Summary: A harmless Christmas video turns dangerous when Matt shows up in a Santa suit and you can’t stop testing his self-control. Teasing glances and stolen touches build until the cameras are off—and Matt decides exactly how to handle someone who wants to be on his naughty list. R - Mature/Explicit 18+ (4k+ words)
TW: Explicit sexual content (18+), Consensual BDSM / power imbalance, Spanking & physical punishment, Choking with belt / Breath play (consensual), Degradation & possessive language, Use of “Daddy” / Daddy kink, Rough sex, Exhibitionism / teasing, Explicit language
A/N: Hi I'm so so sorry this has taken me so long to post the original was 8k words I got it to 6k, now 4k and I'm just hoping you all love it. As always comments and feedback are appreciated. Proof read by @thechratt-twins (The Matt Girl)
The camera light blinked red as Chris adjusted the angle one more time, as you tried to keep your breathing steady from your spot on the couch, just outside the frame. Matt sat in the center of their living room wearing that ridiculous Santa costume—the red velvet suit, the white trim, the belt, the fucking hat—and you couldn't stop staring.
"Alright, alright," Nick was saying, holding up a wrapped gift with a bright red bow. "Matt, this one's for you from Chris."
Matt grinned as he reached for the present, adjusting his Santa hat. "Ho ho ho! Let's see what we have here!" He shook the box near his ear, staying in character. "Hmm, have you been good this year, Chris? Santa's checking his list twice, you know."
Chris burst out laughing. "Dude, just open it."
"You're so weird," Nick chimed in, though he was grinning as he filmed on his phone for behind-the-scenes content.
Matt rolled his eyes, as he tore into the wrapping paper. It was just some fun—just Matt being goofy, playing up the Santa bit for the video. But you bit down hard on your bottom lip anyway. The costume shouldn't have been hot. It was cheap, probably ordered from Amazon. But something about seeing Matt in that authoritative red suit, talking about naughty and nice...
Fuck.
You shifted on the couch, pressing your thighs together hard, trying to focus on anything else. But every time he fixed that stupid hat or adjusted his belt, your mind wandered further into dangerous territory.
What would it feel like to sit on his lap? To have him ask if you'd been naughty or nice? To have him bend you over his knee and—
"You good over there?"
You snapped back to reality to find all three of them looking at you. Chris had paused filming.
"What? Yeah, I'm fine," you said quickly, feeling heat rush to your cheeks.
"You look flushed," Nick observed, narrowing his eyes.
"It's just warm in here," you lied, pulling at the collar of your sweater.
Matt's gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than necessary, something unreadable flickering across his face, before Chris called his attention back to the camera. "Okay, Nick's turn to give Matt a gift!"
They filmed for another twenty minutes, exchanging presents and making jokes. You spent every second of it lost in increasingly filthy fantasies. By the time they wrapped up, you'd made a decision.
If Matt wanted to talk about naughty lists, you'd show him exactly how naughty you could be.
The first opportunity came in the kitchen an hour later. The triplets had ordered pizza, and you'd volunteered to grab plates from the bottom cabinet. You glanced over your shoulder—Matt was leaning against the counter, scrolling through his phone. Perfect.
You made your move, bending at the waist instead of crouching, letting your shorts move obscenely high on your ass. You took your time reaching for the plates, arching your back just a little more than necessary.
The sudden silence behind you was deafening. You heard his phone hit the counter, heard the sharp intake of breath. When you glanced back, his knuckles were white where he gripped the edge of the granite, his eyes locked on your ass with an intensity that made your pussy clench.
"Need help?" His voice came out rough, strained.
"Nope, I got it," you said sweetly, straightening up slowly—making sure he got the full view—and turning to face him with innocent eyes. You could see the slight bulge in his sweatpants that hadn't been there a minute ago. His hand moved subtly to adjust himself, and the gesture sent a thrill straight through you.
"Okay." The word came out clipped, controlled. But his eyes were tracking your every movement as you walked past him, close enough that your arm brushed his chest.
Round two came during the movie. They'd put on some action film you weren't paying attention to. You waited, patient, letting him relax into the cushions before making your move.
Halfway through, you shifted your position with a soft sigh, swinging your legs across him and perching yourself in his lap. His whole body went rigid. "Comfortable?" he asked, his voice carefully neutral, but his hand came to rest on your thigh—hot and heavy.
"Very," you purred, and then you rolled your hips. Just once, slow and deliberate, grinding your ass down against him.
His fingers dug into your thigh hard enough to bruise, and you felt it—the twitch of his cock beneath you, still slightly hard from your earlier teasing. His breathing changed, coming faster through his nose.
"Don't," he warned quietly, his voice dropping to something dangerous.
You waited a beat, two, then did it again. This time you really pressed down, rolling your hips in a circle that left no question about what you were doing. You felt him getting harder by the second, his cock pressing against your ass.
His breath came out harsh and hot against your ear. "I said, don't."
But there was heat in his voice now, not just warning. Raw want. His hand had moved from your thigh to your hip, gripping so tight you knew you'd have finger-shaped bruises tomorrow. The thought made you wet.
You shifted again, slower this time, grinding down and forward. His cock was fully hard now, pressing thick and insistent against you through his sweatpants.
His other hand shot to your hip, both hands now holding you in a bruising grip. His mouth came to your ear, his voice barely above a whisper but absolutely lethal. "You're playing a dangerous game."
"I don't know what you mean," you whispered back, all innocent, even as you felt him throb against you.
The growl that rumbled through his chest went straight to your clit. His fingers flex, and for a second you thought he might actually do something right there. But he just held you still, his breathing ragged, his cock hard as steel beneath you.
The look on his face drove you crazy. His eyes were black, pupils blown wide with want. The air between you crackled with tension so thick you could taste it.
You bit your lip and gave him the sweetest smile you could manage, as you watched his chest rise and fall with harsh breaths. A promise. A threat.
You'd pay for this later.
But you couldn't fucking wait.
When you straightened and glanced back, his eyes were black, his jaw clenched so tight you could see the muscle jumping.
"I'm gonna go edit," Nick announced, standing up, breaking you out of your thoughts. "Chris, you coming?"
"Yeah, yeah," Chris said, following him down the hall.
The second they were gone, Matt was on his feet.
"What the fuck are you doing?" His voice was low, steady, but you could hear the edge in it.
You bit your lip, looking up at him through your lashes. "Nothing."
"Bullshit." He stepped closer, crowding you against the couch. "You've been teasing me all fucking day. Bending over, grinding on me in front of my brothers." His hand came up to grip your jaw. "You want to tell me what that's about?"
Your breath caught. This close, you could see how dark his eyes had gotten, could feel the tension radiating off him.
"I don't—"
"Matt! Come here for a sec!" Nick's voice called from down the hall.
"Stay here," he said, his voice rough. "Don't fucking move."
You collapsed back against the wall as he walked away, your heart hammering, thighs clenched together, your whole body aching for him.
Matt found Nick hunched over his laptop, scrubbing through footage from the Santa video.
"What's up?"
"Dude, look at this." Nick turned the screen toward him. "This is so cute."
Matt stepped closer. It was footage from when Chris had briefly moved the camera, accidentally capturing you off-screen.
Matt's breath stopped.
You were staring at him—at Santa Matt—with your bottom lip caught between your teeth, thighs pressed together, and the look on your face was pure hunger.
"I was gonna cut it obviously," Nick said, smiling. "But look how she's looking at you. She's like completely mesmerized." He laughed. "You guys are so cute, it's actually disgusting."
Matt couldn't speak. He just stared at the screen as everything clicked into place.
The costume. The teasing. The grinding.
You'd been turned on all day, desperate for him, trying to provoke him into doing something about it.
"You good?" Nick asked.
"Yeah," Matt said roughly. "Thanks for showing me."
As he walked back to his room, his mind was already racing. If you wanted to be naughty, he was going to treat you as such.
You were on his bed scrolling through your phone when the door opened.
Matt appeared in the doorway wearing the Santa costume, but everything about him was different now. The way he looked at you made your stomach drop and your pussy clench.
He stepped inside and locked the door.
"Matt—"
"Nick showed me the footage." His voice was quiet, controlled, dangerous. "Of you staring at me like a desperate little slut while we filmed."
Heat flooded your face. "I wasn't—"
"Don't lie to me." He crossed the room slowly, predatory, each step deliberate. "I know exactly what you've been doing all day. Teasing me. Grinding that ass on me. Bending over so I could see what's mine." He stopped in front of you, close enough that you had to tilt your head back to meet his eyes. "You wanted my attention? You've got it. Now strip."
Your hands shook as you reached for your sweater.
"Slower," he commanded, his chest rising and falling harder now. "You watched me all day now it's my turn, I want to watch every second of this."
You pulled it off slowly, and his eyes glued to you as more of your skin was revealed. When you reached for your bra, his hand moved to palm himself through the red velvet pants, the outline of his hard cock visible. The clasp came undone and you let the bra fall, exposing your breasts to the cool air and his hungry gaze.
"Fuck," he breathed, his jaw tight. His free hand flexed at his side like he was physically restraining himself from touching you. "Keep going."
You hooked your thumbs into your shorts, pushing them down your hips along with your panties in one slow movement. His breathing got heavier as you stepped out of them, now completely naked before him while he was still fully dressed in that fucking Santa costume.
