summary: matt wakes up with messy but reader finds it sexy. a/n: sorry i'm so inactive now i literally have no motivation or ideas. kinda hate this im not going to lie. t/w: suggestive, foreplay pretty much it
The morning sun beamed through the curtains lighting up your room, making it golden, you and matt lay tangled up in each other matts head in the crook of your neck his arm around your waist. Matt awakes stretching before opening his eyes to see you looking in his direction a tired look in your stare. "good mornin' sweetheart" Matt grumbles kissing you on the cheek. you smile asking him how he slept.
"I slept good" Matt replies lifting a hand to quickly fix his hair when you grab his wrist he looks up at you his brows furrowing and his head tilting to the side in confusion.
"your hair looks sexy like this leave it, please" you state hesitating before saying please, tilting your head to the side, copying his actions, and softening your eyes. He sighs dropping his hand onto your thigh.
Matt moves closer and with every centimeter he moves so does his hand, closer and closer to the warmth between them. his hand hovers above where you need him the most, your breath hitches when his hands finally touch you.
You gasp your eyes widening, matt smirks "you like my hair like this baby?" he whispers. you hum whimpering at his touch. Matt chuckles his free hand grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you in for a kiss.
He deepens the kiss tilting your head to the side, slipping his tongue into your mouth fighting with yours. your hands moves to his hair gripping it tightly, he groans into your mouth pulling away for a second, "you can mess up my hair even more if it means i get this." he mutters before slamming his lips back on yours.
chris after he sees you wearing matt’s hockey jersey…
warnings: the whole blurb is just smut and degradation so do with that what you will:)
“mm-fuck. y’ like this, huh?” y’think this is funny?” chris says, his cock slamming in and out of you at a rapid pace.
you thought it would be a silly little joke to wear a jersey with matt’s number on it to a game, well clearly chris didn’t get the joke.
his cock is beating you, stretching you out like it never had before. your hole is numb with pain at this point, orgasm after crashing over you.
“chris, ‘s too much, ‘m sorry, please-”
“you dirty whore, wearing my brothers jersey to a hockey game, that’s unacceptable.” chris grunts, ramming his cock into you like there’s no tomorrow.
it hurt so good, you could feel his hatred and anger seeping out of him as he ruthlessly pounded into you.
you feel a sharp sting on your ass, then you feel chris’ hands return to your waist, gripping you tight enough to leave nasty purple bruises as reminders of your mistake.
“chris, please-i cant no more, ‘s too much!” you cry.
chris ignores you, picking up the pace with his thrusts as he mercilessly fucks your pussy, his tip kissing your cervix with each thrust.
“s-say your sorry, don’t let it happen again.” chris demands, his hand grabbing your neck, forcing you to look up at him.
“i won’t, i promise!” you whine, nearing another climax.
“good. now, who’s the better brother?”
“you, chris!”
that’s all you both needed. his assertive dominance pushed you over the edge while your submissive whining made him climax.
you look in the bathroom mirror. you have red hand prints all over your ass, you have marks on your hips from the force of chris’ grip, and you have hickeys all over your neck and chest.
“chris, i look like an absolute wreck.”
“well now you know who you belong to, sweetheart.”
sypnosis: in where you contact your paranormal investigator boyfriend who isn't over your death.
tw: death, language, violence, MAJOR angst, fem!reader
"WHAT'S UP GUYS, IT'S SAM AND COLBY!" You hear Colby speak across the room, reciting their intro for their Youtube video.
How many times have you heard them say that same intro again? You haven't been keeping count. You've only been tagging along with them at dozens of haunted locations for the past 12 months—
That's when reality struck you again.
"Oh yeah, I've been dead for twelve months now," you chuckle.
It's been a year since you've passed away from a car accident. And since then, you've been attached to your boyfriend and your boyfriend's best friend who indulges in the paranormal.
Naturally, you found it very difficult to accept. Imagine, you lost your life, which was filled with the most valuable memories and connections you tried your hardest to keep, and it was all gone in the blink of an eye.
