.â
âYou think I wonât get you one?â
He kissed you again, and this time, there was no one else in the room. Just him, you, and the quiet satisfaction of winning.
First time he made you squirt
You were tangled up in your sheets again, the low hum of your fan spinning overhead, the room dim with only the lazy spill of golden-hour light pushing through the curtains. Mattâs fingers were fidgeting with the hem of your sleep shirt, his eyes darting from your collarbone to your lips, then away again, like the sight of you was too much all at once.
âYouâre looking at me weird,â you teased, brushing his hair out of his eyes.
Matt flushed. Flushed. That deep pink that crawled from his ears to his cheeks, like youâd caught him doing something scandalous. He groaned softly and buried his face in your neck.
âIâm not,â he mumbled into your skin. âYou justâlook really pretty right now.â
Your fingers tightened in his hair.
âRight now?â you echoed, grinning. âNot, like, always?â
He whined, lifting his head just enough to glance at you. âStop. You know what I mean.â He was smiling, but his voice had that hushed, almost whimpery quality it got when he was overwhelmed. You loved it. Loved the way his hands were already slipping up under your shirt like he was asking permission without saying a word.
Matt made a small, needy sound and melted against you, his fingers still trembling just slightly as they traced along your ribs, then lower. When you pulled back to look at him, his pupils were wide, his lips parted.
You were already bare-chested, sitting up and straddling Mattâs lap, but he still looked overwhelmed.
âYouâre shaking,â you murmured, smiling against his jaw.
âIâm notââ His voice cracked as you shifted against him. âOkay, yeah. Maybe.â
Your hands slipped into his hair, tugging gently. âYou nervous?â
You smirked. âGood.â
Eventually, you flipped them over, guiding him to kneel behind you as you braced on your elbows. You heard his breath hitch when he got the full view. He wasnât touching you yetâjust looking, frozen like you were art he was scared to ruin.
âYou can touch,â you teased, voice low and warm.
That broke the spell. Mattâs hands slid over your hips, tentative at first, thumbs brushing the dip of your lower back. You could feel him trembling again, but it didnât stop him from leaning down and pressing the softest kiss to your spine.
Then another. And another.
His fingers trailed lower, between your thighs, and you let out a quiet gasp as he explored with slow, shallow strokes.
âYou okay?â he whispered.
âYeah,â you breathed. âFeels good. Keep going.â
Matt obeyed instantly, licking his lips like he was trying to stay focused. You could hear his ragged breathing as he slid his fingers inside youâso careful, so hesitant. And when he felt you clench around him, he made the softest sound: âOh my godâŠâ
His fingers started to curl, slow and searching. He didnât know exactly what he was doingâhe just knew he wanted you to fall apart. That he loved hearing your breath catch, loved the way your thighs trembled the more pressure he added.
He plunged his fingers in and out, leaning down to place his lips around your clit and swirl his tongue around.
You gasped at the contact.
Matt froze. âWas that okay?â
âYesâfuck, yesâjustâdonât stopââ
He didnât even think. He kept that same pressure, same rhythm, his other hand anchoring tight on your hip as you pushed back into his touch. He was panting now too, overwhelmed, lips parted like he was barely holding it together.
âMatt,â you choked out, âyouâreâholy shitâdonât stopââ
It hit fast. A wave crashing through you, intense and blinding. Your body tensedâand then gushed.
Matt jolted as wetness sprayed onto his wrist and thigh. His mouth dropped open.
âWhat theââ He stared at his soaked fingers. âDid Iâ?â
You collapsed forward, breathing hard, too stunned to even speak. Youâd neverâeverâdone that before.
Matt sat back on his heels, still blinking like he was in shock. His boxers were damp now. His arm was soaked. He looked wrecked.
ââŠDid I make you⊠squirt?â he whispered.
You huffed out a breathless laugh. âO-oh my god.â
He looked down at you like heâd just unlocked a cheat code. Still blushing. Still dazed. And maybeâjust a littleâproud.
ââŠThat was insane,â he mumbled.
You could only nod, hips still twitching from aftershocks.
Almost hesitantly, he leans forwards and licks you, slurping up the juices.
Matt reached out, brushing his fingertips along your spine. âCan I⊠still be inside you?â
You turned your head, eyes heavy. âYou better be.â
First Anniversary
You hear a soft knock before dawn, and when you open the door, Mattâs thereâ holding a small, slightly wild bouquet of flowers. Theyâre not fancy, but perfect. âHappy anniversary,â he says, cheeks pink, eyes bright but shy.
You smile, heart already doing that stupid flutter thing. âYouâre early.â
He shrugs, grinning like heâs won something. âI wanted to surprise you. Todayâs all planned. No backing out.â
You grab his hand, feeling the warmth thatâs not just from the flowers. With a quick motion, he sweeped you around dramatically, kissing you while you leaned back all the way.
You let out a surprised giggle, then put your hands on either side of his face.
âI love you, baby,â you whisper.
His face turns pink and crinkles with joy. âI love you more.â
_______
He lets you change out of pajamas while he waits in the kitchen, and when you come out, heâs set up a little breakfast picnic on the floor: toast, strawberries, whipped cream, and a small thermos of your favorite drink. Thereâs even a playlist softly playing in the backgroundâhe made it himself, and itâs all songs that remind him of you.
You raise a brow. âYou made this whole playlist?â
He flushes. âItâs kind of embarrassing. One of them has your name in the lyrics.â
You press a kiss to his cheek. âThatâs the cutest thing Iâve ever heard.â
He actually smiles a little when you do that, then tries to play it cool and offers you a strawberry like that will make him less flustered.
After breakfast, he hands you a tiny envelope.
âOpen it when I tell you,â he says mysteriously. âNo peeking.â
Then he leads you outside, clearly trying to hide how excited he is. You walk to a small park you used to visit all the time when you first got together. There, under your favorite tree, is a little setup: two foldable lawn chairs, a sketchbook, and a small box of supplies.
âI thought⊠maybe we could draw each other.â
You waggle your eyebrows and grin. âLike one of your French girls?â
âNoâ!â His face flushes. âIâI mean if you want? Iâ!â
âIâm messing with you, Matt.â Youâre laughing as you sit across from him, and the two of you draw, occasionally glancing up at each other and bursting into giggles.
Lunch is homemadeâby him. He packed it himself: sandwiches with little hearts cut into the bread (yes really), a tiny note tucked under the tupperware that says âur hot and I love you :)â
You keep the note.
In the afternoon, he takes you to a local art exhibitâsomething quiet and beautiful. You walk through slowly, sometimes holding hands, sometimes just letting your pinkies brush. He leans in close during one painting and whispers, âThat one reminds me of the way you look when youâre sleepy.â
You turn to find him already looking at you.
âIâm so glad I met you.â you whisper.
He ducks his head with a smile. âMe too. You have no idea.â
As the sun starts to set, he finally lets you open the envelope.
Inside is a small card and a single pressed flower from the first bouquet he ever gave you.
On the back is a list:
âReasons Iâve loved you every day this year.â Thereâs 365 of them.
âI was gonna just write one,â he says, hand rubbing the back of his neck. âBut then⊠I couldnât stop.â
You fling your arms around him and donât let go for a while.
That night, he cuddles you in bed, forehead pressed to yours, still pink when you say heâs the sweetest boy on earth. He mumbles something into your neck you donât quite catch.
âWhat was that?â you whisper.
âI said Iâm gonna love you for a lot more years.â
You kiss him again.
He kisses backâ entirely, completely yours.
FINALLY.
Itâs just after sunset when he takes your hand.
The sky is that kind of softâstreaked with violet and gold like itâs blushing for youâand thereâs a quietness in the air that feels intentional. Like even the wind knows whatâs coming.
âCome with me,â he says gently, fingers warm in yours.
You follow him up a familiar pathâa small hill where the two of you used to come to watch the stars back when you were still unsure of what this was. Itâs quieter now. Grown. Like both of you.
At the top, thereâs nothing fancy. No flowers. No decorations. Just a soft, folded blanket, and a lantern that glows like candlelight in the middle. He lights it with a flick of his thumb and sits down, patting the space next to him.
You sit. And your heart starts thudding when you see heâs nervous.
Not shy nervous.
Trembling-hands, canât-meet-your-eyes nervous.
He opens his mouth. Closes it. Breathes in.
âIâve been trying to plan the perfect way to tell you this,â he says, voice quieter than usual.
You tilt your head, completely obvious and confused. âMatt, are you good? You can tell me anything you know.â
He grins at that, but doesnât look at you right away. He picks at the edge of the blanket instead, like heâs walking himself toward something.
âI know,â he says finally. âThatâs kind of the problem. You make everything too easy. I had this whole dramatic thing planned. Flashy. Big. Public.â He glances at you. âYou wouldâve hated it.â
You snort. âCorrect.â
He laughs again, but this time, his eyes flick to yours and hold. His hand slides over to yours, fingers curling between yours slow and deliberate.
âSo I thought maybe Iâd just take you here,â he says, âwhere it all started. Just us. The stars. A blanket. Like the first time you made fun of my hoodie and accidentally made me fall in love with you.â
Youâre still grinning, still thinking this is just some sweet, nostalgic moment on a hill you both love.Â
He shifts onto one knee.
You still donât register it.
Youâre smiling at him, waiting for the punchline, until you realizeâ
heâs still down.
And heâs pulling something out of his jacket.
Your heart stutters.
âMatt,â you say, a whisper.
âI didnât want you to see it coming,â he says softly. âBecause I want this to feel like how itâs always felt with youâsudden. And perfect. And exactly where Iâm meant to be.â
He opens the box, and the ring inside catches the warm flicker of the lantern light.
You go still.
Completely, utterly still.
âI love you,â he says. No trembling. No hesitation. Just truth. âAnd I want to keep loving you. In every version of our life, every phase, every morning-after and fight and late-night grocery run I love you more than anything in this entire world, and I will spend the rest of my life for you, with you.â
A moment passes.
âWill you marry me?â
You stare at him.
Your hand is over your mouth. Your chest is a mess. There are tears in your eyes and you donât even remember them starting.
âAre youâMatt, are you serious?â
He smilesâwide and boyish and a little cocky now. âYeah. Been serious for a while.â
Youâre grabbing his face and kissing him so hard you both fall sideways onto the blanket, the box somewhere between you, forgotten for now becauseâ
âI love you I love you I love you,â you whisper again, voice breaking against his skin as you pepper kisses across his cheeks, his jaw, his mouth. âI canât believe you just did that!â
Heâs blinking up at you, stunned by the force of it. âIs that a yes?â
âYES!!â You shout it. âYESâof course itâs a yesâyou insane, incredible, perfect man!â
He lets out a choked little laugh and finally gets the ring on your finger, both of you shaking, neither of you letting go.
âI was trying to be smooth,â he mumbles into your neck.
âYou ambushed me,â you giggle back. âI didnât see it coming at all.â
And he smiles, eyes bright, because your heartâs still racing, and your hands are still clutching his shirt, and you keep whisperingâ
âI love you I love you I love you,â
Like youâll never get tired of saying it.
And heâll never, ever, ever get tired of hearing it.
a/n- if you got this far, I LOVE YOU!
i put my entire soul into this fic, and I am praying to every god that this doesnt flop and people are actually willing to read all 15,000 words.
if this does flop, i'm going to release each part as an au, bc i worked way too hard on this for people to not read it.
At Vivianne Hall, a university reserved for the heirs of billionaires, politicians, and royalty, reputation isnât just important â itâs everything.
Julianna De Francis, known simply as Jules, understands that better than anyone. With her ex-ballerina poise, flawless image, and unshakable composure, sheâs the embodiment of perfection. Nothing threatens her carefully curated world more than Christopher Sturniolo â the cocky basketball star known for his scandalous reputation and the infuriating smirk sheâs despised since childhood. They were raised in the same elite circles but have never managed to get along. To Jules, Chris is arrogant, impulsive, and a walking headline. To Chris, Jules is uptight, artificial, and frustratingly untouchable. As family expectations mount and their every move is scrutinized, sharp remarks and lingering stares begin to unravel something neither of them anticipated. In a world where image is power and secrets have consequences, falling for each other might become the most dangerous move of allâŠ
TW: The series does include some triggering topics. Warnings will be at top of chapters.
WARNINGS : DRY HUMPING. CUMMING IN PANTS. SUB!CHRIS. DOM!READER. CHRIS HAS A WET DREAM. SEXSOMNIA (?).
chris is still having said wet dream in this so he is asleep. please talk about these kinds of things with your partners before you engage in any sort of activity like this. consent is important people!!
your room was dark and quietâyour mind heavy with sleep as you slowly started to stir awake from whatever dream you were having. it wasnât common for you to sleep all the way through the night, always being woken from either your body or hearing someone move around the house.
but this time it wasnât from either of those.
slowly your body stirred, your eyes fluttering open, mind taking just a moment to catch up to yourself. you blinked a few times, eyes squinting and brows furrowing as you try to adjust to the darkness of your room.
you groaned when you registered that you were awake, mentally cursing your body for not letting you stay asleep all night like you had wanted toâconsidering you were so exhausted before you fell asleep in the first place.
you sighed, still to tired to grab your phone to see what time it was, but really you couldnât with the way chris was grabbing onto you. gently you went to shift yourself, hoping to get comfortable enough to fall back asleep, but something caught your attention before you could really move too much.
chris was in front you, completely knocked out, his breath hot against your neck as his face was nuzzled into it. one of his arms was slung lazily around your waist, his body pressed tightly to yours like he was trying to mold himself to you.
but really that wasnât what caught your attention, this was normal for chris to be so close to you. if he could crawl into your skin, youâre sure he would. no, it was something else.
it was the way his hips were slowly moving and shifting as he slept.
you stayed still, blinking at the darkness in front of you while your brain caught up with what your body was feeling. chris was grinding against your thigh. your leg was trapped between his, the softness of his sweats were rubbing against your bare skin. you were wearing one of his shirts and a pair of your pantiesâit was his favorite on you, it always made him blush and look away when you wore it.
the desperate boy was humping your leg in his sleep like a dog in heat.
it was a slow desperate rut, his body chasing whatever relief he could get, even if he didnât know what he was doing.
you barely moved yourself, just enough to tilt your head and glance down at him the best you could with how he was tucked against you. sure enough, you could see the subtle flex of his hips under the blanket. his breathing was shallowâlips were parted as he started to pant against the skin of your neck.
you couldnât help but smirk at the sight of him, knowing he was probably dreaming about something he shouldnât beâor someoneâthat someone being you. even in his sleep he couldnât get enough of you, it was like he wanted you any chance he got.
âchris?.â you murmured softly, testing to see if he was truly sleeping or just pretending. but he didnât wake. he just let out a breathy little whine and rolled his hips a little harder against you. his grip on your waist began to tighten, like his sleeping mind didnât want you going anywhere.
you bit your lip, feeling the way your panties started to become damp knowing your boy was getting off to a wet dream of you.
godâhe was so pathetic like this. so worked up and drooling over you in his dreams, clinging to you in his sleep like some needy little boy. you could feel the damp spot soaking through his sweats nowâbecoming bigger with each rut of his hip. he mustâve been at this for a while now, his cock was so hard against your thigh, it mustâve hurt.
no wonder your sweet boy couldnât help himself, just rutting and grinding onto whatever was closest to him. every slow rut sent a faint, sticky drag against your skin.
âgettinâ off on me in your sleep, huh?â you whispered into his hair, your hand slowly coming out to slip under the blankets, gripping his hip tightly as you began to help him get himself off on your thigh.
chris twitchedâa soft whimper leaving his lips, his breath stuttering as his hips now bucked a little faster. âmmâfuck.â he mumbled, nearly silent. âPlease.â he was whiny, the need evident in his sleep laced voiceâyou didnât think he even realized he was saying it.
you pressed your leg up into his cock just a little, and he gaspedâstill asleep. you could tell he was close, the way he was rutting quickly against your thigh now, whimpers slipping out as he whispered âpleaseâ over and over again.
your own breathing became heavier, matching the lace of his own. you couldnât help how turned on you were with this. âcâmon baby, cum all over mama.â you whispered against his ear and that was all it took before his sleeping figure began to shake.
it was like he could hear youâhe probably couldâjust in his dreams, and you wondered what exactly he was dreaming about.
his breath caught in his throat, hips stuttering into a few desperate thrusts before you felt the way the thick spurts of him cum painted the inside of his pantsâthe damp patch growing even larger than before, making a mess and soaking your thigh. you exhaled as he went stillâa tiny whimper slipped from his mouth, and then he relaxed again, his body limp, spent, and satisfied.
you chuckled lightly, the hand on his hip giving it a little squeeze before you wrapped it around him, pulling him closer to your body as you cuddled him. you didnât care about the way your thigh felt wet now from his mess, just happy you were able to help him.
and before you dozed back off, you thought to yourselfâyou were definitely going to tease him for this later.
a/n : now idk if people will fw this considering the circumstances it takes place under
âcan we⊠wait?â matt asks as soon as you adjust yourself on your sit, ready to get up. you furrow your eyebrows, silently asking matt to explain himself. âi c-canât get upâ he confesses, crossing his arms together.