"Come here."
You walked to him on shaky legs. He reached out and ran his hand down your neck, over your collarbone, then cupped your breast roughly. His thumb brushed over your nipple before he pinched it hard, making you gasp and arch into him.
"All mine," he said, his voice rough with possession. His other hand slid down your stomach, over your hip, then gripped your ass hard enough to bruise. "Turn around. Hands on the bed."
You obeyed, bending over with your hands on the mattress. You heard him step back, felt the weight of his eyes on you.
"Spread your legs wider, I want to see the mess I made."
You did, and the vulnerability of the position made you throb. His hand traced down your spine slowly, almost gently, then gripped your ass again, spreading you open so he could see everything.
"Look at this pretty pussy," he murmured. His fingers slid through your wetness and you whimpered. "Soaked already. You've been wet all day, haven't you? Thinking about me fucking you."
"Yes," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
He pushed two fingers inside you without warning and you cried out. "Yes, what?"
"Yes, daddy."
"That's right." He pumped his fingers slowly, tortuously, curling them to hit that spot that made your legs shake. "This is mine. You're mine. Say it."
"I'm yours."
He pulled his fingers out and brought them to your mouth. "Taste yourself. Taste how desperate you are for me."
You opened your mouth and he pushed his fingers in. The taste of yourself on his skin made you moan around them.
"Good girl." He pulled them out and wiped them on your lips. "Now on your knees."
You dropped immediately. He freed his cock, already hard and leaking, and the sight of him made your mouth water.
"Open."
You opened your mouth and he pushed inside without warning, hitting the back of your throat and making you gag. His hand fisted in your hair, holding you in place.
"That's it. Choke on it."
He fucked your mouth brutally, each thrust deliberate and punishing. Tears sprang to your eyes immediately as he hit the back of your throat over and over. You tried to breathe through your nose but he was relentless, his grip on your hair tight enough to sting.
"Look at me," he commanded.
You forced your watering eyes up to meet his. The look on his face—pure dominance—made you moan around his cock.
"Fuck, that's hot." His other hand came to grip your jaw, angling your head exactly how he wanted it. His hips snapped forward harder, faster, using your mouth. "Taking it so well. Such a good little slut."
Your hands gripped his thighs, nails digging in as you struggled to take him. Drool ran down your chin, tears streaked your cheeks, and you'd never felt more used or more turned on.
"That's it, baby. Just like that." His breathing got ragged, his thrusts more erratic. "Gonna cum down your throat. You're gonna swallow every fucking drop, understand?"
You tried to nod, but his grip kept you still. He thrust deep one more time and held you there, your nose pressed against him as he came. You felt his cock pulse as he emptied himself down your throat, the taste of him flooding your senses.
"Swallow," he commanded, his voice strained. "All of it."
You swallowed around him, struggling not to gag, your throat working to take everything he gave you. When you'd swallowed it all, he slowly pulled out, his cock still half-hard and glistening.
"Open your mouth. Show me."
You opened wide, showing him your empty mouth.
He sat down on the edge of the bed, his eyes narrow with intent. "Good fucking girl." He ran his thumb over your swollen bottom lip. "Now get over my lap."
You moved to straddle him, one knee lifting to climb into his lap, but before you could settle over him, his hand shot up and gripped your throat. With a rough shove, he forced you down across his thighs instead, your body sprawling over his lap. Your heart was racing, pussy throbbing with frustration—the shock of being manhandled mixed with pure need making your head spin.
His hand came down hard on your ass without warning, the crack of it echoing in the room. You yelped, more from surprise than pain.
"That's one," he said. "You're getting twenty. Ten for being naughty and another ten because I want to. And you're going to count every single one and (fucking) thank me for it. If you lose count or forget to thank me, we start over. Understand?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good." His hand came down again, harder this time, on the other cheek.
"Two, thank you," you gasped.
The third strike landed in the same spot as the first, and the sting was sharper now. "Three, thank you daddy."
He didn't give you time to recover. Four, five, six, seven and eight came in quick succession, alternating cheeks, each one harder than the last. Your skin was burning, and you could feel yourself getting wetter with each strike.
He felt the wetness seeping through his Santa suit where you pressed against his thigh. "Look at you," he said, his voice thick. "Getting wetter from being spanked. You love this, don't you? Love being punished." He shifted his leg beneath you, feeling the damp heat. "Fuck, you're soaked."
The ninth strike came fast, barely there but the tenth, was the hardest yet and landed low, close to your pussy, making you scream out.
"TEN, THANK YOU DADDY!"
His hand rubbed over your burning skin, soothing and possessive. "Halfway there, baby. Think you can take ten more?"
"Yes, please."
Eleven also came down hard and you shouted the count. Twelve and thirteen followed quickly, and you were struggling to catch your breath between strikes.
"Fourteen, thank you," you whimpered, your voice breaking.
"What was that? I didn't hear you."
"Fourteen, thank you daddy!" you said louder, clearer.
"Better." Fifteen landed and you counted it properly. Sixteen made you sob. Seventeen had you shaking. Eighteen had you gasping, your ass on fire and your pussy dripping. Nineteen came down and you almost forgot to count, catching yourself at the last second. "Nineteen, thank… thank you sir!"
"Last one," he said. "Make it count."
The twentieth strike was the hardest of all, and you screamed. "TWENTY, THANK YOU DADDY!"
"Such a good girl," he praised, his hand rubbing over your abused skin. "Took your punishment so well."
Then his fingers slid through your wetness and you moaned. "Fuck, you're dripping. This pussy is begging for it, isn't it?"
"Yes, daddy, please—"
He pushed two fingers inside you and you cried out. But instead of fucking you with them, he curled them up, finding that spot inside you that made you see stars, and pressed.
"Oh fuck," you gasped, your whole body tensing.
"That's it," he murmured. "Right there, huh?"
He kept the pressure steady, his fingers barely moving, just pressing and rubbing that spot with perfect precision. His other hand reached around to find your clit, circling it slowly.
The combination was overwhelming. Your legs started shaking, your pussy clenching around his fingers.
"Are you getting close already?" he asked, and you could hear the smirk in his voice.
"Yes, yes, please daddy, I'm so close—"
He pulled his fingers away completely.
"No!" you whimpered, your orgasm retreating.
"You cum when I say you can cum," he said firmly. "Not before."
He waited until your breathing slowed, until you'd come down from the edge, then pushed his fingers back inside. This time he fucked you with them, hard and fast, the wet sounds obscene in the quiet room.
"Listen to that," he said. "Listen to how wet you are for me. So fucking needy."
His fingers curled up again, finding that spot, and he rubbed it mercilessly while his thumb found your clit. The dual stimulation had you climbing fast, your moans getting louder.
"Please," you begged. "Please let me cum, I, I—" You stuttered.
His fingers moved harder than before, the heel of his palm grinding against your clit with each thrust. The sounds were filthy—your wetness, your moans, his heavy breathing.
"Fuck," he groaned. "Squeezing my fingers so good. Can't wait to feel this pussy on my cock."
You were shaking, so close, trying desperately to hold back. "Daddy, please, I can't—I need to—"
"Go on baby, cum for me." His fingers curled up, rubbing that spot, while his thumb pressed hard on your clit, and you came hard, your back arching, pushing your pussy onto his fingers more. "That's it baby, use my hand."
Tears ran down your face from the strong wave of pleasure running through you. Your whole body was tense and trembling, your moans still just short whines as you came down from your orgasm.
He pulled his fingers out abruptly. Strong hands gripped your waist, lifting you effortlessly off his lap and throwing you onto the bed. You landed hard on your front, your very sensitive, still burning ass exposed.
You heard the wet sounds behind you - his hand working his cock, slicking himself up with your own wetness. Then without warning, he lined himself up and slammed inside you in one brutal, punishing thrust.
You screamed, the sudden fullness after being empty almost overwhelming.
"Fuck," he groaned, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. "This pussy feels so fucking good.”
He didn't give you time to adjust. He fucked you hard and fast, each thrust driving you forward on the bed. The angle had him hitting deep, hitting that spot his fingers had been torturing, and you were right back on the edge immediately.
"Daddy, please, can I cum, please let me cum—"
"Cum for me," he growled, one hand sliding up your back to grip your hair, pulling your head back. "Cum all over my cock."
The permission sent you over the edge. Your body tensed, muscles clenching around him as waves of pleasure crashed through you. You screamed, your orgasm ripping through you hard and fast.
But he didn't stop. He kept fucking you, driving into you even harder through your orgasm. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room. Your ass was still burning from the spanking, and every thrust made it sting more, the pain mixing with the pleasure until you couldn't tell them apart.
"Look at you," he panted. "Taking my cock so well. Such a good little slut. This is what you wanted all day, isn't it? Wanted me to fuck you like this."
"Yes, daddy, yes—" you whimpered, oversensitive but unable to stop, riding the razor's edge between pain and pleasure.
His hand came down on your already-sore ass and you cried out. "Say it louder. Tell me what you wanted."
"I wanted you to fuck me!" you screamed. "Wanted you to use me, wanted your cock inside me—"
"That's right." He spanked you again, then again, timing it with his thrusts. "This pussy is mine. You're mine. Say it."