It was difficult to think about. It was unbelievable; unimaginable.
Before you knew it, you found yourself at the hospital. Everything before that was a blur.
You tried to get some of the nurses' attention, yet to no avail.
You tap the shoulder of a male doctor, yet, he ignored you.
"Excuse me? Hello—" you start to mentally insult the man, until a certain blonde haired boy caught your eye.
Sam sat on a bench that was outside one of the rooms, his eyes were bloodshot red, and his faced flushed the same color.
Beside him was another boy with dark hair, his hands covering his face. That was his best friend, also your friend, Colby.
You ran towards them, trying to catch their attention.
To make them look at you. To get them explain everything to you. Anything.
"Sammy!" You called his name before you took a seat next to him at the edge of the bench.
"Sam!"
"Colby!" You poke out your head to face the other boy.
Both of them ignored you.
You start to get irritated as you run your hands through your hair, threatening to pull the strands out. Why isn't anyone talking to you?
Your patience was about to snap. You reach your hand out to grab Sam's blonde hair.
Lo and behold, it passes through his head.
You stand up, startled. "What the hell?!"
You cover your mouth with the same hand.
"Sir," a voiced called to Sam. “Time of death: 10:11 PM."
You and the other two snap your heads at the voice of the doctor.
More tears flow down Sam's eyes like he hasn't shed enough.
"No way..." you hear his voice crack.
Colby wraps an arm around his best friend, doing his best to comfort him and himself. He needed to be strong for him; He was the shoulder Sam could cry on.
"I'm very sorry for your loss." The doctor smoothes his coat before he walks away with his head down in pity and guilt he somehow felt.
Regardless, you still had doubts. You still had a thought at the back of your mind that this could just be a prank. You had a gut feeling, but you knew all too well to never trust it.
You walk towards the room, and just before you could walk through the door frame, your legs give up at the scene in front of you.
You saw your own pale face, and blood soaked clothes. Your body rested on the hospital bed. Many doctors and nurses around you with a downcast look on their faces.
It was definitely you. It was undoubtedly you.
You felt your soul separate from your body.
That was the day you died.
You shake your head, realizing you zoned out. Who knew ghosts still had the ability to zone out too?
"And today, we are at the haunted location of—" Sam says with his utmost excitement and enthusiasm to the camera. He appeared content. Keyword: appeared. His face and hair were neatly groomed, and he held a charming smile. His blonde hair glowed with a golden hue that shone despite the surrounding darkness of the haunted location. He resembled the Sun, amidst the vast vacuum of the universe, endlessly radiating, providing warmth and light to those in need who scatter and reflect them in return. Notwithstanding that, if you peered closely enough into those sea-blue eyes, you could see your own face burned in the orbs, beneath the sadness he so tried to conceal.
You knew he blamed himself.
He felt liable for your demise. He thought he could've, should've done something. If he didn't make you leave that night, he would've stopped the sorrowful events that followed. He let you walk out of his house that night; and that resorted to you walking out of his life. Had you still been alive, things would've been so different. You would've been beside him—not as a ghost, but alive. Guilt ate him up inside out, and despite all the what-ifs, he can't do anything about it. You were gone. He could've killed, cried, prayed to God for all of eternity—done everything in your name. But you'd still be dead. He pled himself guilty for a crime he didn't commit—because in his heart, he believed he had. In the face of all his pain, he knew that it would never rival yours.
You longed for his warmth—his touch. Being a ghost didn't leave you warm in any way. Sam was your everything. And you missed everything.
After following them around the location for a few hours, it was finally time for both your favorite and least favorite part of the paranormal investigation: The Estes Method. At first, you loved it—another opportunity, a chance at finally reaching your boyfriend from the spirit world. But most of the time, that same hope almost faded, hence why you disliked it just as much. They always thought it was some angry ghost, threatening them. Not once did they consider that it could've been you.
Your words came through the device jagged and broken, lost in static and distortion. You couldn’t blame them for misunderstanding. But it didn’t make it hurt any less.