âwhat do you mean you canât get up?â you say, tilting your head. matt chews on his bottom lip, and you take a good look at him. maybe he ate too much, or was feeling uncomfortable. but as your eyes scan through mattâs body, you notice what he was trying to hide â a boner.
you chuckle at him, you fingers going to the back of his head, gently tugging on his hair. âwould you mind explaining?â you ask, and matt lets out a heavy sigh at your sweet tone. âyou just look so goodâ he admits, âd-dunno⊠just got excitedâ
you nod, your gaze flickering between the restaurant and his growing erection. you move closer to him, resting one of your hands on his thigh, groping his flesh. matt chokes on a moan due the sudden contact, trying to cover his reaction with a cough.
he hides his face on the crook of your neck, pretending to press a kiss onto your skin. âplease, it hurtsâ he says, thrusting his hips upwards, begging for a bit of friction. you reach for his crotch, palming his cock over his clothes and gradually increasing the pressure, allowing matt to grind against your hand.
matt muffles on your ear, trying to form a proper sentence. âyouâre not gonna cum in your pants like a virgin little boy are you?â you tease, receiving a long whine in response â of course he was. âreally? wouldnât you rather fuck mama right in that alley we passed by before entering?â you ask, and matt immediately stops his movements. he pulls away, widening his blue orbs and gulping, nodding eagerly. he looks down at his pants, realizing there was no way could hide his hardened dick.
he timidly gets up, following your steps through the front door. mattâs cheeks are burning red, embarrassment taking over him as he walks out with a pathetic boner between his legs.
you drag matt to the nearest alley, slamming his body against the brick wall. you trail kisses over his collarbone as you unbutton his shirt, leaving a huge mark on his pale skin. âmy needy needy boyâ you coo, noticing matt grinding against your thigh once more.
your fingers travel to his waistband, unzipping his jeans and entering his underwear. matt gasps as you wrap your knuckles around his shaft, twisting your fist in a quick pace. his mouth falls open, a perfect âoâ shape as he throws his head back. itâs all too much â your voice, your touch, the fear and risk of getting caught.
âinsideâ he moans. contrary to his pillow prince instincts, matt holds your hips closer to him, tightening his grip. âneed inside mama pleaseâ matt begs, his tone a little too loud. you chuckle at his desperation before lifting your skirt and removing your panties, hearing matt whining at the sight. and you know heâs not going to shut up any time soon.
âshhhâ you shush him, glueing your chest against his. you cup his cheeks, gently caressing his skin with your thumb. matt nods, eager to please you. âyou wanna get caught donât you?â you ask as you lower yourself on his cock.
mattâs whimpers turn into small cries as you start to move, feeling his dick fill you up entirely. his oozing, swollen tip hits your cervix and your pussy immediately contracts around his girth, a loud moan escaping from the back of his throat. you roll your eyes, both form pleasure and annoyance. matt wonât remain quiet, but a solution comes to your mind.
you grab your wet â soaked â panties, taking advantage of mattâs submission. you shove the fabric inside his mouth, and matt groans since he can no longer speak. heâs intoxicated by your taste, your scent taking over his senses.
âmuch betterâ you praise, bouncing on his cock. you can feel the knot in your lower tummy tightening, your approaching orgasm causing your legs to tremble. matt wraps his large, cold palms around your thighs, keeping your balance. he thrusts into you, bruising your sweet spot countless times. âwan cum baby boy? fill me up real good?â you ask as matt drools on your panties, completely drenching them.
it doesnât take long until mattâs orgasm washes over him, his warm, thick cum spurting painting your walls in white. you cum soon after, your leaking juices coating his girth in wetness.
matt pulls out, panting heavily. a naughty, satisfied smile dancing across his face. âletâs go you loud, needy boy⊠iâm gonna finish taking care of you at homeâ you say as you finally remove your panties from his mouth, placing a kiss on his lips before putting them on again.
DAY TWO! thank you so much for the overwhelming support on this project đ€ iâm glad you guys are enjoying it so much! if you would like to be added to the taglist, please comment on this post! love yall sm mwah
You're an 18-year-old high school senior, the innocent little sister of Matt's best friend. Which means off-limits in every way.But 22-year-old college hockey player, Matt can't ignore the way you cling to him, asking dangerous questions with trusting eyes. You don't understand the fire you're playing with- but Matt does. And he's burning to teach you what happens when you get too close.
story warnings: fingering in public, talk of religion, lowkey corruption kink (if u squint), brothers best friend, pet names (sweetheart, angel), age gap (four years), etc. all characters are of age. If any of these topics upset you...don't read!
word count: 5k
ib: @ariestrxsh's young god
The glow of morning sun filters through your sheer white curtains. You stir beneath the covers, your body still plagued with sleep, stretching slightly as your fingers blindly search for your phone on your nightstand.
Your screen lights up with unread notifications, but one in particular makes your stomach flip.
Matt.
You rub your eyes, still groggy, and slide on your glasses before clicking on his name. Your heart stutters when you see the unread message- an attachment.
A video.
Your brows furrow as your fingers hover over the screen. Matt never sends you videos. Hell, he rarely ever texts you.
You tap it.
And the moment the video starts playing, you freeze.
The dim glow of the bathroom light casts sharp shadows across Mattâs bare chest, his abs flexing, his head tilted back slightly as he breathes heavily.
Your breath catches.
You donât understand what youâre watching at first.
His hand is wrapped around himself, moving in long, languid strokes. His muscles tense and flex with every movement, his lips parting slightly as a low, wrecked groan slips past them.
You swallow hard.
His pace picks up, his body shifting slightly, his grip tightening as his head tilts further back, exposing the sharp line of his throat. His abs tighten, his thighs tense, his chest heaving with every ragged breath.
âFuck, Y/N-â
Your eyes widen, your stomach flipping so hard it makes you dizzy.
That was your name.
He moaned your name.
Your thighs press together instinctively, a warmth curling deep in your belly as the video continues.
You canât look away.
Mattâs body jerks, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his groans deep, strained, desperate. And then he tenses completely, a sharp, shuddering breath leaving him as his muscles lock tight.
And then- release.
Your face burns, your entire body flushing hot as you watch the final moments. Watch as his hand slows, his stomach slick and messy, his breathing uneven, his body wrecked.
Your fingers tremble slightly as you clutch your phone, your breath short, shallow, confused.
Because you donât know what you just watched.
But you know it made you feel something.
Something warm.
Something needy.
Your thighs squeeze together again as you stare at the screen, your lips parting slightly as your chest rises and falls unevenly.
Your heart pounds against your ribs as you stare at the screen, completely dazed, your breath coming in shallow, uneven bursts.
Matt had sent you this.
On purpose.
Your body is warm, restless, tingling with something, something you donât quite understand.
You knew this feeling when you were around Matt and when he would touch you. But youâve never felt it⊠by yourself.
Why did he send you that?
Your thighs press together again as your stomach flutters, heat pooling low, spreading through you like something dangerous. You can still hear him. Can still hear the way he moaned your name, the way his breath stuttered, the way his body shook before he-
Your face burns.
Your fingers tighten around your phone as your mind races.
You remember how he made you feel.
Your stomach twists, heat curling low, and before you can think, your free hand drifts lower, ghosting over the hem of your oversized shirt.
Your breath catches as you shift beneath the covers, slowly spreading your legs, mimicking how you had been sitting when Matt was between them the night before.
You donât know what youâre doing.
But you try anyway.
Your fingers skim down your stomach, light, tentative, tracing the same path his had.
Your breathing hitches when you reach the waistband of your underwear, fingers slipping just beneath, barely brushing over the heat between your thighs.
A soft, startled gasp leaves your lips.
Itâs warm.
Wet.
You pause, blinking up at the ceiling, your chest rising and falling in uneven bursts.
Thatâs what he said, right?
âWhen you get wet, my dick gets hard.â
You shudder.
Your fingers hesitate, hovering, remembering the way Matt had touched you, the way his nose pressed into you, teasing, flicking, rubbing-
Your stomach tightens as you try to mimic it, pressing the pads of your fingers against the same spot.
Your body jolts.
A soft, breathless whimper escapes before you can stop it, your legs twitching, your thighs clamping slightly before you force yourself to relax.
Your head tilts back against the pillow, your lips parting as you try it again. Slower this time, circling, teasing, just like Matt had.
The sensation is foreign, but intoxicating.
Itâs not nearly the same- not as strong, not as overwhelming as when he did it- but itâs good enough.
Your breathing stutters, your body tense, restless, aching.
Your hips shift, pressing into your own touch, trying to chase that unfamiliar pleasure that still lingers from last night.
A soft, helpless moan spills from your lips.
Your entire body locks up.
You slap a hand over your mouth, your face burning, your heart pounding wildly.
Did you just-
Did you just moan?
By yourself?
Your legs press tightly together, heat surging through you as your chest rises and falls in quick, frantic breaths.
You donât understand whatâs happening to you.
But you know one thing for sure.
Matt was right.
It does feel even better than being on fire.
Youâre still catching your breath, your body burning, heat thrumming low in your stomach when-
Knock, knock, knock.
Your entire body flinches, legs crossing together out of Instinct.
âHey! Weâre going to church and then out for breakfast before we leave tomorrow. Get dressed!â Your brotherâs voice is muffled through the door.
Your eyes widen, panic shooting through you as you scramble to sit up, gripping your sheets with trembling fingers.
âO-okay!â you stammer, your voice too high, too breathless.
Thereâs a pause.
ââŠYou good?â
Your face burns.
âYeah!â you blurt, way too fast. âI-Iâll be down in a sec!â
Another pause.
âAlright⊠just hurry up.â
His footsteps fade down the hall, and you collapse back against your pillows, mortified.
What the hell just happened?
Your phone is still beside you, the screen dimmed but still open to Mattâs text- the video.
Your stomach twists, and you shut your phone off immediately, as if thatâll erase what you just did. As if itâll make the ache between your thighs disappear.
It doesnât.
You take a deep breath, willing yourself to calm down, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed. You take off your clothes and grab your new ones, slipping into the delicate white floral dress, the soft fabric brushing against your thighs, followed by a light blue knit cardigan that falls loosely around your shoulders. The combination is sweet and innocent and soft.
The opposite of what you had just been doing.
You slide on your usual thigh-high socks before grabbing your coat, bundling up for the cold. A few final touches- light makeup, soft curls in your hair, glasses perched on your nose- and you almost feel normal.
Almost.
You take another steadying breath before stepping out into the hallway and making your way downstairs.
The second you hit the last step, you freeze.
Matt is already there.
And he looks straight out of a magazine cover- navy sweater, loose-fitting light-wash jeans, white sneakers, his hair slightly messy but effortlessly perfect. Heâs leaning against the kitchen counter, hands in his pockets, looking so casual, so smug, so completely unaware of what heâs doing to you.
Except you know heâs aware.
Because the second his eyes land on you his lips twitch.
His gaze flickers down your frame, slowly, taking in your soft outfit, the way your sweater hangs off your shoulders, the way you canât even look him in the eye.
His smirk deepens.
You swallow hard, suddenly hyper-aware of everything. The way your body still tingles. The way your cheeks burn just from standing near him. The way your thighs press together on instinct, as if your body remembers everything he made you feel.
And Matt? He knows.
His smirk turns into something wicked, knowing, teasing.
âYou get my text?â
Your entire body locks up. Your breath catches, and you snap your eyes up to his, your face burning, heat rushing straight to your cheeks.
âM-Matt,â you hiss, voice barely above a whisper, panicked.
He just grins, tilting his head slightly, leaning in a fraction closer and invading your space.
Your stomach flutters violently.
âWhat?â he murmurs, so smug, so amused. âJust making sure you saw it.â
You swear your heart is going to stop.
âI-â You fumble over your words, completely flustered, gripping your cardigan tightly in your fingers.
Matt leans in even closer, just enough that his breath brushes your ear.
âDid you enjoy it, angel?â
Your stomach drops. Your thighs press together even tighter, your body betraying you.
Câmon, letâs go!â your brother calls from the front door, already halfway out toward the car. âWeâre gonna be late if you two donât hurry up.â
You jump, your stomach still twisting from the way Mattâs eyes havenât left you.
You chance one last glance at him, still leaning against the counter, still looking so smug, so entertained by your reaction, before you force yourself to move, tugging your coat around you as you step outside.
The cold air is sharp, stinging your cheeks as you make your way to the car. Your brother is already in the driverâs seat, and you barely register Matt sliding into the back before youâre climbing in as well, pulling the door shut behind you.
Your brother doesnât seem to make a big deal out of it since his hockey bag was in the passenger seat.
âDude, you know you couldâve moved it?â He turns back and asks Matt.
Matt simply shrugs and buckles his seatbelt. âSeemed like too much work. Plus I thought we were late.â
Your brother simply nods and turns back, starting the car.
The drive is quiet- at least, for you.
Your brother is rambling about something, half-paying attention to the road, while Matt sits next to you in the back seat, far too relaxed, his arm casually draped over the back of your seat.
You donât even realize youâve been fidgeting with your hands in your lap until Matt murmurs under his breath-
âYou nervous, angel?â
Your entire body locks up.
Your head snaps toward him, your breath catching in your throat.
âI-â You shake your head quickly, too fast. âNo!â
Matt just smirks, his eyes heavy-lidded, unreadable, like heâs playing a game you donât even understand yet.
You swallow hard, facing forward, ignoring him, ignoring the way your thighs press together again, ignoring the way your body still buzzes from the memory of his video.
Once you arrive at Church, the three of you settle into one of the long wooden pews. The service was already starting, the soft hum of hymns filling the high-arched ceilings. You sit at the end, Matt next to you, your brother on his other side, flipping through the program without much interest.
At first, you try to focus.
You really do.
The preacherâs voice is steady, warm, talking about grace, patienceâŠ. temptation.
Your cheeks burn.
You shake the thought away, gripping the hem of your dress, keeping your legs crossed tightly as the choir starts singing.
About halfway through the sermon, your brother shifts in his seat.
You glance over. Heâs asleep.
His head is tilted slightly, arms crossed, breathing deep and even.
Matt notices too.
And suddenly the air changes. You feel it before anything even happens.
A shift. A weight. A slow, creeping awareness that has nothing to do with the sermon and everything to do with the warm hand suddenly resting on your thigh.
Your breath stutters but Matt doesnât look at you. His gaze is still forward, casual, collected, unaffected.
But his hand moves. Slow and oh so deliberate.
His fingers drag up, tracing small, teasing circles just above your knee, making your stomach flip, your skin tingle.
Your grip on your dress tightens. You donât dare move.
Matt leans in slightly, his voice barely above a whisper, dangerously close to your ear.
âDid you watch it all?â
You turn your head, eyes wide, lips parted in silent shock.
He still doesnât look at you. His fingers slide higher. Your thighs twitch, a small, helpless movement, but Matt notices.
His lips twitch.
âYou did, didnât you?â he murmurs, his thumb pressing slightly into the soft skin of your inner thigh, just beneath the hem of your dress.
You nod, too flustered to speak.
Matt hums, his voice low, teasing, knowing.
âDid you like it?â
Your face burns. Your fingers dig into the fabric of your dress, desperate for something to hold onto.
Mattâs fingers trace slow, lazy circles, inching up higher and higher.
Your thighs squeeze together, but it only traps his hand between them. Matt exhales a quiet chuckle.
âYouâre always trying to hide from me, angel,â he murmurs, the edge of his knuckles brushing against the heat between your thighs. âDonât you like the way I make you feel?â
You gasp, your breath shaky, your legs trembling.
Matt finally tilts his head toward you, his lips barely an inch from your ear.
âYouâre so innocent,â he whispers, voice gravelly, low, sinful. âDid you even know what I was doing to myself in that video?â
Your breath shatters.
You donât answer. You canât. Your head shakes, your throat dry, tight, overwhelmed.
Matt chuckles again, his fingers teasing the hem of your dress, ghosting along the edge. âI figured.â
Mattâs fingers trace higher, the heat of his palm pressing against your inner thigh, sending sharp jolts of something warm through your body.
You can barely breathe, your chest rising and falling in short, uneven bursts.
Mattâs posture remains relaxed, unbothered, like he isnât slowly pushing your boundaries, teasing you in the middle of church, with your brother sitting right beside him- completely unaware.
âSo you liked it, didnât you?â he murmurs, his fingers curling slightly against your skin, a slow drag upward. âYou wouldnât have watched the whole thing if you didnât.â
Your thighs clench around his hand even tighter, a helpless attempt to control the warmth spreading through you.
A low, quiet chuckle escapes his lips, mocking, teasing.
âDirty girl,â he whispers, his lips barely brushing the shell of your ear. âLetting me touch you like this-â His fingers drag higher, just under the hem of your dress. â-in church.â
Your entire body tenses, your face burning, your breathing shaky and uneven.
âMatty-â
Your voice comes out as a soft, breathless plea, barely audible.
Matt just smirks.
His fingers slide all the way up, brushing over the soft, bare skin of your hip-
And then he freezes.
You donât understand at first.
His body goes completely still, his breath hitching, his grip tightening.
And then you realize.
His fingers meet nothing but skin.
No underwear.
Mattâs entire demeanor changes.
His smirk fades.
His breathing deepens and slows.
His fingers twitch against your skin, as if heâs restraining himself from doing something more. Something heâd regret.