"I'm yours, oh fuck, all yours—"
He pulled you up by your hair so your back was against his chest, one arm wrapped around your waist to hold you in place while he fucked up into you. His other hand found your throat, not squeezing, just holding, possessive.
"Ready to cum again for me?" he asked, his lips against your ear.
"Yes, please, fuck, please—"
"Then cum," he commanded. "Cum on my cock right fucking now."
Your second orgasm slammed into you. You came so hard you saw stars, your pussy clenching around him, your whole body shaking. You would have collapsed if he wasn't holding you up.
Then he pulled out suddenly, leaving you empty and whimpering. You heard the distinctive sound of leather sliding through fabric loops—his belt being pulled from his Santa pants.
"Up," he commanded. "Hands and knees."
You scrambled to obey, your arms shaking. You felt the cool leather wrap around your throat, not tight enough to choke but firm enough that you felt every inch of it against your skin. He wrapped it once, twice, creating a makeshift leash.
"Fuck," you breathed, your pussy clenching around nothing.
He tested the tension, pulling just enough that your head tilted back slightly. "Color?" You knew what he was asking—that quiet check-in that made your chest tighten with something deeper than arousal. Even in the middle of this, he was watching you, making sure you were okay. "Green," you whispered, the word soft but certain, "So fucking green."
"Good girl." He lined himself up and slammed back inside you in one thrust, immediately setting a brutal pace. With each thrust, he pulled on the belt, controlling the angle of your body, controlling your breathing, controlling everything.
The restriction made every sensation sharper. Each time he pulled, your air cut off just slightly, making your head spin, making everything more intense. He leaned down and kissed along your shoulder blade, his teeth scraping your skin, the gentleness contrasting with the brutal way he was fucking you.
"This what you need?" he growled against your neck, punctuating each word with a thrust and a pull on the belt. "Need me to control you like this? Use you like this?"
"Yes—daddy—fuck—" You could barely get the words out, your voice strained from the angle of your neck.
He pulled harder on the belt, restricting your air more, and fucked into you deeper. The combination of the restriction, the angle, the fullness, his cock hitting that perfect spot—it was too much.
"Daddy, I'm gonna—I can't—"
"Don't you dare," he warned, but he didn't slow down, didn't ease up on the belt. If anything, he fucked you harder, pulled the belt tighter.
You tried. You tried so hard to hold it back. But the restriction, the control, the way he was using your body—it was impossible. Your orgasm slammed into you without permission, ripping through you so hard you would have collapsed if he wasn't holding you up by the belt.
You came with a strangled scream, your pussy clenching around him violently, your whole body convulsing. The belt restricted your breathing just enough that the orgasm seemed to go on forever, wave after wave crashing through you until you couldn't tell where one ended and another began.
"Fuck, that's it," he groaned, his rhythm faltering. "Couldn't help yourself, could you? Came anyway like a desperate little slut—".
He pulled the belt tighter and slammed in deep one final time. His body went rigid above you, every muscle tensing as he buried himself to the hilt. You felt him pulse inside you—thick, hard throbs that filled you completely—and his groan was raw, almost pained with the intensity of it. His hips jerked involuntarily as he came, his cock throbbing against your walls as he spilled into you in hot, heavy waves. His breathing turned ragged, his free hand gripping your hip hard enough to bruise as his orgasm tore through him, his body shaking with the force of his release.
The sensation triggered another aftershock that had you whimpering weakly, clenching around him as he continued to pulse inside you, riding out the last waves of his climax.
He immediately loosened the belt, unwrapping it from your neck and tossing it aside. You collapsed forward onto the mattress, gasping for air, your whole body shaking violently.
"Hey, hey, I've got you," he murmured, pulling you against his chest. One hand stroked your hair while the other rubbed soothing circles on your back. "Breathe for me, baby. Deep breaths."
You tried, but your whole body was still trembling, your breathing coming in ragged gasps. Another tremor ran through you and you moaned weakly.
"Look at me." His voice was gentle but firm. You managed to focus on his face, his eyes soft with concern. "You with me?"
"Yeah," you whispered, your voice completely wrecked. "I'm good. Just... fuck."
He smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "You did so fucking good. So perfect for me." His hand continued stroking your hair as he studied your face. "How's your throat? Does it hurt?"
You swallowed experimentally. "A little. It's good though."
"I'll get you water in a second." His hand slid down to your hip. "Roll over for me. Let me see."
You turned onto your stomach with a soft whimper, and felt his hands gently soothing your cheeks, assessing the damage.
"Fuck, baby, you're so red." His fingers traced over the heated skin and you hissed. "Does it hurt?"
"Burns," you admitted. "But I liked it. I liked all of it."
"Yeah?" He leaned down and pressed soft kisses to each cheek, making you shiver. "You took it so well. Took everything I gave you."
He got up and you heard him moving around the room. A moment later he was back with a warm, damp cloth and some soothing gel. "This might sting a little," he warned before gently cleaning between your legs and then applying the gel to your ass.
You whimpered at the sensitivity, and he paused. "Too much?"
"No, keep going. Feels good."
He finished cleaning you up with careful, tender touches, then tossed the cloth aside and helped you sit up against the headboard. "Stay here."
He disappeared and came back with a bottle of water, already opened. "Drink."
You took it gratefully, the cool liquid soothing your raw throat. He watched you drink half the bottle before taking it from you and setting it on the nightstand.
"Better?"
"Yeah." You looked up at him, still feeling floaty and vulnerable. "That was..."
"Intense?" He sat beside you, pulling you back against his chest.
"Perfect," you finished. He grabbed you some clothes from his closet. As you got dressed, he kept touching you—a hand on your waist, fingers brushing your arm—like he couldn't quite stop.
"By the way," you said as you headed toward the bathroom together, "you should definitely keep the costume."
He laughed. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. But maybe just for me next time."
"Only for you," he said, his voice dropping low, possessive. "Everything's only for you."
After cleaning up, you both made your way back to the living room, trying to look casual. Chris and Nick were on the couch, scrolling their phones, and barely glanced up when you walked in.
Matt settled down on the couch and you curled into his side, his arm around your shoulders. Chris started talking about their next video idea, and you nodded along, but all you could focus on was Matt's hand on you, the slight soreness between your legs, the satisfied ache in your body.
Matt leaned down, his lips brushing your ear so quietly his brothers couldn't hear. "Still my good girl, even if you are on the naughty list."
You bit back a smile, heat flooding through you again. Being on his naughty list was exactly where you wanted to stay.
A laid-back cabin day turns charged as playful games and skateboarding spark secret tension between you and Chris. A stolen kiss in the rain deepens your connection, leaving you both aching and struggling to hide what’s growing between you.
A/N: I am so so sorry this has taken so long and i hope you are all still wanting this as i have so much planned but this is Part 4 finally, i hope the wait was worth it this part is longer than the other but i hope you like it. As always leave comments and feedback i love you all so much. Proof read by by: @thechratt-twins (The Matt Girl)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
By the time breakfast plates were cleared, the afternoon had started to creep in with Nick setting up Monopoly on the kitchen table, the cabin had settled into that lazy mid-day rhythm—the kind where no one’s in a rush to be anywhere, but the day hums quietly with possibility.
Chris and Matt had disappeared outside to clear and stack firewood for that night, leaving you with Nick, who was dramatically arranging the colorful bills into neat stacks like he was the banker of some high-stakes casino.
“So,” Nick said, without looking up, his voice all faux-serious. “You and Chris.”
Your stomach gave a tiny jolt, though you kept your tone light. “Huh what about us?”
He tapped the little top hat token against the table, squinting at you like he was Sherlock Holmes. “You’ve got a… vibe. Don’t deny it.”
You forced a laugh, picking up the thimble. “Nick, you think everyone has a vibe. Last night you said Matt and that raccoon outside had one.”
“Because they did,” Nick shot back. “The raccoon respected him.”
You rolled your eyes, but before Nick could press further, the screen door banged open and the sound of Matt’s laugh carried in. Saved.
Chris trailed in after him, hair damp from the work outside, shirt clinging a little too well to his shoulders. The second he stepped into the kitchen, his gaze found yours—quick, fleeting, but unmistakable.
Nick caught it too. You braced for another round of interrogation, but instead, Nick only smirked and shook his head like he was letting the idea go. “Man, you two are weird,” he said casually, tossing a stack of fake money at Matt. “Anyway, pick your tokens, losers. It’s Monopoly time.”
Matt dropped into a chair, grabbing the little car. “Why do you always get to be the banker?”
“Because I’m trustworthy,” Nick said, then immediately shoved a five-dollar bill into his pocket with exaggerated stealth. “And also humble.”
Chris slid into the seat beside you, brushing your arm as he sat. “Yeah, sure. Last game you ended up with like, four hotels and no one knows how.”
“Genius,” Nick corrected, already handing out property cards.
The board came alive with bickering—Matt demanding fair trades, Chris making side comments that earned him groans, and Nick putting on his best evil-villain laugh every time someone landed on his properties. The triplet energy was nonstop—snappy comebacks, shared grins, insults that somehow sounded affectionate.