"Sam? Sam Golbach!" You call out, trying to get your voice over all the radio signals. "This is your girlfriend—"
It was Colby wearing the headphones and the blindfold, while Sam was the one holding the camera, listening. Two brains, and still, nothing made sense to them.
"Uhhh... Is—your—and—" Colby repeats what he heard, which were all just fragments of what you originally said. "It's all static, man."
Sam just continued watching, his eyes narrowed in focus. His grip on the camera was tight as his mind was still set that an angry spirit was speaking to them, and not you.
Almost on the verge of giving up, irritated, you groan, "This is Y/N guys!"
Colby visibly flinches, frantically prying the headphones and the blindfold off. "Dude. I swear to fucking God—"
Clearly panicked, Sam quickly helps Colby as he almost drops the camera in the process. Distress was evident in his eyes. His mind was racing, spinning, thinking of all the possibilities what the "restless spirit" might've said.
"I swear, on my life, dude," Colby glanced at sam, his gazed filled with hope and distress. He nearly couldn't believe it, but he was too sure of what he had heard.
"That shit just said 'Y/N'."
Sam couldn't believe what just dawned on him. It was almost unbelievable. It was the same sort of feeling he had when he learned of your death. This was nearly unreal for him.
"...You're kidding." Sam's voice broke, and it sounded as though his heart wasn't already broken enough.
In an attempt to comfort himself and his best friend, Colby places a hand on his shoulder. "I promise I'm not, Sam."
Sam sets down the camera close by, and once he turns to Colby, tears well up in his eyes, threatening to flow like a dam that is about to burst.
"Y-Y/N?" He croaks out, like it was almost too impossibly painful to call out your name. It seems as though uttering your sweet name is taking all his vigor.
You slowly approach him, each step becoming heavier and heavier as you go. The world seemingly came crashing down, either of you knowing if it was a good or a bad thing.
The fortress Sam built around him has fallen like it was never real, contrast to the amount of time he'd spent on it, trying to hold it up. All those months spent attempting to move on from you were in vain. He had the same hollow ache in his eyes as he had that day. He’d spent months building a castle out of glass, convincing himself it was stone—only to watch it shatter at the sound of your name.
Colby rushes to him, his own heart breaking for his best friend's pain. That broken look Sam held was too much for him. He reaches out a gentle hand to his buddy's shoulder, soothingly rubbing indistinguishable circles in the name of comfort. He embraces the blondie, as both of them helplessly kneel on the ground.
You look down at your boyfriend, his back facing you. He shook, trying to compose himself, aware that he's failing miserably.
"Y/N," he calls out, surprising you as he finally acknowledges your presence. You could feel your own tears well up, desperately blinking like you're trying to keep them at bay.
Sam croaks out. "Is it really you? Are you here?" He sounded crazy, insane, even. He looked so desperate, desperately looking for any sign of you. His sobs come out restrained, broken, and painful. Grief had its claws and it was dragging itself through your boyfriend's throat. At the same time, the wound you thought you'd healed had rehashed itself.
You break into your own fit of sobs as if it were the only things holding you up. You embrace Sam, your hands touching absolutely nothing. Sam speaks out again, his heavy breathing in between words. "I miss h-her. I m-miss her, m-man...!"
Your arms around nothing becomes tighter before Colby patted Sam's back in a brotherly manner as he tries to compose himself. He held himself and Sam up, but a wave of shivers running through his spine does not go unnoticed by him.
"I'm sure she knows, I'm sure..." Colby says with a shaky sigh, as his eyes go directly through you—not to you—but through you. He was almost subconsciously aware of your presence, yet he couldn't totally wrap his finger around what was truly going on. He senses something there, but also not there. You were too out of reach to comprehend.
You whisper sweet nothings into Sam's ear albeit knowing he couldn't hear you. You knew damn well the silence would meet you. Hope is a cruel habit.
For a few minutes, Colby holds Sam in his arms as he continues breaking down. They decided that it would be better if they cut the recording for now, as it already took a mental toll on Sam.
As you watch them stand up, you helplessly stay seated on the floor, feeling empty if that's even possible. If spirits could feel nothing, you were the proof they could.
