I’ll Take You On
Matt Dierkes x Musician!Fem!Reader
A/N: A little one shot based off a thought I had the other day. I cleaned it up and included it in the fic. Also, tysm to @exitwoundsx for matching my freak and sharing her Matt thoughts with me to make this!
Summary: Matt physically defends you from a nasty group of men at your impromptu meet and greet. The sight turns you on, and he notices. He can’t help but give you exactly what you want.
Content and Warnings: Some sfw and smut 18+, physical altercation, sexting, masturbation, use of “daddy”, oral (receiving), fingering, raw p in v, creampie, Matt being insufferable ofc
Word Count: 2.4k
You’re touring with your band alongside Bad Omens. After a show one night, you decide to stay outside behind the venue to talk with fans and take pictures.
Matt happens to be off to the side watching you laugh and smile with a bunch of people wearing your merch. He’s so proud of you and he loves the way you throw your head back in laughter at some of the things fans say to you, but he would never admit that.
It’s fun for everyone until a small group of guys approach you. You’re sweet to them, as always, believing they just wanted a pictures, but they start to flirt, get handsy, and they won’t let go of your wrist.
Matt watches you grow more uncomfortable and rushes to you after he hears, “We paid so much money to be here, you could at least give us your number… or a good time,” come out of one of the guys mouths.
“The fuck did you just say? Get the fuck away from her before I beat your fucking ass,” Matt asserts.
You step back in surprise and watch as Matt shoves the loser in the chest causing the him to stumble against his friends. The guy’s friends push Matt back until he loses it and starts throwing punches to their cheekbones.
Honestly, it turns you on watching him fight for you, but your thrills aren’t worth him getting arrested.
“Matty, c’mon!” You put your hands on his shoulders to pull him out. He finds your face and sees you’re okay before backing out of the fight with you. He wraps his arm around your waist, leading you onto your tour bus.
“Damn, Matt, you’re like my own personal bodyguard,” you laugh, coming down from your adrenaline rush.
Matt shows off by flexing his biceps for you, “Anything for you, Y/N. Just say the word. I haven’t got to use these in a hot minute.”
Fuck, your eyes get wide and you look away to hide the hot blush that creeps up your neck to your cheeks.
“Welp, goodnight, Matty,” you rush to the back of the bus to get ready for bed.
“Don’t call me that,” he points at you before heading toward the door.
A feeling causes him to stop in his tracks and linger. He turns to you and catches the moment you pull your pants down your legs thinking he’s already left.
Blood rushes to his cock and he saves the view of your thighs and ass for later. Matt leaves quietly with you none the wiser.
—
Later that night in your bunk, you’re unable to sleep and your phone buzzes in your hand as you scroll through Twitter.
Matt’s name pops up at the top of your screen with the message, Attachment: 1 Image.
Excited at the thought of talking with him after tonight, you quickly open his message and are met with a surprise.
I thought you might appreciate this, Matt texts.
A selfie. Him, shirtless, in his underwear in the mirror of the Bad Omens tour bus… flexing his biceps and chest just for you. Matt’s dark eyes make direct contact with the camera.
Your eyes trail down his chest to his groin and you can’t but zoom in to the prominent dick print in his gray underwear.
You startle when he sends another text, almost right away.
See you in the morning.
Oh, fuck, you think.
You lie there in bed for what feels like an eternity just thinking about why he sent this to you.
Do you compliment him? Should you send him something back? Is he mocking you for ogling him earlier? Is he already asleep and it didn’t matter what you did, anyway?
You calm yourself before peaking out of the curtain of your bunk to check on the rest of your band. The coast is clear as everyone is fast asleep.
Facing your phone camera to your chest, you adjust the neckline of your tank top to expose the tops of your breasts and push them in as much as possible with your biceps. The flash of your phone goes off and you're left with a glorious picture of your cleavage.
You send him the picture immediately, knowing you’d back out of it if you thought about it anymore.
Your chest is so hot. Do you like mine? You text.