Two hours had passed, at one point, when Nick bankrupted Matt with a gleeful slam of houses on Boardwalk, he threw his arms up and shouted, “And once again, Nicholas, the superior triplet, reigns supreme!”
Matt shoved him with a scowl, and Chris just muttered, “Unbelievable,” before sneaking a few bills toward your pile like you were a secret ally.
Nick narrowed his eyes. “Did you just cheat for them?”
Chris shrugged innocently. “Must’ve been a breeze. Wind blew the money over.”
Nick groaned but let it slide, too caught up in crowing about his monopoly.
The game stretched on, full of laughter and ridiculous arguments about rent and house rules. Eventually, Matt leaned back, rubbing a hand over his face. “Okay, new plan—skateboarding after this. Before it rains.”
You perked up. “Skateboarding?”
“Yeah,” Chris said, shooting you a sideways grin. “Figured we’d actually move before we turn into part of the furniture.”
“Speak for yourselves,” Nick said, shuffling his stack of winnings. “I’m already the king of this table. Physical activity is beneath me now.”
Chris reached across and flicked one of Nick’s hotels off the board. “You’re coming.”
Nick gasped in mock betrayal. “You dare challenge the emperor ?”
The three brothers dissolved into bickering again, voices overlapping, and you couldn’t help smiling. The tension you’d felt earlier had thinned into something easier—Nick clearly wasn’t pressing on the idea of you and Chris anymore, at least not seriously.
Chris caught your eye when no one else was looking, a tiny, private smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. You pressed your knee against his under the table, just for a second, his hand dropping down to grab yours for a split moment, small touches you never saw possible were now the only thing running through your mind.
The game finally ended with Nick sprawled dramatically across the couch, crowning himself “Champion of Capitalism,” while Matt muttered something about never touching Monopoly again.
“Anyway” Chris already at the door, lacing his sneakers. “Skate park before the rain hits,” he said, glancing at you with a grin that felt like a dare. “You in?”
You smirked. “Obviously.”
The skate park was just down the road, small but decent—concrete ramps, a rail or two, graffiti from many people that may or may not include all of your handy work and enough space to make the triplets loud and competitive. The clouds overhead had thickened, the air heavy and buzzing with that before-the-storm energy.
Nick dropped his board down with a flourish. “Prepare to witness greatness,” he declared, wobbling into motion and immediately almost eating it on a flat surface.
Matt barked out a laugh. “Yeah, greatness at falling.”
Chris kicked off hard, board rolling fast across the concrete. He glanced back over his shoulder at you, mischief already written across his grin. “C’mon, don’t tell me you’re gonna make this easy.”
You shot forward, catching up quick, wheels humming under you. “Easy? You’re the one in trouble.”
That was all it took. He laughed and darted ahead, and suddenly you were both weaving through the park, boards slicing tight turns, shoulders almost brushing whenever he cut too close.
“Hey!” you called as he blocked your line, forcing you into a sharper carve.
“Strategy,” Chris shot back, breathless with laughter.
You surged past him anyway, letting your momentum carry you up a ramp and down again, landing smooth. Chris was right behind, chasing close enough that you felt the air shift when he caught up.
When you slowed, he matched your pace, boards nearly colliding. His arm bumped yours, lingered.
“Show-off,” he muttered, low enough just for you.
You smirked sideways at him. “Jealous?”
Chris leaned in closer, shoulder pressed to yours as you both coasted. His grin softened, voice dropping to a husky whisper. “Not even a little. I like the chase.”
Your stomach flipped. His eyes lingered on yours too long, too openly, and the warmth in his voice felt heavier than the humid sky above.
From across the park, Nick yelled, “If you two start making heart eyes mid-grind, I will throw myself into traffic!”
You laughed, but Chris didn’t move away. If anything, he leaned just a fraction closer, his hand ghosting against your lower back as though steadying you, though you didn’t need it.
“You know they’re not paying real attention,” he murmured, his breath brushing your cheek. “We could…” His sentence trailed off, but the implication hung thick in the air.
Your pulse raced. The tension between you was unbearable—every brush of contact charged, every look loaded with the memory of last night. And now, here in the open, it felt even more dangerous.
Matt shouted something about Nick being the worst skater alive, and both brothers dissolved into loud bickering on the far side of the park. Chris used the distraction, his knee bumping yours as he leaned in, lips dangerously close to your ear.
“Say my name again,” he whispered, voice rough.
The sound of wheels clattering on concrete filled the park, but all you could hear was him.
“Chris,” you breathed.
His eyes darkened, jaw tightening, a low groan sounds from the back of his throat and for one dizzy moment you thought he’d close the distance right there, no matter who was watching.
But he didn’t. He only smirked, pulling back just enough to keep you aching for more. “Careful,” he said quietly. “Another one of those, and I might forget we’re not alone.”
Your entire body burned, trembling with the weight of what you both wanted and weren’t quite allowed to take.
And as the first drops of rain began to fall against the concrete, you realized you weren’t sure how much longer either of you could keep pretending restraint was enough.
Thunder cracked in the distance, sharp enough to rattle through your chest. A fat raindrop splattered on your wrist, then another, and within seconds the whole sky seemed to collapse in sheets.
“Called it!” Matt yelled, already kicking his board up and sprinting toward the road.
Nick let out a dramatic groan, dragging his board under one arm as the downpour drenched him. “I knew exercise was a scam!”
You and Chris barely had time to exchange a look before both of you shot forward, skating hard, rain slicking the concrete and misting into your faces. Laughter tore out of you as you swerved puddles, wheels hissing loud in the storm. Chris stayed right beside you, so close his spray splashed across your legs, so close it felt like he was chasing you still.
By the time the cabin came into view through the sheets of rain, Nick and Matt had already darted up the steps, boards clattering against the porch as they burst inside.
You and Chris skidded to a stop at the bottom, breathless, water dripping from your hair and clothes. He caught the doorframe with one hand, bracing himself, while you hovered just beside him. The storm roared all around—wind in the trees, rain hammering the roof—but at the threshold, the world seemed to pause.
Chris looked at you through the downpour, water sliding down his temple, eyes dark and searching. Neither of you moved to follow the others inside.
Pushing damp strands back from his face, rain running down his jaw, Chris searched your expression like he was memorizing it. The storm should’ve made everything feel wild and chaotic, but somehow it all felt distant—like the world had narrowed down to just him and you, stuck in this doorway while his brothers’ voices faded into the cabin.
His eyes burned into yours, sharp and restless. “You’re gonna fucking kill me if you keep looking at me like that.”
Your chest tightened. “Like what?”
“Like last night wasn’t enough.”
The air left your lungs in a rush. Before you could even think of an answer, he was off his board and closing the space in two quick strides, his hands coming up to grab your face, thumbs dragging over your wet skin like he was starving for the feel of you.
Then his mouth crashed into yours.
The kiss wasn’t sweet. It was messy, hot, fucking desperate—like he’d been holding it back all day and the storm had cut through the leash holding him back and tore the last bit of control out of him. His lips moved against yours like he needed to devour you, desperate to erase the space between you, to pour every unsaid word into the heat of the kiss.
You melted into him instantly, fists curling in the soaked fabric of his shirt, yanking him closer until you were pressed chest-to-chest. Rain poured down, plastering you both together, water dripping down your faces,Your boards lay forgotten at your feet, abandoned in the frenzy of wanting him. He groaned into your mouth when your nails dug into his shoulders, one hand sliding back into your hair, the other gripping your jaw like he never wanted to let go.
When he finally broke for air, it was only by an inch, his forehead pressed to yours, both of you panting, rainwater dripping off your lashes. His voice was raw, low, wrecked.
“Fuck…” he breathed, lips brushing yours. “Hiding this is gonna be a fucking nightmare.”
For a second neither of you moved, clinging to the doorway like stepping inside would break whatever spell the storm had wrapped around you.
Then the muffled sound of Nick’s voice carried from deeper in the cabin—loud, complaining about being soaked—and reality slammed back in.
Chris pressed one last, fierce kiss to your mouth, quick and claiming, before pulling back. “Come on,” he said hoarsely, brushing his thumb over your cheek like he didn’t want to let go, but finally lowering his hand. “Before they notice.”
You both slipped inside, dripping trails across the wooden floor. The cabin was warm, firelight already crackling in the hearth. Nick and Matt’s voices drifted from the back room, bickering about towels. The second the door shut behind you, Chris gave you a look—sharp, smoldering, still undone by the kiss. Then he tilted his head toward the hallway.
“I’ll grab a shower,” he muttered. “You should too, before you freeze.”
You nodded, throat tight, pretending like your heart wasn’t trying to tear its way out of your chest. He disappeared down the hall, leaving the scent of rain and cedar in his wake.
Steam curled around you in the bathroom as hot water cascaded down your skin, but it did nothing to wash away the memory of his mouth on yours. Every drop seemed to drag you back—his hands gripping your jaw, his voice breaking against your name, the desperate heat that made restraint impossible. You pressed your palms to the tile holding your shaking body up, water pounding down your chest, your fingers working slow but deliberate circles on your clit, lip tucked between your teeth to stop the soft moans leaving your mouth as try to steady your breath.
