coworker!matt softdom!matt rivals to lovers
part 2 part 3 (coming soon!)
this series contains ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ smut w plot, mentions of alcohol and smoking, use of pet names, oral (m!recieving), somewhat public sex, kinda rough/hate sex, p n v, bickering, light degradation, fighting with light blood (not between reader and matt)
note: imagine the bar to look like this & this
you stacked the ceramic plates in one hand, using your other to expertly wipe the crumbs from the table. the stereo music was low, the rickety chairs were deserted, and the old bar was finally coming to a close for the night. you made your way to the kitchen to give the new dishwasher some more work to do. he barely looked up from the suds of the sink as you handed him the last of the dirtied dinnerware.
the next order of business in closing the pub was less favourable.
you stepped into the regular domain of a not-so-favourable coworker, the counter where all the booze and other refreshments lived. thankfully, he was nowhere to be seen, so you began wiping down the surfaces. you hummed a tune to make the work go faster, until the sound of a throat clearing interrupted your song.
you carried on with cleaning as you responded, "yes, matt?"
there was no one else that the passive aggressive coughing could've come from besides matt, your 'not-so-favourable coworker'.
"i did that already." he spoke plainly, as if interacting with you was the most boresome chore.
you ran the soap-filled cloth over the metal of the beer taps. "well, you missed a spot."
matt scoffed from behind you, and you heard the stomp of his shoes advancing closer. the steps halted from across the counter, where the bar stools stood. you felt his eyes burning into your scalp as you ignored him, neurotically scrubbing a stain on the wood to avoid meeting his gaze.
"do you need something?" you asked blandly.
"i need you to stop making more work for yourself. it's disturbing."
"talking to me like you're my boss."
"i will be soon." he affirmed, his voice prematurely etched in authority.
you finally brought your head up from cleaning, and there it was— the very reason that you didn't want to look at him. the dark lights of the restaurant illuminated his brunette curls and annoyingly faultless face. he wore a fully black outfit that matched your own. his shirt was casual and short sleeved, and it hugged on the thickness of his biceps, while his pants were more dress-like, a trouser, held up by a belt. his arm, riddled with tattoos, was folded up to hold a small white towel that he had slung over his shoulder. the only uniform requirement was all black, and it was moments like these where you were both irritated and grateful for it. you wished he wasn't so hot, it would've made things so much easier for you.
you shook the thoughts that infiltrated your mind before responding, "you wish."
"i don't have to. marcus is gonna come to his senses soon and realize who's the better fit."
marcus, the owner of the bar, had recently fired the general manager for reasons unknown. it was obvious the only choices for the new manager were you and matt, considering that you'd been there the longest. the owner had been hanging around more often in the last few days, observing the two of you intently. it forced you and matt to be on your best behavior towards one another, which was no easy feat. but at closing, when marcus was long gone, you were free to bicker to your hearts content.
"yeah, keep dreaming buddy." you snorted, coming around the counter to start pushing in all of the chairs.
he didn't bother with any assistance, and continued ranting. "y'know, you're gonna regret the things you've said t'me when i control who cleans the bathrooms, smartass."
"seems like you're just kinky for a power dynamic." you shot at him, mindlessly flipping the 'open' sign the other way around.
he huffed. "you're the one trying to get me all secluded."
"it's closing time. god forbid i do my job and lock the door."
a small smirk curled at his lip as he crossed his arms to his chest. you both turned your heads to the sound of the kitchen door closing, a signal that meant the dishwasher had left for the day. matt squeaked a stool out, one that you had freshly stowed away under the lip of the counter. once he was sat, he used a single hand to pull a second from under the edge.
"are you expecting me to join you?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.
"i mean, i can count the tips alone, if you trust me." he placed a tin can on the counter, the one with a half-torn-off tomato sauce label that the restaurant used for tips. a chorus of rattles sounded as he poured the paper and coins on the wood. he smiled at you coyly, knowing what the outcome of the interaction would be.
you reluctantly sat on the seat next to him as he fished the remaining money from the tin.
"y'know," he began, "most of these tips are probably mine."
you quipped back instantly, your eyes practically rolling into your skull. "yeah, only 'cause you flirt with all the customers."
he raised his gaze from the dollars up to your face. you could've sworn you saw his eyes flit to your lips before he replied, "mm you seem jealous."
you did feel something when you watched matt interact with all the pretty girls that would come up to him. he would converse, not-so-subtly trace their skimpy outfits, and smile as he made them their vodka crans. it almost enraged you, the way they would bat their eyes at him. you never looked deep enough into yourself to ask why it made you so angry. this was partly because you tried to keep all matt-related content away from your brain, but also because you were afraid of what it meant that you were thinking about him at all.