As they take their equipment, the sounds were locked out. The noise and quiet conversation between the two of them were distant—almost like you're underwater. And when the door closes with a click behind them, you stayed in that room, your figure still as a statue. You could feel the room around you exhale from the tension—but you don't.
And in that moment, a flicker of regret curls inside you. It was quiet but sharp. This haunting—how ironic—the pain, the scene unfolded to you, the tears in Sam's eyes which is impossible to recover from, it almost made you wish you’d moved on.
{This work is mine and mine only; it can’t and will not be copied or "rewritten".}
The heat radiated off the desert in shimmering waves, even as the sun began to dip behind the mountains. Coachella was a haze of color and sound—thumping bass, sweet smell of sunscreen, diverse outfits. This was your second time at Coachella, and this time you were blessed to be invited by a brand you modeled for.
You were alone this year, your best friend having a last-minute work trip to France for a Dior runway show. So you just wandered around saying hello to familiar faces and fans. Eventually, making it back into the artist section. You stopped at a bar to grab a drink, as you're about to leave you are stopped by miss Tara.
"Hello gorgeous," she exclaims. "omg hello, it's so nice to see you." You reply, wrapping your arms around her. "Where's Lina?" Tara asks, looking around. "She's in France at a Dior show, it was a very last-minute work trip" you say pouting a little. "well you can hang with us, lets go" She says hooking her arm with your's.
You clutch your cup as you look around, eyes landing on a familiar face. Sam. In the flesh. Laughing with his brunette best friend, head back, sitting low in a bean bag with a drink in hand. He looks better in real life, too vibrant for this planet.
As you daydreamed, you didn't even realize your friend stopped talking, looking over to where you were staring. "He's hot, isn't he?" Jake says, laughing, "Yeah, he-" you stop and look at Jake, surprised. "Oooo, y/n has a little crush on Sam," Tara chants as she jumps around the table you sat at. "Shut up, I was just people watching," you roll your eyes, turning around and downing the rest of your drink.
The group just laughs and continues talking, but you can't help but lose interest in the debate at hand, of whether a hot dog is a sandwich. You turn one last time towards Sam, but you end up making eye contact. He smirks and looks back at the group in front of him. You look away, and start paying attention to what is happening in front of you.
"Oh, and then she followed me through 2 stores," Tara says. You knew what she was talking about; this isn't your first time hearing about the weird girls at the mall who just follow her for content. "Omg do you remember when the mom called you a bitch for saying no to her daughter" You chime in finally. "omg stop, that was the worst day ever. I pray to never meet that mom ever again." Tara says passionately. Jake starts sharing a story when it's cut off by a blonde guy grabbing his shoulder.
"What's up, brother?" you look over at the voice. It was Sam. "omg hey Sam, how are you doing?" Jake responds, giving Sam a hug. "So busy but at least I'm getting money, ya know," Sam laughs lightly. Everyone laughs in agreement. "I see you found y/n here, it's nice to meet you by the way," the blue-eyed boy says with a warm smile that feels like we've been friends for years. "Nice to meet you too," you say, eyes never leaving his.
"You here alone or with Tara?" He asks, taking a quick second to look over at the short girl currently grinning from ear to ear at the interaction. "I'm here alone, my best friend Lina is in at a Dior fashion show". You say with a small smile. "Oh, I see, I'm gonna have to catch you later. Maybe at Charli xcx?" He says with a big smile on his face. "Yeah, you can catch me there," you say with a smile back, you thought to yourself how he knew Charli was one of your favorite artists.
"Omg y/n, he's so into you," Tara yells. "You're joking, it was just a little chit-chat," you say in complete denial. Tara rolls her eyes and shakes her head. "Well, anyway, let's go get food and more drinks before we go to Charlie," she starts hopping around the table toward you.
The whole time, you are thinking about the interaction you had with Sam. It wasn't rushed or awkward like you originally thought. It was pretty easy, Natural. Sam's questions seemed very personal, but also small talk. It felt like we slipped into a bubble. Just us too.
after getting food and more drinks it was time to go to the Artist section by the stage. You started feeling a realy tipsy, slightly giggling more than before, and more comfortable.