You wait… and wait. Your breath hitches when the three dots pop up on your screen to signify him responding.
Take it off, and then I’ll let you know, he texts.
You bite your lip and your hand mindlessly makes it to your nipple to roll it in between your fingers.
Fuck it.
You clumsily sit up in your bunk to pull your tank off of your torso. With your tits now bare and nipples peaking from the bus’ chilled air conditioning, you lie back down and ready your camera again.
You hit send.
You follow directions well, huh? Nice tits, he sends back.
He sends you two other photos.
The first one is a picture of him in his bunk, still in his underwear, but with his hand wrapping tight around his clothed, hard shaft. The second is a photo of the same hand underneath the front of his underwear grabbing himself.
You liked that I stuck up for you earlier tonight. Couldn’t keep your eyes off of me, Matt messages.
You throw your phone to the side and yank your pajama shorts down to your ankles. Your hands trail down your chest to your pubic mound as you spread your legs. Your fingers press languid circles on your clit over your panties. You point your phone at your fingers dipping underneath to your clit and the photo captures the prominent wet spot forming on your underwear.
Perfect.
Mhm, thank you for protecting my pussy from those scary boys. Very Daddy of you, you teasingly send with your photo.
You wait some more, slightly proud of yourself that he might be writhing in his bed fifty feet away from you.
You gulp at his next response.
A video. The thumbnail is his cock in his right hand and his cotton briefs pulled down just enough for his dick to be released.
You press play and the video overtakes the surface of your screen. Matt’s pink tip is slick with his arousal. He strokes himself and with every stroke, his precum makes a clicking sound in his hand.
“Y/N, oh, fuck,” he moans, “That pussy is fucking mine.”
You’re bold for moaning my name out loud, you text back.
Nobody’s here. They got a hotel for the night and I’m watching the bus. Come over, he responds.
Should you? You think.
Now, he sends it right after.
You leave the rest of your clothes in your bed, get down from your bunk, and grab your silk robe that hangs on the bathroom door.
You tiptoe through the bus to not wake the others and you put on your slippers before rushing out into the alleyway.
It was a short wait at the Bad Omens’ tour bus door. Matt opened it for you and pulled you in quickly before pulling the door closed and locking it.
You two stood in their tour bus in silence in front of one another; both of you vulnerable in just a simple garment. His boxer briefs and your robe.
Matt steps toward you and puts his hand on the back of your neck, pulling you into your first kiss with him. He’s rough, but you gradually meet his pace. He pokes his tongue through your lips to test the water and you meet his tongue amicably. You step forward between his legs and grind on this thigh that’s between yours.
“Why have you never said you liked me?” You ask in between kisses.
“Who says I like you?” He groans.
Matt’s hands explore your body for the first time. They travel under the curve of your ass, down your back, to your hips and breasts, again, and again. Until his hands come to the front of your robe to undo its bow tie.
He pulls away to watch your robe fall off your shoulders into a puddle on the floor.
“So fucking pretty,” he whispers before falling to his knees in front of you. He switches his hat backward before dipping his face to your core. “You keep it wet just for me?”
That stupid hat is still on, you think, you hate to admit that you loved that quirk about him.
Matt lifts your leg over his shoulder and you grab his head for balance.
“Matt, oh, God!” You throw your head back and moan.
He attaches his lips to your clit; he sucks and also takes the time to give your clit meticulous circles with his tongue. His open hand is brought to your pussy lips, rubbing your arousal around before dipping into your cunt with two fingers. You adjust to them quickly and he uses a come hither motion while pumping in and out of you.
The sound of your moans and pussy squelching fills the dark, empty bus. You attempt to grind on his face, but he holds your hips in place.
He looks up at you through his eyelashes. “Don’t drip on my floors, Y/N,” he asserts.
“Matt,” you moaned his name with furrowed brows. You despised how much you liked him, yet all you wanted was to follow his instructions.
Suddenly, Matt pulls away and stands. You whine from being left empty and he silences you with a kiss. His hands attach themselves to your hips and gradually push you to the black leather couch on the side of the bus.