"i am jealous of them actually—they get to think you're just a hot bartender. i envy them for not knowing your horrible personality." you almost immediately regretted your choice of words.
"hot bartender?" he repeated, smirking but not looking up from counting the bills.
"from the outside perspective." you mumbled, trying to somehow take back what you had said.
"good to know you think i'm hot."
"i'm positive you did, sweetheart."
you pulled your face into a disgusted expression, but matt didn't miss how your thighs simultaneously squeezed together at the sound of the nickname. an all-too-familiar, and frustratingly sexy smile spread on his face. you ignored his eyes, instead looking at the way his fingers flipped through the bills. he caught this too, which only made his cockiness grow.
"if you had better social skills, maybe you'd be racking in the tips like me." he said, flattening a few dollars against the hard surface.
"i have excellent social skills." you scoffed.
his eyes squinted in doubt.
you disregarded his scepticism, and continued on speaking. "you just don't exactly bring out my happy-go-lucky side."
"it's not like you talk to the customers with much joy, either." he argued.
"oh i'm sorry, I forgot that it's in the job description to get all their numbers."
"you wouldn't be able to if you tried."
you stared at him, something that felt like anger trickling through your body. but it wasn't quite anger— it was almost determination, like you had something to prove. you pocketed your share of the money and got up, the stool dragging along the beaten floor as you shoved it back into place. you wrapped around the counter, retreating back where you had been while cleaning.
you tried, for a moment, to ignore matt. but validating yourself was too tempting.
"wanna bet?" you challenged, untying your waist apron from behind.
"that you can't get five numbers in one night? absolutely." matt followed you to where you stood, and began parroting you by also taking off his server's apron.
you both folded the fabrics in sync, and you bent over to place yours in the small cubby under the bar top, the way you always did after a shift. his eyes lazily skimmed over your body as he waited for an opportunity to utilize the compartment.
when you stood, he was planted so close behind you that your back collided against his chest. his hands instinctively steadied you by your waist as you stumbled into him. your senses were hit like a train as he grabbed a hold of you. his intoxicating scent, clean and savoury, overcame you. you breathed in unconsciously, relishing in the woodsy aroma that couldn't help but feel so familiar. when your feet were firm on the ground, and you were successfully stabilized, matt's hands didn't move off your curves. instead, he took the position he had you in as an ample opportunity to lean down to your ear.
"what do i get if i win?" his voice was low, smoky, and laced with an undertone that you couldn't quite pinpoint. cockiness? desire?
the hairs on your neck stood, and goosebumps began trailing up your skin. you became acutely aware of the proximity of your ass to his waist, and spun around in an attempt to abolish the arousal creeping between your legs.
the new alignment was no better. his hands were still locked to your waist, his body still agonizingly close, but now you could see his face. and god that made it worse.
the faint shading of a beard at his cheeks, his eyes low and blue, and the faint smug grin that played on his lips made it hopeless for you to stay stoic.
"what do you want.. if you win?" you choked out, trying to harness all the confidence you could as his gaze traveled to your lips.
the tension was rich, and coated the atmosphere like honey. his head tilted down at you, eyes dark with indecision. his arms flexed as he delegated just enough pressure to hold you, his grasp stern but still gentle. you maintained a fixed and untelling expression the best you could, but was weak in hiding the way your breath hitched as he advanced impossibly closer.
he guided you backwards, pushing your body to meet the hard surface. the movement was the opposite of delicate or soothing, and you propped your hands behind you to support yourself. your fingers smashed into a stack of plastic cups, causing them to consequently clatter to the ground, scattering across the floor in the most inconvenient fashion. although the disorder broke the stillness, his posture didn't change, and his eyes stayed glued to you as if any disturbance would mean nothing to him.
but at the break in the silence, you regained your composure. what were you doing, allowing him to touch you the way he was? you pushed his arms off of you, careful not to linger on the tattoos you had previously been secretly admiring.
his tongue punched the inside of his cheek as he backed away from you. something in him switched, and he shook his head like he was breaking out of a trance. the look he had before, like he couldn't rip his eyes from you, was completely washed from his face.
you stood, stunned, for a moment before you responded, "what?"
"if you can't get five numbers tomorrow, and i win, i want you to turn in your resignation."
the infamous feeling of hate seeped through you, your brows crumpling together.
he crossed his arms, nodding. "very."
you silently imagined yourself spending even one more week with matt, and immediately felt your stomach turn in sickness. you didn't bother obsessing over the details, not giving him the satisfaction of you even thinking you were going to lose the bet.
a/n☕️: first matt fic and i accidentally kept using chris’s name. im pretty sure i replaced all my mistakes, but if i didn’t, please ignore 😭
also, smut will be in the next part!
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