On the other side of the cabin, Chris leaned against the shower wall, head tipped back, mouth open, water streaming over his body. He let out a low groan that the water swallowed. The kiss replayed in an endless loop—your laugh, the tremble in your voice when you said his name, the way your fingers had clenched at his shirt like you’d never let him go. He dragged his hand over his cock, muttering under his breath, “Fuck…”. Without knowing, completely separated by walls, your bodies moved in a rhythm you didn't even know you shared, each chasing relief from the echo of the other.
By the time you emerged, the cabin smelled like garlic and onions sizzling on the stove. Matt was manning a pan with the kind of overconfidence that suggested disaster was imminent, while Nick leaned against the counter, dramatically reading instructions off the back of a pasta box like it was Shakespeare.
“You don’t have to announce every step,” Matt snapped, waving a wooden spoon dangerously close to Nick’s face.
“I’m ensuring accountability,” Nick retorted. “Otherwise you’re gonna poison us.”
Chris appeared behind you, hair damp, clean t-shirt clinging to his frame. He caught your eye just long enough to make your stomach flip before grabbing a knife and sliding in beside Matt to chop vegetables.
The kitchen quickly devolved into chaos—Matt insisting he was a culinary genius, Nick sneaking handfuls of shredded cheese straight from the bag, Chris quietly fixing both their mistakes when they weren’t looking. You ended up at the counter stirring sauce, laughing so hard at Nick’s fake French accent you nearly spilled it.
When the food finally hit the table, it was a mess—slightly overcooked pasta, uneven garlic bread, but it tasted perfect anyway. The four of you ate crammed around the table, voices overlapping, teasing and joking until your cheeks hurt from smiling. The earlier tension had thinned, replaced with something warm and familiar, like the storm outside had been traded for firelight and laughter.
Later, once the dishes were stacked and the rain had finally ended, Matt dragged a sheet and projector out toward the lake. By the time the fire was lit, blankets and pillows scattered across the ground, and the movie flickered onto the makeshift screen, it felt like your own private theater under the night sky.
The lake shimmered just beyond the glow, dark and endless—the same place where you and Chris had tangled the night before. The memory made your chest ache in a way that wasn’t unpleasant, just unbearably tender.
Nick sprawled dramatically across a pile of pillows, arms buried in a bowl of popcorn like it was his personal kingdom. Matt manned the skewers, roasting marshmallows with far too much intensity. Chris dropped down beside you, close enough that your shoulders brushed beneath the shared blanket, firelight casting soft shadows across his face.
The movie played, laughter carrying over the crackle of the fire and the sweet smell of s’mores. But every time Chris shifted, every time his hand brushed yours under the blanket, the rest of the world blurred.
And when you dared a glance at him—eyes lit faintly by the screen, jaw soft with something he wasn’t saying—you knew he was remembering too.
The night was still. Silent except for the faint chirp of wildlife and Matt’s occasional snore. It was past 2AM, and you lay flat on your back, staring into the darkness of the sky above, the blanket pulled low but doing nothing to quiet the heat still running under your skin.
You hadn’t slept. Not really. How could you, when the memory of last night replayed in merciless detail? The glow of the fire, the smoke on his lips, the weight of Chris’s body pressing you into the blanket. The way he’d whispered your name when you came undone around his fingers. The way he’d looked at you when he was still inside you, like he was seeing something holy.
And then—earlier—the porch. That dizzying, stolen kiss in the cool air, when the world was quiet and his brothers were only steps away inside. That kiss had been different. Softer. Like a promise tucked into your mouth. Like he couldn’t bear to let you go yet, even after hours of having you.
Your thighs pressed together under the sheets, restless, your chest rising too fast for someone who was supposed to be asleep.
God, you could still feel him. Every slow thrust
Every rough snap of his hips. The rasp of his voice when he begged you to let go for him. And now, every time you blinked, you swore you could feel his mouth ghosting yours again, gentle but desperate, a secret sealed in the dark.
It was carved into you now—like your body had branded itself with his touch.
And yet, terror gnawed at the edges of the memory. Because Matt and Nick were just a few feet away. And they couldn’t know. They couldn’t even suspect. If they ever found out what you and Chris had done—what you wanted to keep doing—it would all explode.
And Chris… he wasn’t subtle. Not with the way his eyes lingered. Not with the way he’d touched your hand under the table earlier, like he’d already forgotten you were supposed to be careful.
You rolled onto your side, facing the shadowed shape of his body across from you. He hadn’t moved much either. From the rhythm of his breathing, you knew he was awake.
The sheets rustled softly. Then his voice, low, hoarse, like he’d been swallowing words for hours.
“You awake?”
Your heart stuttered. “…Yeah.”
Silence stretched, thick as smoke, before he whispered again. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”
The words hit you like a match to dry kindling. Heat bloomed everywhere, sharp and fast. You bit your lip. “Chris…”
“Don’t,” he whispered, frustrated. “Don’t say my name like that. Not when I can’t—” He cut off, the sound of him shifting under the covers carrying through the dark. “Not when I can’t touch you right now.”
Your stomach twisted. Because you wanted him to. Fuck, you wanted him so bad.
But reality was a razor. If either of his brothers woke, if they noticed the tension between your bodies—it was over. The bubble would burst. And you weren’t ready for that. Not yet.
Still, the truth slipped out before you could choke it back. “I can’t stop thinking about you either.”
You could hear his breath catch across the room. Then softer, steadier, like he was anchoring himself to your words: “Good. Because I don’t want you to.”
The ache in your chest sharpened, a pull that felt unbearable and intoxicating all at once. You buried your face in the pillow, trying to swallow down the want, the memory, the fear.
Last night. The kiss in the rain. And the way hiding it was only getting harder.
Summary: After weeks of teasing tension on tour, you and Matt share a hotel bed, and the unspoken attraction finally boils over. A heated encounter turns playful chemistry into real intimacy, ending with an emotional confession. R - Mature/Explicit 18+ (3k +words)
TW: Explicit sexual content, Graphic descriptions of sexual acts, BDSM themes (power dynamics, dominance/submission, consensual choking), Explicit language, Voyeurism/exhibitionism, Masturbation (pillow riding, jerking off), Rough sex, Emotional intimacy following explicit sexual activity
A/N: Hi I've written before but this is my first ever time posting something I've wrote so please be nice, comments and feedback are appreciated. Proof read by @thechratt-twins (The Matt Girl).
You’d been on the road with the triplets for weeks, long days, packed venues, endless inside jokes. Somewhere along the way, you and Matt had built your own rhythm: teasing each other constantly, pretending the spark between you didn’t exist.
When the guys decided to settle tonight's room situation with a game of rock-paper-scissors, you lost, or won, depending on how you looked at it. You and Matt were roommates for the night, but more than just that… you were sharing a bed.
“Don’t look too excited,” Matt teased as he disappeared into the room’s only bathroom.
The sound of running water filled the hotel room. You tried to focus on your phone, but your mind wandered, it had started doing it since the teasing had started to seem like more.
Then the door opened.
Matt stepped out with a towel hung low on his hips, water dripping from his hair and tattoos catching the dim light. You pretended to scroll through something on your screen, but your heart was beating way too fast for that to be believable.
“Cover your eyes, perv,” he said with a grin.
Rolling your eyes, you turned your head away. “Relax, superstar. No one’s trying to sneak a peek at your…”
The sound of the towel hitting the floor cut you off.
“...ego,” you finished weakly.
He laughed, slipping into grey sweatpants and climbing into the other side of the bed. “Sure thing.”
Once again you both fell into that simple rhythm, the two of you talking about the tour, about Nick’s terrible taste in snacks, about how Chris somehow always managed to lose his socks every show. It was easy. It was always easy with him. But there was something in the air tonight, quieter, heavier. His voice was softer when he spoke, his jokes lingered just a bit longer before fading into comfortable silence.
Matt leaned over you grabbing the remote, his body brushing yours making your swallow a whimper. He flicked through before stopping on a random comedy, the kind with bad jokes and fake laughter, he threw the remote aside and flopped back onto the bed beside you.
You tried to focus on the screen, but every time he laughed, your eyes flicked to him instead. His smile, those lips, the way his body moved when he laughed was all the more distracting than a movie.
After a few minutes, he caught you staring. “You’re supposed to watch the movie, not me,” he said, smirking, his hand reaching out to turn your head to the TV.
Your breath caught at his touch, pulse jumping. You knew you shouldn't read into it, Matt was always tactile with his friends, playful and easy-going. But lately, there has been a shift in his demeanor around just you. A certain heat in his gaze, a lingering energy that sent sparks through you...
"I am, shut up," you mumbled, turning your attention back to the movie. But your eyes kept darting to the side, stealing glances at his profile. The strong line of his jaw, the way his wet hair curled at the nape of his neck... Your mind conjured up images of that hair brushing against your neck as he buried his head there, hard thrusts of his cock making you scream...
The ringing of his phone startled you out of your reverie. Matt glanced at the screen and sighed, pushing himself up with a groan. "Sorry, I gotta take this. It's Nick." He rolled out of bed, stretching his lithe form in a way that made your mouth water.
You nodded mutely, biting your lip as you watched him saunter out of the room. The moment the door clicked shut behind him, you were like a woman possessed, you grabbed his pillow, breathing in his scent - sweet like cherries and something uniquely him. Your core clenched, your panties becoming soaked.