A low, almost pained exhale slips from his lips, barely audible over the preacherâs voice.
âFuck.â
Itâs not loud.
But you hear it.
And the way his fingers tighten- how his thumb digs into your thigh, how his grip shakes just slightly- makes your stomach flip.
Matt leans in, his lips brushing just beneath your ear, his voice low, strained, wrecked.
âAngel,â he whispers, his breath heavy. âYouâre gonna be the death of me.â
Your breath catches, your body locking up as Mattâs fingers still against your bare skin.
His grip is tight, his jaw clenched, his entire body tense beside you.
You feel hot all over, burning, heat flooding through you in ways that make your head spin.
âI- IâŠâ Your voice stammers, weak, barely above a whisper. âI- Iâm sorry, I didnât- I didnât have time- I was rushing, and I was- â
You cut yourself off.
Your face burns, realization hitting you too late.
Your body betrays you, heat pooling between your thighs, dripping into the space where Mattâs fingers still rest.
His grip tightens, his breath slow, deliberate, dangerous.
His lips brush against the shell of your ear, his voice so low, so dark, so wrecked it makes your entire body shudder.
âYou were what, angel?â
You canât speak. You canât move. You can only sit there, humiliated, mortified, so unbearably turned on you think you might die.
Matt leans in closer, closer, his nose brushing against your cheek, his lips barely grazing your skin.
âTell me,â he whispers, mocking, teasing, his fingers dragging over your hip, pressing into your thigh.
âWhat were you doing⊠that made you get ready without any panties?â
You whimper, your legs shaking, your body betraying you again.
A slow, wicked chuckle rumbles from Mattâs chest, his fingers tightening, gripping, holding you in place as he feels the way you react to him.
Mattâs fingers stay still, his grip tight against your bare thigh, his breath slow and deliberate against your ear.
You feel trapped.
Not because you want to get away- because you donât. Because you canât. Because every teasing brush of his fingers against your skin sends a new wave of warmth flooding through you, pooling deep in your stomach, making it hard to breathe.
âYou were what, sweetheart?â
His voice is low, dark, dripping with something dangerous.
You swallow, your throat dry, your body trembling beneath his touch.
âI- I was just- â
Your breath shudders, your thoughts scatter, your hands gripping the hem of your dress tightly, twisting the fabric in your fists.
Mattâs lips twitch.
âThatâs not an answer.â
His fingers move.
Just the slightest shift- his knuckles brushing higher, teasing the soft, sensitive skin of your inner thigh.
You whimper.
Itâs quiet, barely audible over the preacherâs voice, but Matt hears it.
His grip tightens, his thumb pressing into your skin, his head tilting slightly as he watches you- studying you, unraveling you.
âYou were what?â he repeats, his voice rougher, more demanding now.
Your thighs clench together again instinctively and you let out a whimper as it traps his knuckles right against your slit.
Matt exhales a quiet, mocking chuckle.
âYouâre making this too easy for me, angel.â
Your body jerks, your breath hitching sharply, your entire face burning.
âI- I was- â
You squeeze your eyes shut, your heart pounding, pounding, pounding.
But Matt wonât let up.
His thumb drags slow, lazy circles against your thigh, and his other hand- the one not ruining you beneath your dress- grips your chin, forcing you to face him.
Your eyes flutter open, and Mattâs gaze is already waiting for you.
âSay it.â
Your lips part, but no sound comes out, your chest rising and falling rapidly, your pulse hammering in your throat.
Mattâs fingers press into your thigh, gripping firmly.
His voice drops lower, almost a whisper.
âTell me what you were doing.â
Your entire body is trembling, the heat between your legs growing unbearable, your skin burning under his touch.
And when his fingers shift just a little higher, his knuckles grazing so, so close-
It breaks you.
âI- I was watching your video and trying to⊠touch myself.â
The confession spills from your lips in a shaky breath, your entire body going still the second you say it.
Matt does too.
For a moment, he just stares at you, his jaw tight, tense, his chest rising and falling in slow, measured breaths.
Then, his lips part slightly, and he smirks.
âGood girl.â
And then his fingers move again.
You watch him carefully, your breath shaky, your fingers still gripping the hem of your dress like itâs the only thing grounding you.
Matt exhales a quiet chuckle, his other hand still gripping your chin, tilting your face toward him, his thumb brushing softly over your cheek.
âYouâre so tense, angel,â he muses, his fingers skimming the soft, warm skin between your thighs.
Your breath shudders, your entire body on fire, heat pooling low, twisting into something thicker, heavier.
His thumb teases the hem of your dress, dragging the fabric up just slightly- just enough to make you gasp, your body trembling beneath his touch.
He leans in, his breath warm against your ear, his voice low, dripping with amusement.
âAre you shaking, sweetheart?â
You are. And he knows it.
Your thighs twitch, your body helplessly reacting to every slow, torturous movement.
His fingers finally, finally meet the heat between your legs, just barely, the lightest brush-
You suck in a breath, your hands gripping his wrist instinctively, unsure if youâre trying to stop him or pull him closer.
Matt hums, his lips tilting into a smirk.
His fingers press, just the slightest amount of pressure, just enough to make your stomach tighten, your breath hitch, your body betray you.
A soft, mocking laugh.
âYouâre already so wet for me, angel.â
Your face burns, humiliation and something deeper, needier curling in your stomach, spreading everywhere.
Mattâs fingers press more firmly against the heat between your thighs, his touch still light, still teasing, but undeniably there.
His hand is warm, his fingertips tracing slow, lazy circles, barely touching, barely giving you anything- but just enough to make your thighs tremble, your breath shudder against the still air of the church.
His other hand stays firm on your chin, keeping your face tilted toward him, forcing you to feel every shift of his breath against your skin.
His movements are painfully slow, his fingers pressing against the soft skin at the apex of your thighs, feeling the warmth seeping through.
His breath stutters.
His fingers shift.
A slow, testing drag.
His hand moves again, his fingers spreading, cupping, pressing the warmth of his palm flush against you.
His lips brush the curve of your jaw, his voice low, gravelly, wrecked.
âYou make me crazy,â he murmurs, his thumb stroking the inside of your thigh.
His fingers flex, pressing a little harder, feeling the heat there, feeling how much you need him.
His breathing shudders, his chest rising and falling in measured, controlled movements- but his fingers are anything but controlled.
Another slow, torturous drag.
His thumb presses down, tracing a slow circle through the warmth, feeling the way your body reacts to him, melts into him, gives into him.
He chuckles, deep, quiet, mocking.
âYou like this, donât you? Touching you in front of everyone?â
His hand stays, fingers taunting, teasing, his other hand finally leaving your chin, moving to rest on your thigh, spreading you wider.
His mouth hovers just over your ear, his breath heavy, his voice darker now, heavier, raw.
âTell me how much you like it, angel.â
Mattâs fingers never stop moving.
His thumb circles and presses and teases your clit. His other hand holding you firmly in place, keeping your thighs from snapping shut around his wrist.
Your body betrays you, hips tilting forward, chasing the friction, desperate for more.
His lips curl into a smirk, his thumb pressing down just right, rubbing slow, taunting circles against that one spot that makes your thighs tremble.
âYouâre so sensitive, angel,â he murmurs, his voice low, teasing, his breath hot against your skin.
Your breath stutters, your fingers gripping the hem of your dress, your knuckles turning white as you try and hold back sound.
Matt watches you closely, his lips brushing your jaw, his fingers picking up the pace, pressing just a little firmer, a little faster.
Your body tenses, warmth coiling, tightening, a pressure building so quickly it makes your breath catch, shudder.
Matt chuckles, his grip tightening.
âYou gonna cum for me, sweetheart?â he murmurs, his fingers never stopping.
Your thighs shake, your breath hiccups, your body arching slightly, the heat curling tighter, tighter-
Matt leans in, his voice rough, knowing, taunting.
âLet go, angel,â he whispers. âI know you want to.â
He presses down just right.
The pressure snaps.
Your body shatters, warmth crashing over you all at once, waves of heat and pleasure rolling through you, your thighs trembling, shaking, squeezing around his wrist as your breath catches, breaks, shudders.
Matt doesnât move away.
He stays right there, his fingers easing you through it, his breath steady, controlled, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as a satisfied smirk pulls at his mouth.
âThere you go,â he murmurs, his thumb stroking one last slow, teasing circle before finally pulling away.
His fingers slide back to your thigh, squeezing gently.
His lips press a soft, slow kiss against your cheek.
Matt pulls his hand away, his smug smirk growing as he watches your chest rise and fall in uneven bursts.
His eyes drop to your dress.
And his smirk vanishes.
His pupils darken, his jaw tightening as he takes in the mess.
The fabric is damp, sticking slightly to your thighs, the evidence of what he just did to you clear, visible, undeniable.
His fingers twitch, his entire demeanor shifting as something darker, something possessive, flickers behind his gaze.
A deep, low groan. âFuck, angel.â
Your face burns.
Your hands fly to your lap, trying to cover it, trying to hide the humiliating proof of your pleasure, but Matt doesnât let you.
He catches your wrist easily, effortlessly, his grip firm but gentle, his thumb stroking the inside of your wrist.
Your breath stutters.
Your legs press together instinctively, your whole body burning, humiliated, mortified.
âMatt- â you whisper, your voice barely audible, shaky, wrecked.
He hums, pleased, amused.
Then, before you can protest, he guides your hand down, pressing your palm firmly over the thick, hard evidence straining against the denim of his jeans.
Your fingers twitch, feeling the heat, the thickness, the length, the way heâs pulsing under your touch.
Matt groans again, low, raspy, wrecked. âThis is what you do to me, sweetheart.â
His fingers flex over yours, pressing your palm more firmly against him, letting you feel everything.
Your stomach flips violently all over again, your thighs clenching, your fingers trembling.
Matt smirks, tilting his head, watching you unravel.
âMade such a mess of yourself,â he murmurs, his voice mocking, taunting, dripping with amusement. âRight here in church.â
Your face burns hotter, your fingers twitching in his grasp.
Matt leans in, his lips brushing softly against your temple, the contrast between his filthy words and his gentle touch making your stomach turn inside out.
âSuch a dirty, dirty girl,â he whispers, his voice low, thick, knowing. âLetting me touch you like this, letting yourself fall apart for me like that.â
His thumb strokes your wrist, his voice turning softer, more dangerous. âAnd you loved every second of it, didnât you?â
Your lips part, trembling, lost, breathless. Matt just smirks against your skin, kissing your temple again- slower this time, softer.
His fingers squeeze over yours, still pressed against him, still feeling the proof of how much he wants you.
His breath is steady, controlled- but his body isnât. Heâs aching for more. But for now? Heâs going to make sure you feel every second of what just happened.
Your chest tightens, your breath coming in short, shaky bursts as the reality of what just happened hits you all at once.
The mess in your dress, the evidence of everything Matt just did to you, is obvious, the fabric damp and clinging to your thighs, completely undeniable.
You have to stand up soon. Everyone will see.
You swallow hard, your fingers gripping Mattâs sleeve as your eyes sting, your vision blurring slightly.
Matt just watches you, his gaze dark, unreadable, amused.
Then, when he sees the way your lips tremble, the way your wide, doe eyes gloss over, the way a single tear slips down your cheek in quiet humiliation- He smiles.
Not to mock you.
But because heâs in pure disbelief over how innocent you are, how sweet you look even after everything he just did to you.
He exhales softly, shaking his head, still so incredibly turned on.
âOh, sweetheart.â
His voice is softer now, soothing, teasing, but gentle.
He cups your jaw, his thumb wiping away the stray tear, his fingers lingering against your cheek.
âItâs okay,â he murmurs, voice low, warm, steady. âIâll take care of you.â
Before you can say anything, Matt pulls back, slipping off his navy sweater, leaving him in just the button-down underneath.
He hands it to you, the fabric still warm from his body.
âPut this on.â
You hesitate for a second, still trembling, still overwhelmed, before you quickly slip it on, pulling it down over your dress.
It falls past your waist, completely covering the mess.
You exhale shakily, your fingers clutching the sleeves, the heavy fabric smelling like him, calming you just slightly.
Matt watches you closely, his gaze dark and pleased, his lips still twitching with amusement as the sermon finally ends.
He nudges your brother awake, grinning when he grunts and blinks groggily.
âDude, service is over,â Matt says, leaning back, his voice casual, easy, like nothing just happened. Like he didnât just have you crumbling beneath his fingertips only a couple feet away from him.
Your brother stretches, yawns, rubbing his face before standing up, completely unaware of everything.
You hesitate for just a second before following, your legs still weak, wobbly, unsteady.
Matt stays close, his hand hovering near your back, watching you with pure satisfaction as you walk ahead of him.
The moment you climb into the car, settling into the backseat with Matt, your brother turns in the driverâs seat, his eyes narrowing slightly.
ââŠWhy the fuck are you wearing Mattâs sweater?â
Your stomach drops, heat flooding your face. Your fingers tighten around the fabric, pulling it closer as you struggle for an answer.
Matt just leans back in the seat, smirking, completely unbothered. âShe was cold,â he says easily.
Your brother squints, clearly suspicious, but doesnât say anything- until his gaze drops lower.
His brows furrow. His lips part slightly in confusion.
ââŠWhat the hell?â
You freeze. Your entire body locks up. Because heâs looking at your dress. The part of it that isnât fully covered by Mattâs sweater. The part that still has a very visible, very obvious wet spot.
Your face burns red, panic rising in your throat, but before you can react-
Matt laughs, reaching out to shove your head playfully, pushing you against his shoulder in a way that makes it seem like nothing.
âShe spilled water on herself,â he says easily, completely effortless in his lie. âYou know how much of an airhead she can be.â
Then, grinning, he pulls at the edge of the sweater.
âAnd she was freezing.â
Your brother blinks, glancing at you, still confused.
You nod quickly, going along with it.
âY-yeah,â you stammer, forcing a weak smile. âI just- spilled water. Itâs fine.â
Your brother just shrugs, turning back to the wheel.
Matt smirks. And when your brother isnât looking he leans in, his lips brushing your temple, his breath warm against your skin.
âClose one, huh?â he whispers, just for you to hear.
Your stomach flips violently.
Matt just grins.
After getting home, lunch is uneventful. Your brother talks about hockey, your dad chimes in occasionally, and Matt sits across from you, watching.
You canât even look at him.
Every time your eyes flicker to his, his smirk deepens, his knee bumping against yours under the table.
So, the second you finish eating, you excuse yourself, practically rushing up to your room.
You slip out of your dress, peeling away the evidence of what happened in church, and quickly pull on something more casual, more safe- a soft white camisole, paired with tiny sleep shorts, delicate lace tracing the edges, still innocent, still sweet- but dangerous in a whole different way.
You sit on your bed, exhaling slowly, trying to breathe, process, forget-
A loud curse echoes from downstairs.
âFUCK!â
You jump, blinking, listening as your brotherâs voice booms through the house.
âI broke my fucking stick,â he grumbles, his voice frustrated, stressed. âI need it for tomorrow. I meant to grab another at the banquet, but I forgot.â
You hear Mattâs voice next, casual, lazy, so unbothered compared to your brotherâs stress.
âDamn,â Matt mutters.
Your brother groans. âThe only store that sells the right ones is two hours away.â
A beat of silence.
âDude,â your brother huffs. âThat means Iâm gonna be gone for like four hours.â
Matt whistles lowly, like heâs amused.
âBrutal.â
A pause.
âMatt, come with me,â your brother says suddenly.
Matt laughs under his breath. âYeah, Iâd go, man, but Iâve got homework due when we get back.â
âDude,â your brother groans. âCome on.â
âIâm serious,â Matt chuckles, still casual, easy. âI really gotta finish it before tomorrow.â
âFine,â your brother grumbles. âIâll bring my dad. Weâll be back in like four, five hours.â
The front door slams shut.
Silence.
The air shifts.
Something changes.
You sit up slowly, your stomach twisting as you hear footsteps near your door.
You're an 18-year-old high school senior, the innocent little sister of Matt's best friend. Which means off-limits in every way. But 22-year-old college hockey player, Matt can't ignore the way you cling to him, asking dangerous questions with trusting eyes. You don't understand the fire you're playing with- but Matt does. And he's burning to teach you what happens when you get too close.
story warnings: oral (fem reviving), masterbation, lowkey corruption kink (if u squint), brothers best friend, pet names (sweetheart, angel), age gap (four years), etc. all characters are of age. If any of these topics upset you...don't read!
word count: 6k
ib: @ariestrxsh âs young god
You pause in the doorway, your breath catching at his words. Earn it? Your stomach twists. Matt watches you with that lazy, knowing smirk that makes your skin itch.
Your fingers tighten on the doorframe. âHow do I⊠earn it?â
Mattâs smirk deepens. He steps forward, closing the space between you just enough to make your pulse stutter. His hand lifts, fingers brushing your jaw, barely touching but enough to make you feel dizzy.
âYouâll know,â he murmurs, voice low, teasing. âWhen you deserve it, Iâll give it to you.â
Your breath shudders, heat crawling up your spine. You donât even know what youâre asking for but the way heâs looking at you, the way your entire body is reacting, makes you desperate to find out.