You sit and are met with the sight of the tent made by Matt's hard cock in his briefs.
“I would have you suck me off but, what I want…” he brings his waistband down and his dick springs out, “Is to fuck you until I’m all you can think about.”
You nod, “I want you so bad.”
“Good,” he smiles. He leans over and presses you onto the couch with a passionate kiss. Matt folds your legs to your chest and holds your thighs down with his hands.
Matt rubs his cock in between your folds repeatedly, only slightly entering his tip into your hole with each pass.
“Matt, no more teasing,” you breathe out.
“What did you call me earlier, Y/N?” He tilts his head tauntingly.
“What?” You ask, dizzy from his hard tip passing back and forth over your clit.
Oh, you think, Fuck him.
“Tell me who’s pussy this is,” He commands.
You moan before responding, “Yours, Daddy.”
How did you find yourself in this situation? You think.
“Good girl,” he smiles while pressing his length into you. With the position you’re in, he takes long, balls-deep strokes, but not as fast as you would like.
“Fuck me, please,” you moan.
“Oh? You want more?” He taunts, again.
“Yes, please,” you whine. “I need your cock, Daddy,”
He grants your wish and presses your legs deeper into your breasts while continuing with faster thrusts. The sound of his hips slapping your cunt bounces off the walls of the bus.
You chant “please” and “thank you” and “fuck”, so much that your throat becomes dry.
“This pussy is mine, all mine,” Matt moans. “No other man is fortunate enough to have you.”
You recall earlier that night when he fought the group of men that were tormenting you. Slowly, you realize that his actions were not him being chivalrous, but that he just wanted you all to himself.
Tears well up in your eyes at how good his cock feels against your walls. His tip hits the most perfect spot inside each time he plunges into you.
“I want you to cum so badly, Daddy, please keep going,” you cry.
Matt pauses and gives you a dark look. He allows his cock to exit before asking, “Where should my cum go?”
You smile up at him and pat the entrance to your pussy with your open hand, “Here.”
He smiles proudly and your heart melts as his eyes’ crow’s feet show in the moonlight.
He presses into you again and continues to please you, happily. The squelching of his cock pressing your arousal into your cunt gets louder and you realize your time to cum is near, too.
“Cum on my dick, Y/N,” Matt notices, too.
“Ooo, yes, Daddy,” you moan while making direct eye contact with him. The rush of your orgasm flows over you and mentally you thank him for his cock in ecstasy.
With you, he spills his full load into your pussy. He writhes and yells out your name with his release.
You feel the heat from his cum gradually overtaking your insides. You whine when he finally withdraws from you and watch as he gives a few last pumps to his cock to get every last drop of his cum onto your weeping hole.
“Hold still,” he turns his hat back to its regular position and quickly goes toward his bunk. You lie there on your back with his cum deep inside of you.
He returns soon after with his phone in his hand. He stands in front of you with his phone pointed at your used pussy.
Realizing his plan, you bite your lip and push out as much of his load out of you. You hear it drip onto the polished hardwood of the bus.
Matt, with wide eyes, snaps a flash photo of your creampie.
“So fucking cute,” he grunts. “But, God, damn it, I told you not to drip on my floors,” he laughs.
“Oh, fuck off, Matty,” you blush and close your legs.
—
The afternoon after your late-night tryst with Matt, your band is performing a sound check for that night’s show.
Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you stop playing your guitar to answer it.
Again, it was a text, from Matt.
Attachment: 1 Image.
You open it mindlessly, but immediately hug your phone to your chest after reading his message.
It was the photo of your filled, sopping cunt. His cum oozing out of your hole.
He texts you, Missing this. Let’s do it again soon.
Your phone buzzes again, Also, you sound great. Or is that just me being great at what I do?
You look up from your phone over to the sound deck across the floor.
Matt smirks teasingly with his phone in his hand.
You give him an annoyed look and roll your eyes.
He sends one last message, I meant in bed by the way. When you're moaning on my dick :-)