Before you knew what you were doing, you yanked your shorts and panties off and threw them to the floor, shoving his pillow between your thighs, your clit gliding against it with the perfect friction. You stifled a moan, hips rolling against his pillow as you pictured Matt under you, those blue eyes blazing with lust as he hit that perfect spot in you again and again.
You were so lost in the delicate pleasure his pillow created that you didn’t notice the quiet of Matt's footsteps on the carpet in the hallway or the soft creak of the door opening. Matt stopped in the doorway, frozen, eyes wide with disbelief as he took in the scene before him.
You threw your head back, naked form moving hypnotically, your thighs trembling with every roll of your hips, the pillow bunching under your fists. He felt his cock twitch in his pants, his pulse racing as he realized what you were doing.
With a soft groan, he palmed himself, his fingers tracing the outline of his hardening length through the fabric. The sight of you, lost in pleasure, using his pillow as a substitute for him, was the most erotic thing he’d ever witnessed. He leaned against the doorframe, his hand sliding into his sweats to grip his throbbing cock. His fingers tightened around his shaft, his breath hitching as he watched you arch your back, your moans filling the air.
You imagined it was Matt’s cock sliding into you, filling you, stretching you. You quickened your pace, your hips moving faster, falling forward, your hands clawing at the sheets. Matt matched your rhythm with his hand, stroking himself in time with your movements. The slick sounds of your arousal and his groans filled the room, a symphony of lust. His hand moved faster, his breath becoming ragged little gasps as he watched your bare skin moving against his pillow with a sensual cadence. His cock throbbed in his hand, pre-cum leaking onto his fingers as he stroked himself harder and faster. The way your hips rolled against the pillow mimicked riding him perfectly—and it was driving him wild with desire. Matt decided he’d had enough of the one person show and wanted to be more involved. With one sharp movement, he pushed off the doorframe and swung the door open.
You were so close, so fucking close, when the sound of it startled you. You froze, eyes going wide as Matt walked in, cock already hard and glistening in the low light. He took one look at you and smirked.
"What the actual fuck are you doing?" he growls, stalking closer like a predator zeroing in on its prey. "Little miss perfect fucking herself on my pillow?” His hand lunging at your throat, “Fuck that’s hot."
You whimpered, squirming where you lay as he loomed over you. "M-Matt, I... I wasn't... I mean..."
He cut off your stammered protest with a kiss, harsh and demanding, his hand tightening it’s grip. His tongue plundered your mouth, stealing your breath and replacing it with the taste of him. You melted beneath him, back arching as his hands roamed your body possessively.
"Fucking love how responsive you are," he groaned against your lips. "So eager for my touch." He wedged a knee between your thighs, pressing up against your aching core. You cried out, hips bucking into him desperately.
“Not yet princess. I want to watch you do exactly what you did before I walked in.” Matt reached over grabbing the forgotten object of your affection, in one fluid motion the pillow with the dark wet spot was in between the two of you. Wedging Matt further away from where you wanted him. To your surprise Matt slowly leaned over you to slide off the bed. This time his body movement was slower, like he knew you were watching him closer. Just as he thought, you watched his every move deliberately, waiting to see if he was genuinely upset he caught you on his pillow. He calmly walked over and sat down in the chair in the corner of the room. Your chest was rising and falling quickly as you tried not to let him see your nerves from his unstated actions. It wasn’t until his eyes flicked up to yours, cock in his hand, slowly starting to stroke himself up and down in a way that almost teased himself too that you knew what he was waiting for.
"Go on, baby. Ride my pillow like the desperate slut you are, give me a proper show."
His hand moved slowly along his shaft as he watched you intently. His expression was a mix of hunger and amusement, clearly enjoying the power he had over you. He wanted to see how far you'd go now knowing he was watching every move.
He spread his legs wider, giving you a better view of his hand working his cock. "Come on, princess. Show me how bad you want it. How bad you want me." His voice was a low growl, challenging you. You looked at him slightly confused. "Use the pillow like you were using it before. Ride it like it's my fucking dick."
He watched as you slowly reached out and grabbed the pillow, pulling it towards you. He could see the slight flush creeping up your neck and cheeks, knowing that despite the embarrassment, you were turned on. "That's it," he urged, his hand moving faster on his own erection.
As you began to grind against the pillow, he moaned softly, his eyes locked onto the sight of you riding it, not secretly. The wet spot grew larger, spreading out as you soaked the fabric with your arousal. "Fuck, look at you," he groaned.
The sight of him touching himself while watching you made you whine, your hips bucking involuntarily against the pillow beneath you. "That's it, baby. Keep going," he encouraged, his hand moving faster along his length. "Look how fucking wet you're making my pillow. Such a good girl for me."
You couldn't stop yourself, grinding harder against the fabric, chasing that release you desperately needed. Your eyes stayed locked on his hand working his cock, imagining it was him beneath you instead of the pillow. The friction was perfect, hitting your clit just right with every roll of your hips. "Matt," you whimpered, your movements becoming more frantic.
"Yeah, that's right. Say my name while you fuck my pillow," he growled, his own breathing getting heavier. "Show me how you're gonna ride my cock.
The combination of his words, the sight of him stroking himself, and the pressure against your sensitive clit pushed you closer and closer to the edge. Your thighs trembled as you ground down harder, your arousal soaking through the pillowcase completely.
"Fuck, you're so hot like this," Matt groaned, his hand moving faster. "Come on, princess. Cum for me. Let me see you fall apart."
His words were your undoing. Your orgasm crashed over you in waves, your body shaking as you cried out his name. Your hips jerked against the pillow as pleasure flooded through you, your pussy clenching around nothing.
Before you could fully come down from your high, Matt was moving. He crossed the room in two strides, his hand tangling in your hair and pulling you toward him. Your scalp tingled from the firm grip as he positioned you right in front of his hard cock.
"Open up, princess," he commanded, his voice rough with need.
Your lips parted automatically, and he didn't waste any time shoving his cock into your mouth. The taste of him flooded your senses as he pushed deeper, making you gag slightly before you adjusted. His hand tightened in your hair, controlling your movements as he began to fuck your mouth.
"That's it, take it," he groaned, his hips thrusting forward chasing his own release. "Such a good little slut for me."
But he wasn't done with the pillow yet. His free hand grabbed your hip, guiding you back down onto it. "Come on, baby, don't stop moving that sweet pussy on my pillow," he ordered, his cock still buried in your mouth. "Keep riding it while you suck my dick."
You moaned around him, the vibrations making him curse under his breath. Your hips started moving again, grinding against the soaked pillow even though you were still sensitive from your orgasm. The dual sensations of his cock in your mouth and the pressure against your clit were overwhelming.
"Fuck, yes," Matt groaned, watching you work both the pillow and his cock. "Look at you, so desperate for it. You love this, don't you? Love being my good girl huh?"
You could only whimper in response, your jaw stretched wide around him as he continued to thrust into your mouth. Tears dripped down your cheeks as he fucked your face, his grip on your hair keeping you exactly where he wanted you.
After a few more minutes of using your mouth, he suddenly pulled you off with a wet pop. Before you could catch your breath, his hand wrapped around your neck and he crashed his lips against yours in a bruising kiss. His tongue invaded your mouth, tasting himself on you as he pushed you backward onto the bed.
You whined when he removed the pillow from beneath you, missing the pressure immediately. But Matt just smirked against your lips knowing he had something you’d like more, his hand tightening slightly around your throat as he deepened the kiss.
"Don't worry, baby," he murmured against your mouth. "I'm gonna give you something so much better." His hand gripped your hips.
He began kissing and feeling his way over your body, his teeth scraping against your skin as he went. He bit down on your collarbone, then your breast, leaving marks that would definitely be visible tomorrow. You gasped and arched into him, your hands tangling in his hair.
Matt’s hands continued the path downward. When he reached your thighs, he spread them wide, biting down on the sensitive inner flesh hard enough to make you cry out, smoothing it over with his hand. His fingers ghosting over your soaked core.
"Matt, please," you begged, your hips trying to lift toward his hand.
"Please what?" he teased, biting your other thigh. "Use your words, princess."
"Please, I need you," you whimpered.
"Stay still," he ordered, his grip on your hips tightening. "Let me feel how wet you are for me."
His fingers dragged through your folds, gathering your arousal. You tried to obey, but it was nearly impossible when he circled your clit with his thumb, his other fingers teasing your entrance.
"Fuck, you're soaked," he groaned, sliding two fingers inside you without warning. You cried out at the intrusion, your back arching off the bed as he immediately curled them to hit that perfect spot inside you.
"Fuck Matt, I'm gonna—" you couldn't even finish the sentence as he began pumping his fingers in and out, his thumb still working your clit in tight circles. He added a third finger, stretching you tenderly as he fucked you with his hand.
"That's it, princess. Cum on my fingers," he commanded, his pace relentless. "Let me feel this tight pussy squeeze me."
Your second orgasm crashed over you hard, your thighs trying to close but his hand on your hip kept them spread wide as he worked you through it. His fingers didn't let up until you were shaking and oversensitive, your pussy clenching around them.
"Fuck, you taste so good," he said, his eyes dark with lust.