You swallow hard, shifting on your feet. âBut-â
Matt just chuckles, shaking his head as he backs away, hands sliding into the pockets of his grey sweatpants. You look down. His arousal is gone now, or at least, hidden well enough that heâs in control again. Unlike you.
âGo to bed, sweetheart.â
His voice is final, dismissive, like heâs already won whatever game you didnât realize you were playing.
You bite your lip, hesitating for just a second longer before turning on shaky legs, stepping out into the hallway and returning to your room.
The next morning you try to act like nothing happened, but the moment you step into the kitchen and see Matt leaning against the counter, coffee in hand, wearing that damn fitted black tank top and grey sweatpants again, you feel your entire body react.
His gaze flicks to you immediately.
He notices the way you freeze.
The way your thighs instinctively press together.
The way your lips part slightly, like youâre remembering exactly what they felt like against his.
He smirks. Like he knows. Like he owns every single thought running through your head.
Your brother, completely oblivious, slaps Matt on the back as he walks past. âDude, you good? You look like you slept like shit.â
Matt huffs a quiet laugh, eyes still locked onto yours and thatâs when you finally notice the deep purple eyebags under his eyes. He always had eyebags, but your brother was right. These looked worse.
âYeah,â he murmurs, taking a slow sip of coffee. âDidnât get much sleep. Mind was elsewhere.â
Your breath catches.
Your brother shrugs, already grabbing cereal from the cabinet. âI told you not to stay up. We gotta commute back to campus tomorrow morning. We only got today to get our sleep schedule back in check.â
Matt exhales through his nose, shaking his head slightly.
âYeah,â he mutters, his smirk growing as he watches you shift on your feet, still burning under his gaze.
You sit at the kitchen table, trying so hard to act normal, to pretend that your body doesnât still burn from last night. But itâs impossible when Matt keeps looking at you like that- like he knows exactly what youâre thinking, exactly what your body still craves.
âWhat the fuck?!â
Your brotherâs sharp voice shatters the illusion, making you flinch. Your eyes snap to him just as heâs stepping closer, his expression twisted in disbelief, his gaze locked onto you.
No- your neck.
Your stomach plummets.
His eyes widen, his jaw tightening as he glares at the unmistakable mark just beneath your jawline. The dark, deep, evidence of everything you were trying to keep secret.
Panic floods you.
âI-â
âWho the fuck did this?â His voice is sharp, angry, his fists clenching at his sides.
You freeze, heart hammering, throat dry. You canât say Matt.
Matt is right there.
Standing beside you, silent. His expression unreadable. Heâs watching you, waiting- not stepping in, not making excuses, just waiting to see what youâll do.
You scramble for something- anything- to say, but before you can, your brother scoffs, his lip curling in disgust.
âYou kidding me right now?â His voice is lower now, sharp with anger. âYou know who gets hickeys?â He takes a step closer, voice cold âSluts.â
Your stomach drops.
Heat rushes to your face- not from embarrassment, but from humiliation. You shake your head quickly, trying to explain, but nothing comes out.
Matt stiffens beside you.
âYo,â his voice is calm but firm, cutting through the tension like a blade. âLay off, dudeâ
Your brother whips his head toward him, eyes blazing. âExcuse me?â
Matt crosses his arms, jaw tight. âSheâs eighteen now, man. She can make her own decisions.â
Your brother laughs, but thereâs no humor in it. âOh, fuck off with that bullshit, Matt. Thatâs still my sister.â His glare snaps back to you. âAnd you? You let some random asshole mark you up like that?â
You flinch, your breath shuddering. âI-â
âYou have no fucking self-respect, do you?â
Your throat tightens, burns. Your hands tremble as you grip the table, heat stinging behind your eyes. You feel exposed, humiliated, like a child being scolded for something you barely even understand.
Mattâs jaw flexes, his fists clenching at his sides. His whole body tenses, like heâs barely keeping himself in check. But he still doesnât step in. Not unless you decide you want him to.
Because this is your secret to tell.
Your brother scoffs again, shaking his head. âFucking pathetic.â
Your chair scrapes loudly against the floor as you shove yourself up, your vision blurring. âFuck you.â Your voice cracks, half anger, half tears, but you donât care.
You turn on your heel and storm out.
You hear Matt curse under his breath, hear your brother mutter something, but you donât stop. You run down the hall, slamming your door shut behind you before collapsing onto your bed, pressing your face into your pillow as hot, embarrassed tears spill down your cheeks.
It was late now. Almost midnight- maybe even one in the morning. Youâve barely moved from your bed since breakfast, too embarrassed, too humiliated to face anyone, especially Matt.
He didnât do anything wrong. He didnât defend you the way you wished, but he also didnât throw you under the bus. He let you decide whether or not to reveal what happened. But still some part of it was just so embarrassing.
The house is quiet, everyone already in bed. You shift under the covers, your oversized t-shirt sliding against your bare skin, your thigh-high socks still hugging your legs, providing some comfort.
The door creaks open.
A dark figure slips inside, moving carefully, deliberately. The door shuts again with a soft click and you hear the lock slide shortly after.
Your heart stammers, your stomach flipping as the shadow moves closer, the dim light from the hallway illuminating just enough of his face.
Matt.
You sit up quickly, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed, your voice a hushed whisper. âMatt?â
âShhh,â he murmurs, his voice low, soothing.
Your pulse races as he steps closerâŠ. closerâŠ. until heâs right in front of you.
He drops to his knees.
Your breath stutters.
Heâs kneeling in front of you, his broad hands and long fingers resting on your thighs, his eyes flickering up to yours, dark and unreadable.
Your lips part, confusion swirling in your chest. âWhat are you-â
âIâm sorry.â
His voice is soft, rough around the edges, like heâs been holding onto the words all day. His hands squeeze your thighs gently, his gaze never leaving yours.
âFor what?â you murmur, genuinely confused.
âFor leaving marks,â he says, his fingers tracing lightly over the sensitive skin of your thighs. âI wasnât thinking.â
You blink, still dazed. âI- I didnât even know they were there.â
Matt exhales sharply, his jaw clenching.
âI donât even really know what hickeys are,â you admit, your voice small, unsure.
His lips part slightly, his brows drawing together like your innocence physically pains him. Then, slowly, he drops his forehead onto your thighs, his warm breath fanning over your skin.
âIâm still sorry,â he murmurs, voice muffled against your legs. âItâs my fault.â
Your stomach flutters, your fingers twitching at your sides. You should probably be upset. But all you can focus on is the weight of his head resting against your thighs, the way his hands grip you so gently, as if heâs afraid to hold you too tight.
âIt⊠didnât hurt or anything,â you murmur.
Matt huffs a quiet laugh against your skin, his breath hot against your bare legs. âThatâs not the point, angel.â
Thereâs a pause, heavy, thick with something you donât understand.
âWhat did it feel like?â
Your fingers twitch where they rest against the sheets, your legs pressing together slightly on instinct. You werenât expecting that question.
âIâŠ. I donât know,â you stammer, heat creeping up your neck.
Matt lifts his head slightly, his dark eyes flickering up to yours, waiting. âYes, you do,â he murmurs.
You exhale shakily, your entire body buzzing. You hesitate, then admit, âIt⊠felt like it did yesterday.â
Mattâs gaze sharpens. His fingers flex against your thighs, his grip tightening just slightly. âAnd what was that?â
Your lips part, but the words wonât come. Youâre too flustered, too hot, your thighs squeezing together again as the memory of last night floods your mind.
Matt just watches you.
âWarm,â you whisper, barely audible. âAnd⊠and needy.â
His jaw clenches, his fingers sliding higher.
âWhere?â
You suck in a breath, unable to say it, so instead, you let your gaze flicker downward. Down to where his hands are still crawling up your thighs, where the warmth is building again, pulsing, aching.
Matt follows your gaze, and when he looks back up at you, his expression changes.
He moves slowly and lowers his head, his breath warm as his lips graze the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. Your fingers dig into the sheets, your stomach flipping, your entire body locking up as he keeps going.
Lower.
Lower.
Until his nose brushes the soft crevice between your thighs, his face pressing directly against the heat radiating from your core.
Your breath shatters.
Matt doesnât move.
Doesnât speak.
Just stays there.
Breathing you in.
Letting you feel it.
Your entire body tenses, frozen in place, your breath coming in short, uneven gasps. His hands tighten on your thighs, keeping you right where he wants you.
He does nothing. Just lets the weight of his presence sink into you. Like heâs claiming you. Without even touching you.
Matt stays still for a moment, just breathing against you, the warmth of his face pressing into the heat radiating from your core. His grip on your thighs tightens, and then slowly he nuzzles his head deeper, his nose pressing against the soft, sensitive space between your legs.
A soft, strained groan rumbles from his chest, vibrating against your skin.
Your entire body jolts, a sharp gasp ripping from your lips as your back arches involuntarily, your fingers gripping the sheets for something to ground you.
âMattâŠâ your voice comes out breathy, shaking. âWhy are you⊠putting your head⊠there?â
He doesnât answer.
Not at first.
He just stays there, pressed against you, breathing you in like he needs it, like the heat between your thighs is suffocating him but he still wants more.
Slowly, he lifts his head.
His pupils are blown, dark and hungry, his cheeks flushed, lips parted slightly as his gaze locks onto yours. His breath is heavy, his chest rising and falling like heâs trying to control himself but he canât.
His voice is thick, strained.
âBecause it doesnât just make me feel warm and needy.â His grip on you tightens, his jaw clenching. âNo⊠it makes me feel even better than on fire.â
Your lips part, your stomach twisting. âEven better than on fire?â
Matt exhales sharply, his eyes flickering down, back to where his face had just been.
Then without hesitation he drops his head again, his nose pressing into you even firmer this time. His arms slide around you, wrapping around your lower back, his hands gripping your thighs, pulling you closer against his face like he needs to feel you.
You let out a small, shaky whimper as your body jerks forward, pressing even more against him.
Matt groans again, his fingers digging into your skin, his breath hot against you.
âYes,â he rasps, voice muffled against your thighs. âEven better than on fire.â
Matt stays pressed against you, his warm breath fanning over the sensitive heat between your thighs. His grip tightens on your hips, his fingers pressing into the soft flesh as he pulls you impossibly closer.
And then he pushes his nose deeper.
A sharp, unexpected shock runs through you as he nudges against something sensitive, something that makes your entire body jerk. A moan slips past your lips before you can stop it- a high, breathy, and completely foreign to your own ears. Just like the sound yesterday but even worse.
Your eyes widen immediately, a gasp catching in your throat as you slap a hand over your mouth. Your body tenses, heat flooding every inch of your skin.
âMatty-â your voice is shaky, breathless. âWhat was that?â
Matt stays still, his nose still buried between your thighs, his breath slow and deliberate as he exhales against the damp fabric of your underwear. When he finally pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, his expression is unreadable.
âWhat?â he murmurs, his voice low, teasing.
Before you can respond, he does it again.
Another press of his nose, deliberate and slow, right against that same spot.
Your entire body twitches. Your back arches slightly, another sound escaping your throat, softer this time- more desperate.
âThat,â you gasp, your fingers clutching at the sheets beneath you, your head tilting back slightly. âThat feels reallyâŠâ
You trail off, your face burning, your breathing uneven as you struggle to even form the words.
Matt watches you carefully, his lips parting slightly, his jaw tight as he exhales through his nose. Then, he leans in again, pressing another slow, intentional nudge against that same spot.
âThatâs a spot on girls,â he murmurs against you, his breath hot through the fabric. âIt helps you feel really, really good.â His thumbs rub soothing circles into your hips. âDo you feel good when I do that?â
You whimper, the sound soft and helpless as your hands instinctively fly to his hair, your fingers gripping the strands without thinking. Your thighs tremble slightly around his head as another rush of warmth pools deep in your stomach.
A shaky breath leaves your lips as you barely manage to whisper-
ââŠYes.â
Matt watches you carefully, his breathing slow and controlled despite the tension crackling between you like fire. His hands, still gripping your thighs, slowly slide up, slipping beneath the oversized t-shirt hanging loosely over your frame. His palms are warm against your bare skin, fingertips tracing soft, teasing patterns as he pushes the fabric up, exposing more of you to him.
âYou want me to keep goinâ, angel?â His voice is low, rough, thick with something dangerous.
You donât trust your voice, so you just nod.
Without thinking you press your fingers deeper into his hair, giving the slightest push, an unconscious plea.
His pupils darken instantly, his lips parting as a low groan escapes him. But itâs not just that. Itâs the way your thighs instinctively spread wider, granting him more access without even realizing it.
âFuck,â Matt breathes, his grip tightening on your hips for a moment before he leans back in.
The first press of his nose is slow, testing, just like before.
And then- he flicks it.
A sharp, teasing nudge directly against that sensitive spot.
Your entire body jerks, a gasp breaking from your lips, your thighs twitching around his head. But Matt doesnât stop. No, he keeps doing it. Slow at first as always, up and down, teasing motions that make your breath stutter and your grip in his hair tighten.
Then he groans. Low, deep, and vibrating against you.
The sensation sends another shockwave through your body, and a soft, helpless moan slips past your lips.
âYeah?â Matt murmurs against you, his voice thick with need. âThat feel good, sweetheart?â
You canât even respond properly. Just a breathless, desperate whimper as your hips shift slightly, pressing closer.
Matt smirks against you before dragging his nose up, then back down, rubbing slow, torturous circles against you before flicking against that sensitive spot again.
A choked moan rips from your throat, your body reacting before your mind can catch up, your thighs trembling around him.
âFuck, angel,â Matt groans again, his voice gravelly and wrecked, like heâs barely holding himself together. âYou sound so fuckinâ sweet.â
He presses harder, a slow, teasing drag, and your body shakes, another desperate whimper slipping free.
Your head tilts back, fingers gripping his hair tightly, your chest rising and falling in uneven breaths.
Matt lets out another ragged groan, his hands gripping your thighs firmly as he keeps going, his voice muffled but still deliberate-
âLet me hear you, sweetheart.â
And when he flicks his nose just right again, you do.
Matt groans against you, the vibrations sending another sharp wave of pleasure through your body. His hands grip your thighs tighter, his fingers flexing like heâs desperate to hold you in place.
You are a mess.
Your breath is ragged, your legs trembling as he keeps going, dragging his nose in slow, deliberate motions against that sensitive spot. Every flick, every press, every little nuzzle makes your thighs twitch, makes another helpless moan spill from your lips.
Matt loves it.
You can feel how much he loves it. The way his grip tightens, the way his breathing turns heavier, the way his groans slip out with every little movement.
âFuck,â he mutters against you, voice wrecked. âYouâre shaking.â
You are. Your thighs are trembling under his touch, your hands fisted tightly in his hair, your entire body burning.
âFeels so- mhphh- feel so good,â you gasp, barely able to speak through the overwhelming sensation.
Matt groans at that, his grip on you tightening.
âYou like that, yeah?â he murmurs, flicking his nose against you again, making you arch. âLike me making you feel good?â
You can only nod, breathless, your fingers tugging at his hair as another moan slips from your lips.
Matt smirks against you before dragging his nose up again, then back down, teasing you, working you up so slowly you feel like youâre going to lose your mind.
âMatty,â you whimper, voice shaking.
He hums in response, the deep sound sending another shudder through your body.
âYou sound so fuckinâ sweet, angel,â he groans. âSo perfect.â
And then he does it again. A slow, firm press, his nose nudging against you just right, and your entire body jerks, another sharp, desperate moan breaking from your throat.
Matt can feel it- the way your body is trembling under his touch, the way your fingers are gripping his hair tightly, like you need something to anchor you through the overwhelming sensations rolling through you.
His lips part against your nearly soaked through panties, his breath hot and ragged as he presses in deeper, his nose dragging slow, deliberate movements that make you whimper, make your back arch off the bed.
âOh my- Matt,â you gasp, voice breathless and shaking.
He groans, his grip on your thighs tightening. âThatâs it, angel,â he mutters against you, the vibration sending another wave of pleasure through your core. âLet me hear you.â
You barely register what youâre doing. Your body acts before your brain can catch up. Your thighs spread more, giving him better access, and he takes full advantage.
His movements become more focused, more precise, flicking his nose against that exact spot over and over again, pressing firmer, dragging the tip up and down before pushing in harder.
Your breath shatters, a high-pitched whimper slipping from your lips.
âOh-â
Matt groans deeply, his voice thick with need. âFuck, sweetheart,â he rasps. âYouâre shaking so much.â
You really are, too. Your legs trembling around his head, your stomach clenching with each movement he makes.
âFeelsâŠâ You gasp sharply as another flick sends you spiraling, your hands tightening in his hair. âFeels so-â
Matt hums again, the deep vibration sparking another moan from you.
âI know, angel,â he breathes, dragging his nose in slow, torturous strokes against you. âI know. Just let go.â
Your entire body tenses, heat pooling low in your stomach, coiling tighter, tighter. The pressure is overwhelming, so much more than anything youâve ever felt, building and building until-
A sharp flick. A firm press.
You break.
A soft, desperate cry escapes you as your entire body shatters, waves of pleasure crashing over you, your thighs clamping around his head as you tremble, gasping for air.