As you made it to the barricade, you bumped into what felt like a wall. Before you could even fall back, you were caught by a warm arm that held you close. You looked down from the sky to the same face you saw earlier. Sam.
"Are you good?" he got you back on your feet, "yeah, thank you so much," you say, eyes never leaving his again. "I'm glad to see you again," he says, smiling. "Yeah, you too," you say, still a little stunned.
As the concert starts, you end up singing and dancing with Sam. It starts off but jumping around together, but now, his arm is loosely draped around your hip as you enjoy music, in the middle of a set, Sam leans in and whispers in your ear. "Wanna go somewhere quieter and talk? I want to get to know you." Even the warm air of his breath made you shiver. You nod, taking his hand and walking through people to the exit.
You both walk back to the artist section, hand in hand. Sam leads you to a private tent with his and Colby's names on it. As you enter, there is a table full of snacks and drinks. The other space has a table and mats, a long couch, and bean bag chairs. "Wow, this is nice," you say, breaking the silence. "Yeah, YouTube really outdid itself this year," he says, still guiding you to the couch.
As you sit down, he sits beside you. close beside you.
You talk a lot, getting to know each other, and soon enough, the alcohol you had hits a little harder.
Things start to trail off, and so do your clothes.
Sam's throbbing cock sprung free from his tight boxers, dripping with precut. You looked up from his blushing tip to his blue eyes with a smirk. "better hurry before I get the NDA" you joke again.
Sam flips you over on your stomach, "Ass up baby" he say leaving a quick slap on your ass. His hand fell on your hips as he entered you, groaning at the tightness. "oh fuck" you moan out. "We gotta be quite love," Sam says, gripping your hips harder as a warning.
Sam starts fucking into you as a rough but sticcato pace. making each thrust long and hard. You whine into the couch, trying hard to stay quiet. "Faster, Sam, please," you plead. "As you wish," he says, picking up his pace.
Sam was growling in pleasure "fuck you're so warm and tight". His swollen cock head abusing your cervix with each thrust. He reaches a hand around to play with your clit. "No, please, too much," you whine, gripping the couch arm. "Come on, you can take it, be a good girl for me." Just as those words left Sam's mouth, you felt the coil in your stomach tighten even more. "Fuck Sam 'm gonna cum" your eye rolling back as you're overwhelmed body started to shake.
"cum for me y/n, come on" He says still rubbing continuous circles around your clit. Now his lips are attached to your neck as he fuck deeper into you. "Fuckfuckfuck," you chant out while your upper body gives out on you, and you lie against the couch, doing this causes Sam to hit a different part of you, causing you to feel overstimulated. You try to let him know, but it feels too good to complain. "Fuck i'm gonna cum, where do you want me?" He asks, out of breath. "In me is fine," you just barely whine out. " You sure?' he says, feeling closer. "Yes, I'm positive".
As Sam cum, so do you again. He lets a breathy moan, the sound making you cum a little harder than usual. "ahh, shit" you whine out putting you arm back to push Sam away.
He pulls out, wincing at the feeling. He quickly dresses and helps you get dressed too, grabbing water and a snack from the table. "That was good," you say, laughing. "Really?" he says, a little shocked. "Yeah, I think the best I've had in a while," you confess. "I'm honored," Sam says, taking the space on your lap for his head.
"So you sure I still don't have to sign that NDA?" you laugh. "Nah, you're good, pretty," He says, laughing.
Our small talk was interrupted by our drunk friends' piling into the tent.
"Oh, so this is where you guys went. We were." Colby gets cut off by a screaming Tara. "They had sex, omg," Tara screams. You notice the way Sam's face kind of drops. "Your neck," he whispers.
"And you haven't before?" You say in a sassy tone to your overexcited friend. Those words left everyone in the room, including Sam, shocked.
a/n: this was kinda ass. But I promised it would be out. the next one will be so much better, I was ina rush with this one.