Before you could respond, he was kissing his way back up your body, leaving more bites and marks along the way. When he reached your neck, he bit down hard on the sensitive skin there, making you gasp. At the same time, you felt the head of his cock pressing against your entrance.
"Ready for me, baby?" he asked, his voice strained with the effort of holding back.
"Yes," you gasped. "Please, Matt, I need you inside me."
He pushed in slowly, inch by inch, stretching you even more than his fingers had. The burn was intense but inviting, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, trying to pull him deeper.
"Fuck, you're so tight," Matt groaned, his forehead pressed against yours as he bottomed out inside you. "Feel so fucking good wrapped around my cock."
He gave you a moment to adjust before he started moving, pulling almost all the way out before thrusting back in hard. The angle was perfect, hitting that spot inside you that made you see stars with every thrust.
"Matt," you moaned, your nails digging into his shoulders. "Fuck, you feel so good. So deep."
"Yeah?" he asked, his pace increasing. "You like feeling my cock deep inside you? Like being stretched around me?"
"Yes," you gasped, your head falling back against the pillow. "Love it. Love your cock."
He fucked you harder, his hand coming up to wrap around your throat again as he watched your face contort in pleasure. "Look at me," he demanded. "Want to see those pretty eyes while I fuck you."
You forced your eyes open, meeting his intense gaze. The intimacy of it combined with the rough way he was taking you made your head spin. His thumb pressed against your pulse point, feeling how fast your heart was racing.
"That's it," he groaned, his pace becoming brutal. "Take my cock like a good girl. Let me hear you scream my name."
The pressure on your throat, the way he was pounding into you, the intensity in his eyes—it was all too much. You could feel another orgasm building, impossibly soon after the last one.
"Matt, I'm gonna—" you tried to warn him, but he cut you off with a hard thrust that made you cry out.
"Not yet," he commanded, his grip on your throat tightening slightly. "You don't cum until I say so. Understand?"
You whimpered, your body trembling with the effort of holding back. It was torture, being so close but not being allowed to fall over the edge. Every thrust pushed you closer, making it harder to obey.
"Please," you begged, tears forming in your eyes from the intensity. "Please, Matt, I need to cum. I can't hold it."
"Yes you can," he said firmly, though his own breathing was ragged. "Be my good girl and wait for me."
He fucked you harder, deeper, his cock hitting that perfect spot with every thrust. Your pussy clenched around him, trying to pull him deeper, and you could feel him throbbing inside you.
"Fuck, you feel so good," Matt groaned, his rhythm starting to falter. "So tight and wet. Gonna make me cum, baby."
"Please," you whimpered again. "Please let me cum. I need it so bad."
"Alright, princess," he said, his hand moving from your throat to your clit, rubbing tight circles. "Cum all over my cock."
With his permission granted, your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave. Your pussy clenched around him rhythmically as pleasure flooded through you, so intense you saw stars. You screamed his name, your nails raking down his back as your body shook beneath him.
Matt fucked you through it, prolonging your pleasure until you were oversensitive and trembling. When you finally came down, he was still hard inside you, still moving with that same relentless pace.
"Matt," you whimpered, overstimulated but not wanting him to stop.
"I know, baby," he soothed, pressing kisses to your face. "Just a little more. You can take it."
After several minutes of the relentless pace, he suddenly pulled out, making you whine at the loss. "Get on top," he ordered, flipping onto his back. "Go on, baby, ride me like you did my pillow."
You scrambled to straddle him, sinking down onto his cock with a moan. Your thighs were already shaking from exhaustion, but you started to move, rolling your hips the same way you had on the pillow.
"That's it," Matt encouraged, his hands gripping your hips. "Fuck, you look so good riding my cock. So much better than the pillow, isn't it?"
"So much better," you agreed breathlessly, your pace quickening. You braced your hands on his chest, using the leverage to bounce on him harder.
But after a few minutes, your legs were burning and your movements became sloppy. Matt noticed immediately, his grip on your hips tightening. "Getting tired, baby? Let me help you."
He planted his feet on the bed and began thrusting up into you hard, taking over completely. The new angle had you crying out, your body going limp as he fucked up into you relentlessly. His cock hit deep, so deep you could feel him in your stomach.
"Matt, fuck, I can't—" you gasped, overwhelmed by the sensation.
"Yes you can," he growled, flipping you over suddenly so you were on your back again. He hooked your legs over his shoulders, folding you nearly in half as he began to pound into you even harder than before.
The new position had him hitting impossibly deep, and you could feel another orgasm building despite how sensitive you were. His hand found your clit, rubbing tight circles that had you screaming his name again.
"Gonna cum inside this tight pussy," Matt groaned, his rhythm becoming erratic. "Gonna fill you up so good, princess. You want that? Want me to cum inside you?"
"Please," you begged, your nails raking down his arms. "Please, Matt, I need it."
A few more hard thrusts and he was groaning your name, his cock pulsing as he came deep inside you. The feeling of him filling you triggered your own orgasm, your pussy clenching around him as waves of pleasure washed over you.
Matt collapsed on top of you, both of you breathing hard and covered in sweat. After a moment, he carefully pulled out and rolled to the side, immediately pulling you into his arms.
You curled into his chest, your body still trembling with aftershocks. His hand ran up and down your back soothingly as you both came down from the high.
"That was..." you started, not even sure how to finish the sentence.
"Yeah," Matt agreed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "That was fucking incredible."
You lay in comfortable silence for a few minutes before Matt spoke again, his voice softer than before. "So... we should probably talk about this."
Your heart skipped a beat. "Talk about what?"
"About us," he said, tilting your chin up so you were looking at him. "Because I don't want this to be just a one-time thing. I don't want to go back to just being friends after this."
"You don't?" you asked, hope blooming in your chest.
"No," he said firmly. "I've wanted you for so long, and now that I've had you, I'm not letting you go. If you want this too, I mean, want to be more than friends."
A smile spread across your face. "I want that. I've wanted that for a while now, actually."
"Yeah?" Matt grinned, looking relieved. "Good. Because I'm pretty sure Chris and Nick are going to lose their minds when they find out, but I don't care. You're mine now."
"Yours," you agreed, snuggling closer to him.
He kissed you softly, so different from the rough, demanding kisses from earlier. This one was tender, full of promise for what was to come.
"We should probably clean up," you murmured against his lips, feeling his cum starting to leak out of you.
"In a minute," Matt said, tightening his arms around you. "Just want to hold you for a bit longer."
You didn't argue, content to stay wrapped up in his arms, feeling safe and wanted and completely satisfied.
A/N: I will be starting a tag list let me know if you want to be added!.
Taglist: @thechratt-twins @rolling-river
For now some attention tags: (Will remove tag just ask)
Hey guys I'm so sorry I ended up taking a break from Tumblr, work has been crazy and me and my boyfriend went to his home state to see his family for fall so I'm so sorry everything has been so chaotic but part 4 of Surgency is finished and I plan on posting ASAP if you guys still want it??❤️🔥
Me and my boyfriend just got back from vacation, so I'm going to finish what i can within the next 2 days. All i have left to do is find pictures and add trigger warnings, which won't be much for this chapter.❤️🔥
I swear ur account is the only place not involved in drama, and I appreciate that tumblr is my quiet place, and it's becoming a place where I'm scared to post or even make friends
I don't do drama
I've seen everything going on and it just has my head swirling and has me feeling scared about being on this app. The only people I speak to on here are ones of people I know in real life because then I know i'm safe and not being hurt.
All i can say is be so fucking careful and know my account is always a safe space for any and all of you.
I myself have had some very mean asks that i choose to ignore some about my writing, some because I'm a boy and many more all I've realised is tumblr is a very cruel place and we need to be there for eachother in this fandom.
I have no idea i originally planned around 20 but i have no much for it i'm not sure anymore but i promise when it picks up it will keep you coming back for more!!!!!
Hey guys Part 4 of Surgency is finished but..... its 3,390 words..... and as much as i prefer longer fics i'm not sure if you guys will so can people let me know please. Even if you've never read any of the other parts would you read a part that 3,390 words or shall i split it into 2 parts. I just feel like it's being dragged out to long and people will lose interest🔥❤️
How are people feeling about Surgency?!?!? Do you want a part 4?!?🔥❤️
Part 4?!? 🔥❤️
OMFG YES DUH!!!!❤️
No thanks!!🥱
Voting ended onSep 27, 2025
All Surgency Parts❤️🔥
Little account explination⬇️
As you can probably tell by now Surgency will be a many part series, im not entirely sure how many parts yet but i have many ideas for it. There will be comedy, angst, emotion, confusion, slight fear, love and of course ALOT of smut. Its not set to a posting time line i post my parts when they are finished and i am happy with them, i want nothing but the best for all of you.
In between writing Surgency i will be posting stuff for Matt and Nick aswell, not any series for them will be posted (well not yet) but there will be one shots or 2 part fics for them aswell and of course maybe some one shots for Chris inbetween to.
Anyway just thought id give you guys an insight to what i will be doing and to let you know even though i do not post all the time or alot i do have so much planned and written.
(You may also notice that i have a link in my masterlist that says "rivers random rites", aswell as fics i do write poetry and short writing pieces, some may be to deep to post here but im not sure yet, of course there will be trigger warnings anyway but im still on the fence if this account is where i will post them so let me know if you want to see them.)