Matt groans as he feels you come undone beneath him, his grip firm, his voice wrecked as he murmurs, âThatâs it, angel. Let me feel you.â
Your hands tighten in his hair, your body writhing beneath him as he keeps going, drawing it out, letting you ride the high until youâre left breathless, limp against the bed, completely spent.
He finally pulls back, his breath heavy, his lips parted as he looks up at you with pure hunger.
He watches you, his breath still ragged, his pupils dark and hungry as he takes in the sight of you. Of your body trembling, your chest rising and falling in uneven breaths, your thighs still twitching from the overwhelming sensation coursing through you.
Without a word, he leans back in.
Your breath catches as he licks a slow, deliberate stripe up the soaking wet fabric of your underwear, the heat of his tongue pressing firmly against the sensitive spot he had just been teasing mercilessly with his nose.
Your whole body jolts, a small whimper slipping from your lips as he finally pulls away.
Matt exhales heavily, his breath warm against your skin as he lifts his head, resting his cheek against your thigh, his hands still gripping them firmly, keeping you open.
And then he looks up at you, his expression something almost possessive flickering behind his gaze.
âYou know how you asked me what cumming was?â he murmurs, his voice low, deep, dangerous.
Your breath stutters, your stomach flipping violently as you suddenly feel it- the way your body is still pulsing, the wetness between your thighs making everything too real.
Your face burns.
You inhale sharply, trying to press your legs closed out of instinct, out of sheer embarrassment, but Mattâs hands immediately tighten around your thighs, keeping them spread.
You let out a small, flustered whimper, your body still oversensitive, still buzzing, and Mattâs lips twitch into a knowing smirk as he trails a single finger along the wet fabric, pressing just lightly, just enough to make your breath hitch.
His voice drops, his tone laced with something smug, something possessive.
âThat was cumming.â
Your chest rises and falls as your body continues to hum with the aftershocks of what just happened.
You swallow hard, blinking down at Matt, whoâs still resting his cheek against your thigh, watching you with an intensity that makes your stomach flip.
You shift slightly, trying to process everything, your fingers gripping the sheets beneath you as your mind struggles to catch up. âOh,â you whisper, your voice soft, dazed. âThat was the⊠release you were talking about.â
Matt exhales sharply, his lips twitching into a smirk. âYeah,â he murmurs, his voice still thick with desire. âThat was the release.â
Your body shudders again as you feel it- another slow, warm trickle of something leaking through your already soaking underwear, your thighs twitching at the sensation. You shift slightly, uncomfortable, still feeling so sensitive.
Matt notices.
His eyes darken as he watches the way you move, his grip tightening on your thighs. He pulls them further apart, just slightly, just enough to get a better view of your cum leaking through your underwear.
Your breath catches, your face burning, and you stutter, your voice barely above a whisper. âW-was that what you meant when you said you were going to be inside me?â
The instant the words leave your lips, Mattâs entire body tenses.
His fingers dig into your thighs, his jaw clenching as his head drops for a moment, his chest rising and falling in slow, controlled breaths like heâs trying to keep himself in check.
You blink down at him, confused by his reaction, watching as he visibly composes himself before finally lifting his head again.
His pupils are blown, his cheeks flushed, but when he meets your gaze, he manages a smirk, shaking his head slightly.
âNo, sweetheart,â he murmurs, his voice rough, strained. âNot quite.â
You pout, shifting slightly again, still feeling the lingering ache between your legs. âI havenât earned it yet?â
Matt huffs a quiet laugh, his smirk deepening as he tilts his head, dragging his thumbs slowly up your inner thighs, his gaze locked onto yours.
âNot yet,â he murmurs, his voice dripping with promise as he stands up and kisses your forehead. âGo to sleep.â
You simply nod, closing your eyes and flopping back on the bed, eyes already fluttering shut.
Matt watches you turn over and then walks toward your door.
The moment your door clicks shut, Matt exhales sharply, pressing his forehead against the wood and gripping the door handle hard. His knuckles turn white from the pressure, his breathing still ragged, still uneven. His entire body is tight- burning, aching, straining against the very last threads of his self-control.
Jesus Christ.
He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to steady himself, but itâs fucking impossible. Not after what just happened. Not after you looked at him like that, asked him those questions with your wide, innocent eyes, spread your legs for him like it was natural, like you trusted him with your body in a way that made him feel both honored and fucking ruined.
And then your sweet oblivious little mouth just had to ask if that was what he meant when he said heâd be inside you.
Matt groans under his breath, his jaw clenching so tight it aches. He can still see you, still feel the heat of you against his face, the way you twitched, gasped, moaned for him. His name had slipped from your lips like a prayer, and fuck- he had almost lost himself right then and there.
He had barely. Barely. Held himself together.
But now?
Now, heâs alone.
Now, thereâs nothing stopping him.
His hands shake as he shoves down the waistband of his sweatpants, the thick pressure of his arousal almost painful at this point. His cock is aching, flushed and leaking, proof of just how much you had affected him- proof of just how fucking desperate he is for you.
A harsh breath leaves his lips as he wraps a fist around himself, finally getting the friction he needs. His head tilts back slightly, his other hand pressed flat against the wooden door as he strokes himself, letting his mind wander exactly where it wants to go.
You.
Your flushed face, your swollen lips, the way your breath had stuttered every time he pressed against your clit, how you had gasped when you came, how your fingers had tangled in his hair, tugging, holding him there like you never wanted him to leave.
Fuck.
Matt squeezes his eyes shut, his jaw tightening as he picks up the pace, his breath turning uneven, ragged. His hips jerk into his fist, and his mind spirals further- what if he hadnât stopped? What if he had really shown you what it meant to have him inside you? What if he had been buried between your thighs, licking into you, tasting you properly, making you come again, and again, and again, until you were crying his name, begging for more-
His breath shudders, his stomach tightening, his grip firm as he chases it. He was so fucking close, so wound up, his body on fire, his thighs tensing as a low, guttural groan rumbles from his chest.
It crashes into him fast, hard- his release ripping through him in sharp, pulsing waves as he cups his tip with his other hand, catching the release in his palm so he doesnât cum on the floor. His hand slows, his chest rising and falling in deep, heavy breaths, his entire body thrumming from the intensity of it.
For a moment, he just stands there, his palm still wrapped around himself, hand full of his cum, and his head tilted backward.
He quickly rushes himself to the bathroom, and clean up. it isnât until he washes his hands in the sink that the thought briefly crosses his mind. He drags a hand down his face. What if your brother had walked out? Or worse, your father?
But Matt wasnât truly thinking about that. Not at all.
He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair, his body still buzzing from the release and somehow still aching for more.
It shouldâve been enough. Shouldâve. But it wasnât.
Not even close.
Because the second he dries his hands and leans against the counter, gripping the cool edge with both hands, his mind betrays him, replaying every single fucking second of what had just happened all over again.
The way you looked at him. The way you gasped when he touched you. The way your voice had trembled when you whispered his name, all breathless and needy, like you needed him, like you had never felt anything like that before.
His jaw clenches, his fingers flexing against the counter, his body already stirring back to life, heat curling low in his stomach again.
He groans under his breath, shoving a hand through his hair. His body is still so wired, still so fucking hard, and he knows thereâs only one way to fix it.
He turns the faucet on, letting the water run as he braces himself over the sink, staring at his own reflection. His pupils are blown, his skin still flushed, his chest rising and falling too fast.
He can still smell you on his face.
His grip tightens on the edge of the sink, his breath coming out in a slow, shaky exhale.
Then, without hesitation, he shoves his sweatpants down again, his cock already achingly hard once more.
He barely has time to wrap a fist around himself before his hips jerk into his palm, the sensation making him groan low in his throat.
His hand moves so very slow. He was teasing, taunting, and dragging the pleasure out in long, torturous strokes, just like he had done to you.
Fuck, angel, his mind taunts, replaying his own words against his skull. You sound so fuckinâ sweet.
His breathing shudders, his grip tightening. A deep groan rips from his throat, his strokes faster now, his hips chasing the sensation.
But itâs not enough.
He needs more.
He needs to see you again.
His jaw clenches as he yanks his phone off the counter, flicking the camera on and angling it towards the mirror. His pupils are blown, his chest flushed, his cock thick and leaking, his hand wrapped tight around himself.
He groans again, dropping his own dick to grab his shirt, pulling it between his teeth before returning to the throbbing member, pumping it a few times before snapping a few pictures.
After talking that he tilts the phone downward, recording for a few seconds as he slowly strokes himself, watching the way his abs tense as he fucks into his own hand.
He imagines sending it to you as he puts the phone facedown back on the counter.
Imagines your innocent little gasp when you see it.
Imagines your wide, curious eyes as you whisper, Matty, why does it look like that?
Imagines himself teaching you.
A ragged moan tears from his throat, his body tensing, his stomach tightening as the heat coils in his spine, building- building- building-
Until he shatters again.
His breath stutters, his hand slowing, his body pulsing, his release spilling over his fingers in thick, hot waves.
His jaw drops, his head tilting back, his chest heaving as he rides it out, so fucking spent that his knees nearly buckle.
He stands there for a moment, panting, gripping the counter, waiting for his body to stop shaking.
He barely has time to catch his breath before the need creeps back in for the third time. He was so sensitive and so overstimulated that he didnât think it was even possible to be still hard. But here he was. His muscles were still tense, his skin overheated, his body thrumming with the aftershocks of release.
His cock is still hard, twitching against his abdomen, a constant, aching reminder of what he just did- and what he still wants.
He exhales sharply, running a hand through his damp hair, his jaw clenching as his fingers flex against the counter. The mirror reflects the mess heâs become- flushed cheeks, sweat-slicked skin, pupils blown so wide that his irises are barely visible.
He knows what heâs about to do is reckless.
He knows he shouldnât.
But that innocent little pout you gave him earlier? The way you whispered, I havenât earned it yet? The way you looked at him with those wide eyes as if you had no clue what you were actually asking for?
Fuck.
His phone is still face down on the counter.
He grabs it.
His other hand is already sliding down, already pushing his waistband down. He tilts the phone in one hand, aiming it downward as he presses record.
His fingertips skim down his stomach, dragging over his tightened abs, the muscles twitching under his touch. He hisses softly, teasing himself, delaying the inevitable as he traces the sharp lines of his obliques, feeling the tension coil again, deeper, tighter.
His cock jumps, aching for attention, the head still slick and sensitive from his last orgasm. But he doesnât grip himself yet- not yet.
Instead, he lets his fingers tease, barely brushing the flushed tip, smearing the remnants of his cum across his skin, feeling the hot, sticky slickness coat his fingertips.
A low groan vibrates from his chest as he swirls his thumb over the head, his body jerking at the overstimulation.
âFuck-â
The sound echoes in the bathroom, rough and needy.
He sets the phone down on the counter, leaning against the wall so his face is now in frame too, his breath coming out uneven as his fingers finally wrap around himself again.
The first stroke is a torturous drag from base to tip. His grip was firm but not tight, just enough to make his hips stutter forward, chasing the friction.
His breath shudders, his stomach tightening as he squeezes just a little harder, dragging his fist back down.
He rolls his hips into his hand, setting a rhythm. Slow but deep, each stroke sending a sharp pulse of pleasure up his spine.
He starts to buck his hips up, his thumb circling the leaking tip before dragging back down along the vein running the underside of his shaft.
His pace picks up, his grip tighter now, his strokes longer, firmer, his abs flexing with every sharp movement.
A growl rumbles in his throat as he tilts his head back, his jaw going slack as his pleasure builds, stronger, heavier, deeper.
His thighs tense as he pumps his fist faster, his breath coming out in harsh, ragged pants, sweat beading at his temple as his body coils tight, tight, tight-
The tension is blistering, a sharp, almost painful heat curling at the base of his spine, twisting through his muscles, spreading everywhere.
His chest heaves, his entire body locking up as his strokes turn sloppy, desperate, chasing the sharp edge of release thatâs so fucking close-
âFuck, Y/N-â
The moment your name falls from his lips, his body shatters.
A deep moan tears from his throat as pleasure crashes through him hard, blinding and nearly unbearable.
Thick ropes of release spill over his fist again, streaking hot across his stomach, dripping onto his abs as his body shakes, his thighs genuinely trembling with the aftershocks.
His strokes slow, his breath stuttering, his muscles clenching and unclenching drastically as he rides it out, his head dropping forward, sweat dampening his hair.
For a few moments, the only sound in the bathroom is his ragged breathing, the soft hum of the ventilation fan, the faint creak of the counter as he braces against it.
His hand is still wrapped around himself, sticky and hot.
His phone screen flickers.
And thatâs when he realizes-
The video was still recording.
The entire thing.
The sharp, filthy sounds of his pleasure, the way he groaned your name, the way his body unraveled for you.
And before he can think, before he can talk himself out of it, his finger hovers over send.
And then he presses it.
a/n: yall wanted a part 2 so bad so here you gođ§Ąđ§Ą lmk if u want a part 3
PART THREE OUT NOW
MASTERLIST
for @mattsobvimyfav
tags: @ilovejohnnieguilbertsblog @mattsturnii @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @watercolorskyy @strangecatpeach @katie1002 @1ovesiick @slut4christopherr @mattgirl4eva @mayalovesturn @chriss-slutt @sturniolohohoho @courta13 @izzylovesmatt @matthewsturnsgf @aaa-mi @bigbeefybitch @hopelesslydevotedsstuff @wastelandzella @yourmother29 @whore4-chrissturniolo @idefinitelyhateu @madisonnxtdoor22 (if u wanna be on the taglist, just comment)
Youâre an 18-year-old high school senior, the innocent little sister of Mattâs best friend. Which means off-limits in every way. But 22-year-old college hockey player, Matt canât ignore the way you cling to him, asking dangerous questions with trusting eyes. You donât understand the fire youâre playing with- but Matt does. And heâs burning to teach you what happens when you get too close.
story warnings: heavy make out, lowkey corruption kink (if u squint), brothers best friend, pet names (sweetheart, angel), age gap (four years), etc. all characters are of age. If any of these topics upset you...don't read!
word count: 7k
a/n: i didnât go into this with the intention of creating a similar story but as i read it over Iâm realizing itâs very similar to an @ariestrxsh fic with the same trope. click here to read the first chapter of that! itâs very good and I recommend strongly!
You stand in front of the hallway mirror, tugging at the hem of your navy-blue dress, smoothing the fabric with your palms. The dress fits snugly, a little more mature than what youâre used to, but tonight isnât just any night. Itâs the sports award banquet. Your brother and Mattâs banquet. And your dad only let you tag along under the condition that you âstay out of trouble.â
But it wasnât exactly you who he was worried about.
A sharp knock echoes from the front door.
âGet the fuckinâ door!â your brother shouts from upstairs.
âOkay, okay!â You huff, your heels clicking against the hardwood floor as you rush to answer.
When you unlock it, the bitter January air bites at your exposed skin, sending a chill down your spine. Matt stands in the doorway, hand raised mid-knock, his dark brows lifting when he takes you in.
His smirk is slight but enough to notice. âWell, donât you look all grown up,â he muses, voice low and teasing. Then, without warning, he reaches out and ruffles the top of your freshly styled hair.
You scrunch your nose but let him, even though you just spent the better part of an hour curling it.
âJesus, Matt,â you huff, stepping aside so he can come in. The cold air follows him as he shrugs off his coat, revealing a navy-blue suit, just a shade darker than your dress. You swallow, watching through the mirror as he tugs at his tie.
âYou coming with us?â His voice is lighter now, curious but knowing.
âYep! Daddy said I could tag along if I behave.â You smile, turning back to your reflection, smoothing your hair again.
Matt exhales a quiet chuckle, stepping closer behind you, his presence warm despite the winter air still clinging to him. You watch as he adjusts his tie in the mirror, his fingers long and practiced.
âYou gonna behave then, sweetheart?â His eyes flick to yours in the reflection, amusement flickering behind them.
You nod, standing up straighter, suddenly aware of the way he towers over you. Itâs always been like this. Him looking down at you, you looking up. The age gap was something your brother had always made a big deal about. âToo old for you.â âOff limits.â
But Matt never seemed to care about that.
Your breath catches when his hand moves again, messing up your hair on purpose this time.
âMatt!â you whine, swatting his arm as you twist away. âI just fixed that.â
He grins, tongue running along his front teeth as he watches you pout. âRelax, kid, you still look pretty.â
Your stomach flips at that.
Before you can say anything, your brotherâs voice rings out from upstairs. âMatty B! Get your ass up here!â
Matt sighs dramatically, shooting you one last glance before jogging up the stairs. You watch him go, your fingers tightening slightly around the fabric of your dress.
The banquet hall is grand, chandeliers casting a warm glow over round tables covered in crisp white linen. The clinking of glasses and laughter fills the air as athletes and their families mingle, celebrating another season of victories. You follow closely behind your brother and Matt, your heels clicking on the marble floor as you take in the scene with wide eyes.
Your brother spots your dad near the head table and heads off with a wave. âDonât get into trouble,â he mutters over his shoulder.
âI never do,â you chirp back, but heâs already gone.
Matt stays beside you, his hand hovering at your lower back in a way that feels protective, almost possessive, but he never actually touches you.
âYou stick with me, sweetheart,â he murmurs, eyes scanning the room. âDonât need you getting eaten alive in here.â
You blink up at him, confused. âWhat do you mean?â
But before he can answer, a familiar voice interrupts.