I love all of you so much and i hope you are enjoying or enjoyed what i have posted so far❤️❤️
Summary: Secrets. Waking up wrapped in each other. Comfort in the closeness. Unspoken tension. Shared glances that speak volumes. Chris still jokes and flirts, but there's sincerity beneath it now—he doesn’t want to keep you a secret forever. Nick, who suspects something but doesn’t have proof because you and Chris maintain the act, but the quiet exchanges between you—knees bumping, knowing smiles—will it reveal everything?
TW: Implied sexual content (non-explicit but clearly alluded to) Secrecy / hidden relationship (could be sensitive for readers with past experiences around secrecy or emotional concealment) Emotional tension, anxiety, mild profanity / adult language Rated - Teen and Up Audiences (T)
A/N: This is part 3!! I hope you guys like this one as much as the other MY FIRST one done entirely alone as I did have my friend edit a couple things in my other 2 find but all I needed her to do on this was the colored titled lmao
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
It should have felt awkward—waking up tangled in each other, skin still warm from the night before, clothes gone and the world slowly creeping back in—but it didn’t. Not with the way Chris’s arms were still wrapped around you like you belonged there. Not with the soft way his thumb brushed back and forth over your hip, like he wasn’t fully awake but needed to keep touching you anyway.
You stirred slightly, shifting to look up at him. His eyes opened just a crack—drowsy, a little unfocused, but he smiled when he saw you.
“Hey,” he murmured, voice hoarse with sleep.
“Hey,” you whispered back, returning the smile despite the tight knot forming in your stomach.
Because as sweet and perfect as this felt, you knew what came next. You both did.
They’d be looking for you.
Chris let out a low sigh, his smile fading just enough to show he was already thinking the same thing. “We should probably get dressed before Matt or Nick come stomping down here like we’ve gone missing.”
You gave a half-hearted groan and buried your face briefly into his bare shoulder. “Can we just... not? Like, can we stay here forever and pretend time doesn’t exist?”
He chuckled, voice still rough from sleep, and squeezed your hip. “Tempting. But unless you want to explain to Nick why I’m shirtless and your hair looks like... that,” he teased, nudging your tangled strands, “we should probably start moving.”
You laughed, hiding your face in your hands. “Oh god, I didn’t even think about my hair.”
“Trust me,” he said, stretching and rolling to sit upright, “if it makes you feel any better... I’m just as wrecked.”
You looked over your shoulder at him as you pulled on your tshirt, eyes scanning the hickeys just above his collarbone. “You’re definitely gonna need to hide those.”
He looked down, smirked. “Badge of honor.”
“More like a glowing neon sign.”
Chris tossed you a playful glare. “You saying I should’ve stopped you?”
You grinned. “Not for a second.”
Neither of you said much for a moment after that. The silence wasn’t heavy, exactly—just careful. Thoughtful. His eyes kept flicking toward you as you tugged your shirt back over your head, and yours lingered on the bruises blooming gently along his neck, the faint red marks on his shoulders.
Evidence.
You both looked... ruined. In the best way.
But no one could know that.
Chris ran a hand through his hair, trying to flatten it, though it still stuck up in all directions. You glanced at him, watching the tension settle over his shoulders as he knelt to shove his belt back through the loops of his jeans.
“Do I look like I just had the best night of my life?” he asked, flashing you a quick, tired grin.
You bit your lip, warmth blooming in your cheeks. “You look... guilty.”
He laughed softly, then sobered again. “I don’t want to hide this. Us.”
“I know,” you said quietly, meeting his eyes. “But for now…”
“For now,” he echoed, nodding once. His gaze searched your face like he was trying to memorize every detail. “You okay with that?”
You hesitated for just a second, then stepped closer, reaching for his hand. “If it means keeping this just ours for a little longer? Yeah. I’m okay with that.”
Chris exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing as he brought your hand to his lips and kissed your knuckles. “You’re too good to me.”
You smiled. “Just don’t forget this moment the next time your brothers drag you into a wrestling match over who does dishes and i get put in the middle of it”
He snorted. “Yeah, I’m definitely gonna be the calm one in the room today.”
He leaned down to press a brief kiss to your forehead. “Come on. If we take too long, Nick’s gonna start asking questions he shouldn’t.”
You both laughed quietly at that, then began making your way up the trail toward the cabin.
The air shifted around you as the trees gave way to sunlight. Everything looked normal again—almost boring. Birds in the trees. The faint sound of a radio crackling through an open cabin window. Matt’s voice drifting through the air, already arguing about what to make for breakfast.
It was like the world had no idea what happened last night.
And that made it feel even more intimate.
Chris’s hand brushed yours once as you walked, a touch so subtle it could’ve been accidental. But you felt it. And when you glanced at him, he was already looking at you.
“You know,” he murmured, just low enough for only you to hear, “I’m still not over the way you said my name last night.”
Your breath caught in your throat, heat returning to your cheeks. “Chris.”
“There it is,” he teased gently, grin widening. “Say it again and I’m gonna have to drag you back into the woods.”
“You’re impossible.”
“And you’re glowing,” he said with a wink. “Don’t think I didn’t notice.”
You shoved him lightly with your shoulder, but your heart was still thudding in your chest. Everything about this moment felt fragile and real and entirely yours.
No one would know.
Except the two of you.
And somehow, that made it even better.
Chris pushed open the screen door to the cabin and held it for you, the cabin smelled like pancakes and maple syrup, warm and sweet and a little bit like home.
When you stepped inside, the kitchen was already alive—Matt flipping something on the stove with the confidence of someone who knew what he was doing, and Nick sitting cross-legged on the counter eating a banana like it was a personal performance.
“And where have you two been, it's 10AM” Nick said around a mouthful, looking at his invisible watch. “Let me guess—you stayed out to admire the sunrise? Whispered secrets to a squirrel? Got lost in each other’s eyes?”
Chris didn’t even blink. “We were smoking and talking, we told you before we left.”
Nick shrugged. “Details.”
You slipped past him and slid into one of the chairs at the small table, the wood cool against your thighs. Chris followed, dropping into the seat beside you with a soft grunt and stretching his arms behind his head. His hair still stuck up a little in the back, and it made you bite your lip to keep from smiling.
Matt turned from the stove with a plate piled high. “No one touch anything until you thank the chef,” he said, setting it on the table with the reverence of a man placing down holy offerings.
“Thank you, Chef,” you said dutifully.
Nick clapped once, then gestured dramatically. “We live and die by your spatula.”
Matt smirked. “Damn right you do.”
Chris reached for the pancakes and started serving up, sliding one onto your plate without even asking. You didn’t say anything, but you nudged his foot under the table in quiet thanks.
Nick immediately narrowed his eyes. “What was that?”
“What?” you said innocently.
“That weird foot thing you just did.”
Chris raised an eyebrow. “Maybe we both just have long legs, man.”
“Uh-huh.” Nick pointed his fork between the two of you. “I’ve got my eye on this vibe.”
Matt poured himself a coffee and sat across from you. “Nick, please stop saying the word vibe before 9 a.m.”
“I will not be silenced,” Nick said, dramatically flopping sideways against the fridge like he was in a soap opera.
“Pancake?” Chris offered, deadpan, holding a forkful in Nick’s direction.
Nick took it. “Thank you. I’m fragile.”
The table settled into an easy rhythm after that—passing syrup, fighting over the last pat of butter, Nick making dramatic faces every time Matt used words like “fold” or “whisk.” You caught Chris’s eye once when Nick loudly claimed he was the real talent in the kitchen, and the smile that flickered between you said everything that didn’t need to be spoken.
It was quiet. Easy. Safe.
At some point, Chris leaned back in his chair, arms folded behind his head again, plate wiped clean. “Best pancakes you’ve made all trip.”
Matt looked pleased. “Finally getting the ratio right.”
“Ratio of what?” Nick asked, licking syrup off his fingers. “Black magic and love?”
“Pretty much,” Matt said, sipping his coffee.
You leaned forward, spearing the last piece on your plate. “I swear, if I ever try to make pancakes at home again, they’re gonna taste like sadness.”
Chris smirked, eyes flicking toward you. “You could just keep me around. I’m pretty great at supervising.”
“Oh yeah?” you asked, trying to keep your tone casual.
“Excellent at pointing out when the pan’s too hot,” he said. “Top-tier syrup pourer.”
“World-class backseat cooker,” Matt muttered.
“I’m a man of many talents,” Chris said, tossing a piece of fruit into his mouth.
Nick raised a hand. “Add ‘humble’ to the list.”
You snorted, and Chris bumped your knee under the table.
Everything about the moment was completely ordinary.
And somehow, that made it perfect.
Soooooo Part 4 ?!?!? let me know🫶🏻🔥
Tag List: @thechratt-twins @courta13 @pip4444chris
Random attention tags: (Will remove tag if you don't want to be just lmk)
HEY GUYS ITS ME!! Anon Friend I am on the account and doing the edits RIGHT NOW! Part 3 sooner than you think <3 (P.S dont be upset with River cause he didn't post yet It's totes my fault!)
That for real means so much I've never actually wrote and posted anything before this series I've had ideas and rough drafts but this is my first and it means so much for u to say that ❤️