âDamn, Y/N.â
You turn to see Jackson, one of your brotherâs teammates, grinning at you like heâs just won something. âDidnât know you cleaned up this nice.â
Matt stiffens beside you, but you donât notice, too busy beaming at the compliment. âThank you, Jackson! You look nice too.â
Jackson smirks, stepping closer. âYou should let me take you out sometime. We could grab dinner, maybe see a movie, head back to my place?â
Before you can answer, Matt shifts slightly, his broad frame stepping just enough into the space between you and Jackson to make it clear. âSheâs not interested,â he says casually, though thereâs an unmistakable edge to his voice.
Jacksonâs smirk falters. âShe can answer for herself, canât she?â
You glance between them, feeling a little lost. âI mean⊠I do like movies.â
Matt exhales sharply, running a hand down his face before placing it firmly on your lower back, actually touching you this time. âCâmon, angel. Letâs find our table.â His grip is gentle but insistent, steering you away before Jackson can say anything else.
As you walk away, you glance up at him. âThat was kinda rude.â
Matt scoffs. âNo, sweetheart. That was necessary.â
You frown but donât push it, too distracted by the sight of the massive dessert table at the far end of the room. âOoh! Can we get something sweet?â
His jaw clenches, but he nods. âYeah, sure.â
Before you even make it halfway there, another one of your brotherâs teammates- Tyler- sidles up beside you, grinning.
âHey, Y/N,â he drawls, eyes trailing over your dress in a way that makes Mattâs fingers twitch against your back. âDidnât think Iâd see you here tonight.â
âMy daddy let me come,â you say cheerfully. âItâs so fun! I didnât know itâd be this fancy.â
Tyler smirks. âYour daddy, huh? You look real good all dressed up. Bet youâve got guys falling all over you tonight.â
You blink. âHuh? Oh no, I just came with Matt and my brother.â
Matt sighs, long and slow. âYeah, and sheâs leaving with us too. Right, sweetheart?â
You nod, completely missing the way Matt glares daggers at Tyler. âYep! Daddy said I had to go home when they do.â
Tyler chuckles, shaking his head. âThatâs a shame. If you ever wanna have a little fun after curfew, you know who to call.â
You tilt your head. âFun? Like⊠Games orâŠ?â
Tyler lets out a loud laugh, but before he can respond, Matt steps in front of you completely, his voice dropping dangerously low. âWalk away, Tyler.â
Tyler holds his hands up in mock surrender, still grinning. âRelax, man. Just messing around.â
Matt doesnât budge. Doesnât smile. Doesnât blink.
Tylerâs grin fades slightly before he turns and disappears back into the crowd.
You tug on Mattâs sleeve, pouting. âWhy are you being so mean tonight?â
Matt exhales through his nose, looking down at you with something unreadable in his expression. âIâm not being mean, angel. Just looking out for you.â
You huff but let it go when you finally reach the dessert table, distracted by a chocolate fountain. âOh my gosh! Look at this!â
Matt watches as you grab a skewer and dip a marshmallow into the melted chocolate, completely oblivious to the attention youâre getting from half the room.
His jaw tenses as he glances around, making sure no one else even thinks about coming near you.
Your brother would kill him if he knew how he was feeling right now. But as you happily hum while licking melted chocolate from your fingers, utterly unaware of the way his entire body is locked up with restraint- Matt knows heâs in trouble.
Big, big trouble.
The banquet is in full swing as the night goes on, the energy in the room buzzing with excitement as awards are handed out. Your brother wins MVP, grinning as he walks up to accept his plaque, you and the rest of the crowd erupting in applause. Matt wins Best Defensive Player, and when his name is called, you clap so enthusiastically that he shoots you a look- amused but slightly exasperated.
âCalm down, angel,â he murmurs as he sits back down, placing his award on the table.
âIâm proud of you,â you say, grinning.
Matt shakes his head, but thereâs a softness in his eyes as he nudges your knee under the table.
Throughout dinner, glasses of champagne are passed around, and even though Matt gives you a warning look, you take one anyway.
âItâs just one,â you assure him, lifting the flute to your lips.
âThatâs not just one,â he mutters as you reach for another a little while later.
But you donât listen. The bubbles tickle your throat, making you giggle, and before long, thereâs a slight warmth settling over you, your limbs loosening, the room feeling lighter, happier.
Matt groans when you sip your third glass. âJesus Christ, sweetheart.â
Your brother, too busy celebrating with his teammates, doesnât even notice.
Matt does, though. Matt always notices.
By the time the banquet winds down, youâre giggling at everything, eyes bright as your dad rounds everyone up to leave.
The ride home is quiet, the hum of the car filling the space. Your dad drives, your brother is on your left, and Matt is on your right. Somehow, youâve ended up in the middle seat, legs tucked under you, your body loose and relaxed from the champagne.
You lean against Mattâs shoulder, sighing dramatically. âMâso sleepy.â
Matt stiffens, his whole body going rigid.
âYou shouldnât have had all that champagne,â he murmurs, voice low, almost strained.
You ignore him, nuzzling into his arm like itâs the most natural thing in the world. âBut it tasted so good.â
Your brother snorts. âYouâre such a lightweight.â
You pout, shifting slightly, pressing even closer to Matt. You donât realize what youâre doing, the way your fingers absentmindedly trace patterns on his forearm, the way your cheek presses against the fabric of his jacket, how warm he is.
Matt notices.
His jaw is clenched so tight it aches. He keeps his hands firmly planted on his thighs, muscles tense as he stares straight ahead. Youâre touching him like itâs nothing, like it doesnât mean anything. But to him?
It means everything.
Your fingers graze his wrist, and he exhales through his nose, shifting slightly in his seat, trying to put some distance between you. But you just follow, draping an arm over his bicep, your cheek now resting against his shoulder.
âYou smell so nice,â you sigh, voice hazy, drunk and sweet.
Matt swears under his breath.
Your brother doesnât notice. Heâs too busy scrolling through his phone, occasionally grumbling about some play he shouldâve gotten more credit for.
But Matt? Heâs suffering.
Because youâre all soft touches and sleepy sighs, completely unaware of the fact that every innocent little move you make is driving him insane.
You shift again, snuggling impossibly closer. âYouâre so comfy, Matty.â
Matt groans so quietly only you hear it. âJesus.â
You blink up at him, bleary-eyed. âHmm?â
âNothing.â His voice is tight.
You smile, resting your head against his shoulder again, your fingers still tracing those mindless little patterns on his arm. âYouâre so nice to me.â
Matt closes his eyes briefly, inhaling sharply through his nose.
If only you knew.
When you get home, the house is quiet, the air thick with the lingering chill of the winter night. Your dad mutters something about heading to bed, your brother and Matt trudging up the stairs after him.
You follow, still tipsy, still warm from the champagne, your limbs loose and slow as you move.
Matt is staying over, just like he always does after big game nights or events. He and your brother disappear into his room while you shuffle to yours, sighing as you peel off your dress, trading it for an oversized t-shirt- one that falls mid-thigh, barely covering your underwear. You tug on a pair of thigh-high socks, cozying up against the cold air before slipping on your blue light glasses, needing something to steady your still-spinning vision.
You head to the bathroom, flipping on the light, humming softly as you brush your teeth.
The door creaks open, and Matt steps in, rubbing his face tiredly before freezing in place when he sees you.
His eyes sweep over you, taking in your messy hair, the oversized tee hanging off your frame, the way your socks cling to your thighs. His jaw ticks, but he says nothing, just clears his throat before stepping toward the sink.
âDidnât know you were in here,â he murmurs, voice rough with exhaustion- or maybe something else.
You shrug, toothpaste foaming at the corners of your mouth. âSâokay. I donât mind.â
Matt huffs a quiet laugh, turning on the faucet to wash his hands. âYou should be in bed, angel.â
You lean against the counter, tilting your head. âMatt?â
He grabs a towel, drying his hands before meeting your gaze in the mirror. âYeah?â
You blink at him, expression slightly dazed. âWhy were all those guys acting weird tonight?â
He stiffens slightly. âWeird how?â
You frown, thinking. âLike⊠they kept talking to me. Saying things that didnât make sense.â You pause, then look up at him, brows furrowed. âWhat did they want?â
Matt exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. âThey were flirting with you, sweetheart. They thought you were pretty.â
Your nose scrunches. âOh.â You tilt your head. âBut you flirt with me too, right?â
His fingers flex against the counter. âNot like they do.â
You narrow your eyes. âYou think Iâm pretty too, right?â
Matt lets out a slow breath, gripping the edge of the sink. âYeah, angel,â he murmurs, his voice strained. âI do.â
You blink, processing. âThen why does it matter?â
Matt turns, leaning back against the counter, arms crossing over his broad chest. His gaze is steady, dark in a way that makes your stomach flutter.
âBecause they donât just think youâre pretty,â he says carefully. âThey want to sleep with you.â
You stare, heart skipping. âOh.â
Matt watches your expression shift, your lips part slightly as realization starts to settle.
âThey-â You swallow. âThey wanted to⊠have sex with me?â
His jaw tightens. âYeah, angel. Thatâs what they wanted.â
Your cheeks burn instantly, your fingers gripping the hem of your oversized t-shirt. âOh.â
Matt studies you, the way your breath hitches slightly, the way your eyes flicker down before snapping back up.
âYou really didnât know?â he asks, voice gentler now.
You shake your head quickly. âNo, I- I just thought they were being nice.â
Matt exhales a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. âYouâre somethinâ else, sweetheart.â
Your fingers fidget with the fabric of your shirt, your face still warm. âI didnât- â You hesitate. âI donât really⊠talk about this kind of stuff.â
âI know.â His voice is soft, understanding.
You shift on your feet, gnawing at your lower lip. âI mean⊠I know what it is. But I donât-â You trail off, exhaling sharply. âI donât get it.â
Matt tilts his head slightly, his gaze heavy but patient. âWhat donât you get?â
You chew on your lip again, hesitating before blurting, âWhy do they want to?â
Matt blinks. âWhat?â
You huff, flustered now. âLike⊠why do guys want to do that so much? I donât get it.â
Matt runs a hand down his face, clearly trying to stay composed. âBecause it feels good.â
You inhale sharply, your face burning hotter. âOh.â
Your heart stammers in your chest, something thick and unfamiliar sitting heavy in the space between you.
You grip the counter. âHave youâŠâ You hesitate, then force the words out. âHave you done it?â
Your stomach flips, something strange curling in your gut. âOh.â
He smirks. âThat bother you?â
Your face flames. âN-no! I just-â You fumble, shaking your head quickly. âI just⊠I didnât know.â
For a second, neither of you move. The space between you is thick with something you donât quite understand, something unspoken but heavy. His gaze lingers, his expression unreadable, and it makes you fidget.
Your fingers play with the hem of your oversized t-shirt, twisting the fabric nervously. You donât even realize that it hikes up slightly, exposing more of your bare thighs, the soft curve of them accentuated by your thigh-high socks. But Matt notices.
His eyes flicker down for the briefest second before snapping back up.
You hesitate, then softly say, âMatt?â
His jaw tenses. âYeah?â
Your eyes stay fixed on the way your fingers pull at the fabric of your shirt. âDoes it⊠really feel good?â
Mattâs breath is slow, measured. âYeah, angel,â he murmurs. âIt does.â
You shift on your feet, heat creeping up your neck. âLike⊠how?â
His lips part slightly, and for the first time tonight, he looks caught off guard. He drags a hand down his face, exhaling through his nose like heâs trying to gather himself.
âItâs- â He stops, searching for the right words. âItâs different for everyone, but itâs⊠intense.â
You swallow, your fingers still gripping your shirt. âIntense how?â
His eyes darken slightly, his voice dropping a little lower. âItâs a kind of pressure. A build-up. And then⊠release.â
Your stomach flips, your whole body suddenly feeling too warm. âOh.â
Matt watches you carefully, taking in the way your breath has gone a little shallower, the way your fingers fidget with your shirt again, lifting the fabric another inch before you even realize it. His eyes flicker down, then back up, something sharp flashing in them for a second before he schools his expression.
âAngel,â he says slowly. âYou ever⊠thought about it before?â
You blink up at him, dazed. âThought about what?â
His jaw clenches slightly. âSex.â
Your breath catches, your entire body heating at the way the word rolls off his tongue so casually, like itâs nothing, like it doesnât make your knees feel weak.
âI- â You shift on your feet. âI mean, I know about it.â
âThatâs not what I asked,â Matt murmurs.
You feel like your face is on fire. âI donât- â You bite your lip, exhaling shakily. âI donât think so.â
Matt hums, tilting his head. âYou donât think so?â
You frown slightly, trying to collect your thoughts, but your mind is a mess, spinning, hazy from champagne and the weight of this conversation. âI just donât really-â You shift again, your thighs pressing together instinctively. âI donât get it.â
Matt watches the movement, his throat bobbing slightly before he lifts his gaze back to yours. âWhat donât you get, angel?â
You hesitate, feeling impossibly small under his gaze. âWhy people want it so much,â you admit, voice softer now, almost unsure.
Matt exhales slowly. âBecause it feels good, sweetheart. Itâs the closest you can get to someone. And when itâs with the right personâŠâ He trails off for a second, then looks at you intently. âItâs really good.â
You shiver, despite the heat curling in your stomach. âWhat does it feel like?â
Mattâs fingers twitch at his sides, like he wants to do something with them but wonât let himself.
âYou really wanna know?â he asks, voice lower now, rougher.
You nod, swallowing hard.
He leans against the counter, crossing his arms over his broad chest. âIt starts slow,â he murmurs. âYour body gets all warm, all needy.â His eyes flicker down to the way youâre fidgeting with your shirt, how your thighs shift slightly where you stand. âYou feel it everywhere. The pressure, the tension. And then when you finally get what you need-â He exhales sharply, shaking his head. âItâs like relief. Like every nerve in your body is completely relaxed all at once.â
You stare at him, heart hammering, your fingers tightening on your shirt as you shift again, a deep, unfamiliar heat curling in your stomach.
Matt notices. Of course he notices.
He tilts his head slightly. âYou ever been kissed before, angel?â
Your breath hitches. âWhat?â
His lips twitch slightly, but his expression remains unreadable. âYou heard me.â
Your cheeks burn. âI- I mean, yeah.â
His gaze sharpens. âYeah?â
You swallow hard. âOnce.â
Matt hums, like heâs not entirely convinced. âAnd did you feel anything?â
Your stomach twists. âI⊠I donât know.â
His jaw clenches slightly. âIf you donât know,â he murmurs, voice quieter now, rougher, âthen the answer is no.â
You press your thighs together again, your whole body suddenly feeling strange, tingly, like your skin is too tight. âOh.â
Mattâs gaze doesnât waver, dark and knowing, like heâs seeing right through you.
âYouâre feeling it now, arenât you?â
Your breath catches. âW-what?â
He exhales through his nose, his voice dropping lower, slower. âThe first part.â He tilts his head slightly, eyes dragging over you. âWarm and needy.â
Your pulse pounds in your ears. âI- I donât- â You shake your head quickly, even as your skin burns, your thighs press together again, your grip on your shirt tightening.
Matt takes a slow step toward you, his presence impossibly big in the small bathroom. âYou are feeling it,â he murmurs, eyes locked onto yours. âArenât you, angel?â
Your mouth opens, then closes, your face scorching hot. âHow can you tell?â you whisper.
He smirks, slow and lazy, but his voice is still rough, still tight. âYouâre not exactly subtle about it.â
Your breath stutters as realization hits you.
Your thighs- pressed together.
Your fingers- clutching at your shirt, pulling it tighter, twisting the fabric.
Your breathing- short, shallow.
You feel like your body isnât your own, like every nerve is suddenly hyperaware of the space between you and Matt, the way heâs looking at you, the way you can feel the heat radiating off of him even though heâs still an armâs length away.
He takes another step closer.
Your stomach flips, your heartbeat a frantic staccato against your ribs.
His voice is lower now, softer, but it makes your entire body tingle. âWhere are you feeling it?â
Your throat dries. âWhat?â
His gaze flickers down, then back up. âWhere do you feel it the most, angel?â
You swear the air in the room disappears. Your skin prickles with heat, embarrassment flooding you so fast that you physically shrink back.
âI- IâŠâ Your voice barely works, breathy and unsure.
Matt hums, his eyes flickering over you again, watching the way your fingers still grip your shirt, how your weight shifts between your legs.
You do feel it. Everywhere.
Your cheeks burn hotter, your head spinning. You donât even know what youâre supposed to say.
Matt watches you, his expression unreadable, his body still tense. His eyes flicker over your flushed skin, the way youâre gripping the hem of your oversized t-shirt like itâs the only thing keeping you grounded. He exhales slowly, shaking his head slightly before tilting it, his voice dropping back to something softer, more careful.
âTell me about that kiss you had.â
You blink up at him, still flustered, your brain barely catching up. âWhat?â
âThe one you said you had. The only one.â
You shift uncomfortably. âI- uh. What about it?â
Mattâs gaze sharpens. âHow did he touch you?â
Your stomach flips. âTouch me?â
He nods once. âYeah. His hands. Where were they?â
You frown slightly, thinking back, but thereâs nothing to think about. âHe⊠didnât.â
Mattâs brows lift slightly. âDidnât?â
You shake your head, feeling a little embarrassed now. âI mean⊠he just kissed me. Thatâs it.â
Mattâs jaw ticks, his fingers flexing against the edge of the counter. âHow long?â
You swallow. âLike⊠a second? Maybe two?â
Matt exhales sharply, shaking his head. âAnd what did it feel like?â
You bite your lip, thinking. âNothing.â
Mattâs lips press into a thin line. âNothing?â
You shrug. âI mean⊠it was just⊠a kiss.â
Matt takes another slow step toward you, his voice quieter now, rougher. âThatâs not what itâs supposed to feel like, angel.â
Your breath catches, your fingers twitching against the hem of your shirt. You look up at him now, the air between you impossibly thick.
ââŠThen what is it supposed to feel like?â
Matt scans your body, his gaze dragging from the top of your head down the length of your frame- your messy hair, your parted lips, your bare thighs still pressed together slightly. He glances toward the open bathroom door, his jaw tightening before he reaches out, gripping the handle and slowly pushing it shut.
The click of the latch echoes in the silence.
When he turns back to you, his expression is darker now, his voice impossibly low.
âThat warm and needy feeling?â His eyes lock onto yours, steady and intense. âIt should feel like itâs on fire.â
Your stomach flips violently. âWhat do you mean?â
Matt steps closer, towering over you, his scent wrapping around you like something heavy and intoxicating. He leans down, just enough for his breath to brush against your lips.
âLike this.â
And then he kisses you.
Itâs slow and intentional. His lips press against yours softly at first, like heâs giving you a chance to process, to pull away if you want to. But you donât.
You canât.
The second your breath hitches, he deepens it, his hand lifting just slightly like he wants to touch you but stops himself. His lips move against yours, slow and deliberate, and warmth spreads through your entire body. Itâs thick and pulsing and burning.
Your fingers tremble as they clutch your t-shirt, your body melting before you even realize it. This is different. This is new.
This is what he meant.
When he finally pulls away, youâre breathless, dazed, your lips tingling from the weight of his touch. Your wide eyes meet his, your heart slamming against your ribs.
ââŠOh.â
Mattâs jaw is tight, his breathing slow, controlled. His hand twitches at his side like heâs restraining himself, his eyes searching yours.
âNow tell me, angel,â his voice is rough, nearly a whisper.
âDid that feel like nothing?â
You swallow hard, shaking your head slowly. ââŠNo.â
Mattâs lips twitch, his gaze darkening slightly. âWhere did you feel it?â
You shift on your feet, feeling impossibly small under his stare. âI- I donât know.â
Matt hums, stepping closer. âNo?â His hands lift, slow, careful, fingertips ghosting over your cheeks as he cups your face gently. His thumbs brush against your skin, warm and grounding. âDid you feel it here?â
You inhale sharply, lips parting slightly, but shake your head. âNot⊠really.â
His hands move down, skimming over your shoulders, gripping them lightly. âHere?â
You shake your head again, heart pounding.
His hands trail lower, skimming down your arms, barely touching you. You shiver, exhaling shakily, but still, you shake your head.
Matt watches you, his movements slow, deliberate, as his palms skim over your waist, his thumbs pressing lightly into the soft curve of your stomach.
Your breath stutters.
His hands move lower.
Your fingers twitch against the hem of your oversized t-shirt as he settles them just above your hips, his touch firm, grounding. âWhat about here?â
You swallow, feeling lightheaded, but shake your head again.
And then his hands drift lower, fingertips grazing the soft skin of your lower stomach, right above where that deep, pulsing warmth sits heavy between your thighs.
Your body stiffens. Your breath catches.
Mattâs lips part slightly, his eyes locked onto yours, watching, waiting.
You nod, the smallest movement, barely even noticeable.
But he notices.
âYeah?â His voice is softer now, rougher. âWhatâs it feel like, angel?â
Your thighs squeeze together instinctively, your skin burning under his touch. âI donât know,â you stammer, breathless.
Matt hums, his thumbs tracing slow, lazy circles against your skin. âYou sure?â
You nod quickly, but your body betrays you, shifting slightly into his touch.
Mattâs lips twitch again, something knowing behind his dark gaze as his hands slide down, fingertips trailing over the tops of your thighs before dragging back up, slow, teasing.
You shudder.
âDoes it feel like a pulse?â he murmurs. âLike a throb?â His fingers trace the sensitive skin just above your knee, then glide up, his palms warm as they press lightly into the soft flesh of your thighs. âAlmost a little wet?â
Your entire body jerks slightly, heat flooding your face, your stomach twisting violently in the most delicious way.
âMatt,â you whisper, mortified, shaking your head quickly.
His hands squeeze your thighs gently. âHmm?â
You shake your head harder, but your body is betraying you again, shifting into his touch, your knees wobbling slightly as warmth pools deep in your core.
Matt watches you, eyes dark and knowing. Then, after a beat, he pulls his hands away, stepping back slightly.
Your body feels cold without his touch.
His gaze lingers on you, studying every little movement, every breath, every tremble. Then he asks, âDo you like that feeling?â
You hesitate, lips parting, but finally, finally, you nod.
Matt exhales slowly, his jaw tight, his hands flexing at his sides before his lips twitch into something almost smug. âIt can feel even better.â
Your breath catches. âIt⊠gets better?â
Matt chuckles, low and deep, shaking his head slightly. âSo innocent,â he murmurs.
You frown slightly, embarrassed, shifting on your feet again.
But then his hand lifts again, fingertips brushing against your cheek before sliding into your hair, tilting your chin up slightly.
His gaze flickers over you, slow, measured.
And then he whispers, âWanna see?â
Your breath stutters. Your pulse pounds. Your stomach twists in the most confusing, exhilarating way.
And then before you can even think- you nod.
Matt doesnât hesitate.
His lips crash against yours, hotter this time, hungrier. His hands cup your face, tilting you exactly where he wants you as his mouth moves against yours, coaxing you into something deeper, something that makes that pulsing heat between your thighs turn into something more. It turns into something desperate, something dangerous.
Your fingers lift, gripping onto his shirt, needing something to hold onto as your legs feel weak beneath you.
He deepens the kiss, pulling you even closer, his hands firm as they slide from your face down to your waist, gripping you like he doesnât want to let go. His lips are hot, insistent, moving against yours in a way that makes your head spin, your entire body buzzing with arousal.
His hands tighten around your waist, and before you can even register whatâs happening, he lifts you effortlessly, gripping the backs of your thighs and setting you onto the cool bathroom counter. The contrast between the cold surface and his warm touch makes you shiver, your legs instinctively parting just enough for him to step between them.
And then- asound escapes your throat.
Itâs soft, barely there. Nothing but a breathy little whimper as he tugs you closer, his hands gripping your thighs.
But itâs enough.
Your entire body locks up as realization sinks in, heat rushing to your face as you abruptly pull away, eyes wide with embarrassment. âI- I didnât mean to-â
Mattâs breathing is heavy, his lips swollen from kissing you, but his eyes- his eyes are dark, focused, hungry.
He tilts his head, his hands still holding you firmly in place. âItâs normal, angel,â he murmurs, his voice impossibly low, deep enough to send shivers down your spine.
You swallow hard, still mortified. âBut-â
He shakes his head, his thumb tracing slow, soothing circles against your thigh. âIt just means you like it,â he explains, his voice warm, coaxing. âMeans it feels good.â
You shift, heat curling in your stomach again. âStill-â
âAnd it makes me feel good too.â
Your breath catches.
Mattâs eyes flicker over your face, his expression unreadable for a moment before he adds, âMakes me feel warm and needy, just like you.â
Your stomach flips, your fingers tightening against the edge of the counter.
Your voice is quieter now, unsure. âThen⊠why donât you make any sounds?â
Matt stills, his lips twitching slightly, but itâs not amusement- itâs something else. His fingers flex against your thighs before dragging slowly up, fingertips pressing lightly into the fabric of your oversized t-shirt, tracing just under the hem.
He leans in, so close that his lips ghost against yours when he speaks.
âYou want me to?â
Your pulse stutters.
You should probably say no.
But you donât.
Instead, you nod.
Matt exhales through his nose, his smirk finally breaking through. âYeah?â
You nod again, slower this time.
His hands slide up, gripping your waist, and then he kisses you again.
But this time, itâs different.
Itâs slower and deeper. His tongue tracing against yours in a way that makes your head spin, your body arching slightly toward him before you even realize youâre doing it. His hands slide over your thighs, gripping them, pulling you forward until your legs wrap loosely around his waist.
A low sound rumbles from the back of his throat.
Itâs quiet, but itâs there, vibrating against your lips, making your stomach flip and your entire body heat.
You gasp softly, your fingers gripping his shirt as the sound sends something dangerous pulsing between your thighs.
Matt must notice, because he groans again, this time a little louder, his hands tightening on your hips, his fingers pressing into your skin like heâs holding himself back.
The tension is unbearable now, your skin hot, your breaths short, every little movement making your head spin.
His hands gripped you tight, pulling you flush against him. His fingers trace slow, teasing patterns against your thighs, sending shivers up your spine. Your entire body is warm, buzzing, that unfamiliar but intoxicating feeling creeping higher and higher until a soft, breathy moan slips past your lips.
Matt freezes for a fraction of a second, his entire body tensing like a live wire, his hands gripping you tighter. And then he groans, deep and low, like the sound did something to him, like he needed to hear it.
His hands move before he can stop himself, sliding up your sides, fingertips teasing beneath the hem of your oversized t-shirt, skimming your bare skin as he pushes the fabric up, his palms warm and making you skin tingle in ways youâve never imagined were possible.
A sudden, sharp knock on the door.
You barely stifle a yelp, but Matt is quicker.
His palm immediately covers your mouth, his other hand gripping your hip as he tenses, his head snapping toward the door. His light eyes flicker back to yours, and he puts a single finger to his lips, signaling for you to stay quiet.
Your heart is pounding.
âYo, Matt,â your brotherâs voice comes from the other side of the door. âYou seen my sister? She left her laundry downstairs, and itâs hogging the dryer.â
Matt exhales slowly, his hand still over your mouth as he tilts his head toward the door, his voice calm, casual, like he hasnât just had his hands all over you.
âNah, dude. No idea where she is.â
The doorknob rattles.
You flinch.
Mattâs grip tightens on you instinctively, his hand pressing a little firmer against your mouth, his other hand flexing against your waist.
Your brother sighs. âBro, unlock the door. I gotta brush my teeth.â
Mattâs jaw clenches, his eyes locking onto yours, something sharp flashing behind them before he whispers, so low you can barely hear it-
âFuck.â
For a split second, you donât know what heâs going to do.
Then, without hesitation, he lifts you again, your legs wrapping around his waist on instinct, and moves.
You barely have time to process before heâs setting you down into the bathtub, your back pressing against the cool surface. He leans in close, eyes serious, his hand brushing over your cheek for just a second.
âStay quiet,â he whispers.
You nod quickly, heart hammering.
Matt exhales sharply, stepping back, adjusting himself. You blink, watching as he tugs his waistband up, shifting awkwardly, like heâs hiding something.
Your brows furrow slightly. âWhat are you-â
Matt immediately puts a finger to his lips again, shaking his head. âShh.â
You shut your mouth, still confused, still burning from everything that just happened.
Before you can think too hard about it, Matt pulls the shower curtain closed, hiding you from view just as he unlocks the door and swings it open.
Your brother steps in, rubbing his face tiredly. âDude, what took you so long?â
Matt shrugs, leaning casually against the sink, like he hasnât just shoved you into the bathtub to keep you hidden. âWas taking a piss.â
Your brother makes a face. âLong ass piss bro.â
Matt just smirks, crossing his arms, his body perfectly positioned to block any possible view of the tub. âLong ass piss for a long ass dick, what can I say.â
Your brother rolls his eyes, grabbing his toothbrush. âWhatever.â
You hold your breath, praying he doesnât notice anything, praying he doesnât hear the way your breathing is still uneven, the way your body is still buzzing from Mattâs touch.
Mattâs hand twitches against the sink, his knuckles flexing. His jaw is tight, his body still tense. Like heâs just barely keeping himself under control.
After a few minutes of tense silence, the sound of running water and your brother brushing his teeth fills the room. You stay completely still in the tub, pressing your lips together to keep yourself from making a sound, even though your heart is still racing from what had just happened.
Finally, your brother spits into the sink, wipes his mouth, and mutters, âAlright, Iâm going to my room.â
Matt doesnât miss a beat. âYeah, Iâm just gonna wash my face, Iâll meet you there.â
Your brother hums in response, the bathroom door creaking as he steps out. The moment you hear his footsteps retreating down the hall, Matt quickly shuts the door, locking it again before exhaling heavily. His shoulders relax slightly as he pulls back the shower curtain, his gaze landing on you, still curled up in the bathtub.
âAlright heâs gone.â he murmurs, stepping forward and reaching for you.
You let out a breath, still a little dazed as his hands slide under your thighs, lifting you up effortlessly. He sets you back down, steadying you on your feet before his hands settle on your waist.
You look up at him, eyes wide. âOh my God.â
Matt chuckles, shaking his head slightly. âRelax, angel. He had no clue.â
You exhale shakily, running your hands through your hair. The room is still heavy with everything that had happened, and while part of you is still flustered and embarrassed, the other part- the part thatâs still warm, still needy- doesnât want the moment to be over.
Matt watches you carefully, and for a second, you think heâs going to lean in again, that heâs going to pick up where you left off. But then, he sighs, smoothing his hands over your sides.
âIâm sorry, sweetheart,â he murmurs. âWe canât go further right now. Your brotherâs waiting for me, and heâs still looking for you.â
You sigh, deflating a little. You know heâs right, but still, the heat swirling in your stomach doesnât quite go away. âOkay,â you mumble, chewing on your lip.
Thereâs a brief pause before something else pops into your head, something you donât quite understand. âMatt?â
He tilts his head slightly. âYeah?â
You hesitate, shifting on your feet. âWhat were you⊠doing? With your⊠you knowâŠ?â
Matt blinks, then raises an eyebrow. âMy cock?â he asks bluntly.
Your entire face burns. âMatt!â
He smirks at your reaction, but instead of answering immediately, he reaches down, adjusting the waistband of his sweatpants. You watch confused until he untucks himself, and suddenly, the thick outline of him is tenting out his grey sweatpants prominently.
Your breath catches in your throat.
You stare.
Itâs⊠big.
Your fingers twitch at your sides, a deep, unfamiliar curiosity curling in your stomach. Without even thinking, your hand twitches forward slightly before you stop yourself at the last second, pulling your hand back quickly.
âSorry,â you blurt out, embarrassed.
But Matt shakes his head immediately, stepping closer. âNo, sweetheart. Donât be sorry,â he murmurs, his voice softer now, coaxing. âPlease do.â
Your lips part slightly, your heart hammering in your chest.
âItâll make me feel good,â he adds, his eyes locked onto yours.
You swallow hard, hesitating just a moment longer before you slowly reach forward again, your fingers lightly wrapping around him through the fabric.
Matt exhales sharply, his head tilting back slightly. âFuuuck,â he mutters under his breath.
Your fingers tighten slightly, gripping him a little more firmly.
His hands flex at his sides before one of them lifts to grip the counter. âThis,â he breathes out, his eyes fluttering shut for a second, âthis is another way of knowing that I like it.â
You stare at him, your breath short and quick. âI did this to you?â you whisper.
Matt groans quietly, nodding. âYeah, angel.â
You blink, still gripping him through his sweatpants, still feeling the heat of him against your palm. You squeeze slightly, watching as his jaw tenses, his breath stuttering.
Your voice is quieter now. âIs it like⊠how i feelâŠwet?â
Matt exhales, his fingers twitching against the counter. âYeah,â he murmurs. âJust like that. When you get wet, my dick gets hard.â
Your cheeks burn. âWhy does it do that?â
Matt leans in then, his breath warm against your ear, his voice barely above a whisper.
âItâs your body getting ready for me to be inside you.â
Your entire body locks up, heat flooding your core so intensely that your thighs press together on instinct. Your fingers twitch around him, squeezing his clothed length a little harder.
Matt groans, his head dropping to your shoulder, his breath ragged.
âAlright, sweetheart,â he rasps, his voice strained, âIâm gonna cum if you do that. Youâre making me crazy.â
You freeze. âWait- what?â
Matt lifts his head, exhaling heavily before he leans down, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your forehead.
âIâll explain to you another time,â he murmurs. âBut for now? Get to bed.â
You nod slowly, still reeling, still confused, still burning. âWhen will you show me?â
Matt smirks as he watches you hesitate, his voice softer now as he nudges you toward the door.
âWhenever you earn it.â
PT.2 HEREđ
MASTERLIST
for @mattsobvimyfav
tags: @ilovejohnnieguilbertsblog @mattsturnii @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @watercolorskyy @strangecatpeach @katie1002 @1ovesiick @slut4christopherr @mattgirl4eva @mayalovesturn @chriss-slutt (if u wanna be on the taglist, just comment)
â sub!matt getting a taste of his own medicine. . .
the loud, needy whines gave it away.
youâd always asked matt not to jerk off when you werenât present. just because you always wanted to be with him and be able to see him cum. and in return, you didnât masturbate without him either. thatâs just how it worked with you two.
so, given that you were pretty active with matt and you were always around when heâd jerk off, you knew exactly what his moans sounded like when he was doing it. which is why you knew exactly what was occurring when you stood before your bedroom door and heard those high-pitched, filthy sounds echoing from the other side. matt seemed to think he was still home alone.
you quietly twist open the door knob, softly stepping into the room. and there he is. legs slightly spread as he lays on his back, hair tousled, face red. his head is tossed back and his right hand is jerking his cock at a surprisingly fast pace. he doesnât even know youâre here.
you watch as matt is met with his orgasmâclearly not his first one of the nightâand his body violently trembles as high-pitched whimpers spill from his lips. his sticky cum spurts onto his thighs and his lower tummy.
âahem.â
mattâs head snaps up at the sound of your voice. oh, heâs screwed. for some reason, heâs quick to pull the blanket over himself and cover upâmaybe trying to hide the evidence?
âh-how long have youâhave you been standing thereâŠ?â matt stammers, the tips of his ears burning red. âlong enough to know that you touched yourself and came without permission.â you snap, crossing your arms and sauntering over to the side of the bed. matt gulps.
âiâiâm sorry, i just couldnâtâcouldnât wait any longer!â matt pleads, trying to reason with you. he tries to sit up, to which you shove him back down. âno. you disobeyed me, matthew. donât you know only naughty boys touch themselves without permission? or are you too stupid to know that?â you scold.
matt pouts at that. he opens his mouth to speak againâprobably an excuseâbut you cut him off before any words can slip out of his mouth. âi think you need to learn how badly it hurts my feelings when you touch yourself without permission,â you say with a faux pout. âsit up.â
matt follows your orders like a damn puppy, scrambling to sit up against the headboard. âoh, now youâre beinâ a good boy.â you tease, running your hand through his hair and tugging slightly.
you walk away from your bed and step into your closet, out of mattâs view. you rummage around until you finally find themâthe fuzzy black handcuffs. right next to them was a box. inside was your new dildo you havenât tried yet. perfect. the universe seemed to be on your side tonight.
you walk back into the bedroom with both in your hand, and mattâs eyes widen like saucers. stepping over to him, you cuff each of his wrists to the bed posts. âmaybe if you were a good boy, i wouldnât have to restrain you. but it seems you canât be trusted, hm?â
âno, pleaseââ
âbe quiet.â you snap, stepping away from the bed. you pull your rolling desk chair right in front of the bed. this whole situation was making you unbelievably wetâyou could feel your sticky folds sticking to your panties. you loved punishing matt. because you enjoyed hearing him whine and you liked the power trip it gave you. but most of all, you loved it because deep down, you knew matt was enjoying it.
you peel off your shirt in a deliberately leisure manner, unclasping your bra as well and dropping it onto the floor. matt stares at you in adoration, lips parted, breathing heavy. next is your shorts. you slip them off, dragging them down your thighs tantalizingly slow. matt whines.
âimpatient little thing, hm?â you coo, dropping your shorts on the floor with the rest of your clothes. matt tugs at his handcuffs, âplease, mamaâŠâ
you ignore his pleading, slipping off your soaked panties and tossing them onto the bed by mattâs feet. you grab your dildo from the box, sitting on the chair and spreading your legs wide.
mattâs jaw drops. you looked so beautiful. he desperately tugs at his restraints again, to which you chuckle dryly. you run the silicone tip up and down your slit, teasing matt beyond belief.
finally, you plunge it into yourself, and a loud moan seeps through your lips. matt shudders.
heâs fucked.
so very fucked.
it felt so good. not as good as mattâs cock, but still good. you squeeze your eyes shut, increasing the thrusting pace of the dildo in your hand.
âmama, pleaseââ matt pleads, his voice cracking in desperation. poor, poor thing. his cock was painfully hard, his tip red and leaking. matt was sweating profusely, despite the shivers running through him as he watched you fuck yourself.
he wanted needed you. needed to be the one making you feel good. not some stupid piece of silicone.
âmmm, feels so good, babyâŠâ you purr, eyes rolling back as you bring your free hand down to rub tight circles on your clit. âwish you could be the one makinâ mama feel this good,â you sigh. âitâs a shame my boy doesnât know how to follow simple rules.â
matt whines between his ragged breaths, trying his best to sit up to get a better view of you. he tugs slightly at the cuffs, starting to buck his hips up into the air. âm-mama pleaseâiâll be a good boy i promise! c-can make you feel so good!â he grovels, sounding absolutely wrecked.
the toy inside you starts to hit that sweet spot and it has you teetering on the brink of an orgasm. you finally fixate your squinted eyes on him and realize what a mess he looks.
messy hairâsome of it sticking to his forehead from sweat. chest heaving. cheeks flushed. and his hips pathetically bucking up into the air in pure desperation.
mattâs whimpers grow more prominent as your moans get more frequent. you were both going to cum. and only one of you was actually touching yourself. how pathetic.
you rub your finger faster against your clit, chasing your orgasm. just as the tidal wave hits you, a violent shudder runs through your body and a loud mewl accompanies it. but, your sounds arenât the only ones youâre hearing.
panting, you pull the toy out of yourself and set it down, looking up at matt whoâs on the bed. as if on cue, as soon as mattâs eyes meet yours, it simply takes one more buck of his hips for him to let out a pathetic cry, ropes of cum spurting out onto his lower tummy and upper thighs.
âawww. poor thing came just from watching mama get off? thatâs pathetic, matthew,â you coo, stalking over to the bed and starting to rid him of his handcuffs. âyâjust so perfect, mamaâŠi like seeinâ you feel good, even if iâm not always the one doinâ itâŠâ he croons in absolute adoration of you.
god, youâre never getting rid of him.
authorâs note. . . hi! sorry this is super short and absolutely horrendous AND not proofreadâŠiâve had this idea for a while iâm just lazy. im not doing my usual taglist for this one, just people i know for a fact like sub!matt. i hope you liked it im going to sleep now goodnight
â content warnings: smut â +18 â age gap â raw dogginâ â big dick!matt â semi-public sex â (kinda) rough sex â daddy kink â partial bondage (wrists) â breeding kink (?) â creampie â praise kink â (slight) degradation kink â dacryphilia (?) â overstimulation â use of safe word + more.
He isnât supposed to feel this way.
Matt knows he isnât supposed to feel this way about his student, but the way you speak to him with your voice all soft and smooth â as if you know what that does to him â or the way you look at him with those damned fuck-me eyes like you want him to sport a hard-on in the middle of the lectureâwas making it hard to keep things professional.
He had previously put boundaries between you and made it clear that he isnât ready to make whatever you had going on more than it already is.
Despite being the one to initiate the stop to your physical relationship, he felt disappointed when you didnât even complain or beg like he thought you would.
Matt sighed deeply, shaking his head subtly as if thatâd get rid of the distracting thoughts he was having in the middle of a lecture.
As he droned on about the topic he is supposed to go through today, he couldnât help but notice how distracted you were, blatantly flirting with some guy in the third row from the front, batting your eyelashes and smiling so sweetly as you listened to the guy talk.
A muscle in Mattâs jaw twitched, his eyes narrowing when he saw the guy lean in close, his hand casually coming to rest on your arm.
âSnap out of it Matthew.â He mentally scolded himself.
But he simply couldnât focus on teaching with you sitting there, giving fuck-me eyes to some other guy who... is probably more suitable for you than a divorced dad like him.
He was starting to overthink, his anxiety taking over for a split second until you looked his way, your eyes locking with his and your lips curling up with a barely there smirk â in a way that almost seemed like you were taunting him â before you looked back at the guy.
Mattâs eyes darkened when he understood that you were deliberately trying to push his buttons, trying to make him jealous, and heâd be lying if he said he wasnât affected.
He was burning with jealousy.
He texted you during a lull in the lecture â where students were either taking notes from the slideshow or doing their own thing â and his mood soured further when you acted like a damned brat.
«read the text messages»
Your breath hitched in your throat as you read his messages and you could see how genuinely pissed off he was even through text.
Your heart pounded against your ribcage as you walked towards Mattâs office, your panties already soaked through due to the way he looked at you during the lecture.
You simply wanted to have fun and see if Matt would care if you flirted with a guy â since he wanted to end their arrangement â but now you wondered if you did the right thing.
A shaky breath full of nerves and excitement exited you as you finally reached his office and slowly opened the door to find him sitting at his desk, his jaw tight, eyes dead and dark.
âLock the door, sweetheart.â Mattâs voice was low, controlled and eerily calm.
Seeing him so calm had you thrown completely off, and you decided to play it safe and drop the attitude, complying with his request as you closed and locked the door of his office before turning around to face him.
More arousal pooled in your panties from the way he was watching you with those intense, blue eyes of his.
âCome here.â
Your legs moved on their own as you walked towards his desk, feeling like you were fully exposed due to how intensely he was looking at youâshamelessly raking his gaze over your body as if he was undressing you in his mind.
âSit on my lap.â His expression was unreadable as he spoke, giving way to nothing.
You could be a brat and say no and that he was being unfair, but the way his words flowed out of his mouth so smoothly like honey had your knees weak.
You lowered yourself onto his lap without any complaint, your bare thighs on each side of his hips and your pleated skirt riding up due to the position, showing more of your thighs.
Mattâs hands immediately placed themselves on your thighs, caressing them in a borderline possessive manner that had you feeling like your whole body was burning with desire.
âDid you have fun?â He suddenly asked, catching you off guard and eliciting a confused âwhat?â from you.
Mattâs lips curled up with a ghost of a smirk, finding your confusion endearing despite the anger and jealousy still lingering in him.
âDid you have fun shamelessly flirting with that guy? Was it exciting to have him eating right out of your fucking palm the moment you gave him those fuck-me eyes?â His jaw muscle ticked at the mere reminder of the guy.
His hands trailed higher up your thighs, making your breath hitch.
âAnd that damned attitude... Jesus.â Matt chuckled mirthlessly, his grip on your thighs tightening as he leaned forward until your faces were inches apart.
âShould I just fuck it out of you? That bratty fucking attitude of yours?â
Your mouth opened and closed but nothing came outâtoo stunned by his sudden demeanor to say anything.
He was usually more gentler than this but clearly your attempt to make him jealous affected him more than you thought it would.
âY-yeah...â You managed to breathe out, not knowing what exactly you were saying yes to but your body screamed for his touch â almost starving for it â which made it difficult to think straight.
Mattâs smirk widened slightly at your shaky agreement, his pupils dilating further. His length strained painfully against the fabric of his jeans, pulsing against your clothed pussy.
His hands confidently trailed up from your thighs to just below your tits, his thumbs grazing the underside of them through your shirt before trailing his hands back down, this time gripping your hips tightly to pull you closer.
âYou gonna be a good girl for me? Let me fuck you right here in my office?â
His words had your stomach doing somersaults, and you found yourself nodding, whispering a needy âplease, profâ.
A slow grin made its way onto Mattâs lips when he saw your desperation, finding your needy plea equal parts amusing and sexy.
The moment you sank down on his cock, Mattâs hands gripped your hips almost painfullyâno doubt leaving marks as he began to lift you up and down repeatedly while thrusting up into you.
âWearing such a slutty little skirt to class... Did you want me to fuck you like this?â
He panted harshly, his hold on your hips tightening slightly as he used you as he pleased, going so deep it bordered on painful due to his tip pounding against your cervix.
âN-no- didnât meanâ f-fuckk!â
You barely held back a scream as Matt changed his angle, the slight curve of his cock helping him hit that sweet spot inside your gummy walls.
His hips pistoned up into you at an impressive speed, burying his length deep each time.
Matt gritted his teeth, grunting in exertion and looking like a vision in his sexy red sweater and slight scruff that screamed dilf.
Your hand slid down to rub your clit in time with his thrusts as you got closer, your eyes rolling back briefly as your mind flooded with pleasure.
Matt saw the action and his eyes darkened, his jealousy rearing its ugly head.
Only he could touch you.
It was an absurd thing to think, but in this moment everything made him jealous, even your own clothes for always being wrapped around you.
Matt stopped abruptly, causing you to stop moving too.
You stared at him in confusion as he took his belt â which was placed neatly on his desk â and bound your wrists behind your back.
You were slightly taken back, but you were definitely not against it.
âKinky,â you teased, but he wasnât having any of it.
âShut up.â He snapped.
âSafe word.â Matt looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to tell him a word, but you just stared at him, confusion etched on your face.
âSafe word?â You repeated dumbly.
âTell me a safe word... because I donât know if I can stop myself from ruining this sweet pussy for anyone else.â
He was dead seriousâand that had your body shuddering in excitement.
âMy lecturer is hot.â
His brows furrowed at the sentence, but then a lazy, dangerous grin spread across his lips.
âYouâre not taking this seriously.â His words were eerily calm, almost like he was taunting you for being so stupidâlike he knew heâll reduce you to nothing more than whimpers and moans.
Oh you were so so naĂŻve.
Matt was fucking you so hard that you were seeing literal sparks behind your eyes every time he went deep.
Your thighs trembled as you began moving your hips in time with his thrusts, chasing after that sweet release.
âWhat did you just call me?â
Matt suddenly stopped moving, eliciting a needy whine of protest from you. His voice dropped an octave lower when he spoke again, becoming huskier, giving way to how much your word affected him.
âDaddy? Is that what you just said?â
âS-sorry, it just slipped out... I-â
You breathed heavily, your chest heaving with ragged breaths. Your whole body felt like it was on fire and the pressure that was building in your abdomen slowly subsided due to lack of stimulation.
Matt couldnât believe how much you calling him daddy turned him on and he needed to hear you say it again.
He began to fuck you in earnest, his arm wrapping tightly around your waist to keep you from squirming as his tip kissed your cervix with each hard thrust.
His free hand tangled in your hair and pulled you down into a heated kissâall tongue and teeth.
Matt pulled back and whispered harshly against your lips, his voice deeper than usual.
âCall me that again.â
And you did.
âDaddyâffuuckk--â
You chocked back a moan when he began to fuck you faster, his hips slapping against your thighs and creating loud wet smacks.
Matt groaned low in his throat when he heard your desperate mewls and whimpers, the sounds of your pleasure only making him fuck you harder.
âMâgonna-â Your breath hitched, âCum-- Matt, sh-shitâshit!â
Your whole body tensed â mouth opening in a silent scream, back arching â as the first wave of your orgasm crashed over you. Warmth spread in your tummy, pleasure coursing throughout your whole body.
Your mind blanked with pleasure, zeroing in on the feeling of his cock still plowing in and out of you, hitting your sweet spots.
He fucked you through your orgasm, relishing in the sight of your eyes rolling back in pure, unadulterated, bliss as tears of pleasure streamed down your cheeks.
âOh, fuuckkk, youâre squeezing my dick soo good.â Matt groaned, feeling himself growing closer thanks to the feeling of your inner walls spasming around his sensitive shaft.
The sight of your tears was making his balls draw tight, his climax approaching quickly.
âGonna cum,â Matt warned, âNeed to fill up this pretty pussy and stuff you full of my cumâ fuuck--â
His movements became jerky and uncoordinated as he got closer to the edge, fucking you in sharp, deep thrusts.
His hips stuttered as he came deep inside you, eyes rolling back briefly before closing shut, mouth opening in an "o" shape. His load painted your velvet walls white as you milked his cock dry.
But Matt didnât stop there.
His need to make you his and knock you up were too strong.
âIâm not done with you yet,â he growled softly and his eyes snapped openâblue orbs basically black with desire.
âNeed more... You can take more, canât you sweetheart?â
You found yourself unable to say no even though you were too sensitiveâhis words and the primal look in his eyes had you feeling like you might as well just let him knock you up.
Watching you nod, Matt lips curled up with a satisfied smirk.
âGood girl.â He whispered, fingers gripping your hips so tightly that you were sure youâd have bruises tomorrow.
He fucked you through your fifth orgasm â having cum thrice himself â not letting you catch your breath. You felt your nerves burning with overstimulationâyour body overwhelmed by the pleasure he was giving you.
âl-lecturerâmmh-ahâis hot... my lecturer- my lecturer is hot!â You cried out, feeling yourself trembling with overstimulation.
Matt snapped out of it at the sound of your trembling voice, his gaze softening profusely when he heard you struggling to say your safe word.
âShouldâve picked a shorter one.â He murmured breathlessly, a hint of teasing in his tone. He slowed down before stopping completely, pulling you into a surprisingly gentle kiss.
Matt pulled out slowly â hissing softly against your lips at how sensitive you both were â before gently freeing your wrists from the makeshift handcuffs he made out of his belt, rubbing your reddening wrists.
He pulled you closer and your body immediately melted into him, making him hold you tighter against his chest as he nuzzled his face into your hair, inhaling your sweet scent mixed with your perfume and the musky scent of sex.
âGood girl,â Matt whispered against your hair, âMy good girl.â
â° english is not my first language! || wc: 2.2k â°
Isaâs rambling ۶ৠMy bad for taking so long to finish this fic but your girl was having a hard time writing for some reason like I didnât have an ounce of motivation, but I finally finished it and I feel like I kinda rushed the ending âcause I wanted to post it today.
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