We sometimes need to build new pieces of our relationships. We shouldn't care about old and lost pieces but create fresh and new moments and memories on the old foundations.
So let's loose the old bricks in nowhere and bind the new ones with the strongest cement in order to fight the next tempest.
So, this my first one-shot AND my first attempt at smut as well. Please be kind!
Pairing: Matthias Schoenaerts x Reader
BIG THANKS to @feminamortem for being my muse on this one :)
You barely made it through the door of the apartment before clothes started to fly. You think you heard a shoe break a lamp in the living room, but at the moment, your only destination was the bed. You could buy a new lamp tomorrow.
Tonight had been the Belgian premiere of Matthias’ newest movie; and as his girlfriend of a year, you (of course) had been his date. You were wearing a lovely dress and he looked more than handsome in his suit. The film had been a roaring success and it was amazing to see him take pictures with the rest of his cast and his fans. But now, he was all yours.
“Baby, thank you for coming with me tonight,” he said between kisses. “You look so stunning in this fucking dress that I almost hate to take it off you. Almost.”
The dress had beautiful floral details and it was definitely the most gorgeous thing you’d ever had on. It was a pale blue color and had a deep plunging neckline. You felt like a fairy tale princess. But at the moment, you just wanted it off.
He smoothed his large hands down between your breasts and then up your arms and over your shoulders. Never breaking contact, his hands traveled to the small of your back where he made short work of the zipper. He stepped back to admire you as you shimmied out of it. The plunge of the dress was low, so he knew that you weren’t wearing a bra, but you had another surprise for him. As your gown dropped to the floor, you heard his sharp intake of breath. You had decided to forgo panties for the evening as well.
As carefully as you could manage in your lust addled state, you picked up the dress and draped it over the nearest chair, knowing that he was watching you like a hawk the entire time.
Before you could turn around, you felt him behind you. One hand came to the front of your body and up to your breasts and the other delved between your legs from behind.
“Shit! Baby, you are drenched! How long have you been like this?” he asked lowly.
“Mmmmm, since before we left.”
“Sweetheart, that was like…5 hours ago!”
When the car service had called to let you know they had arrived, he walked out of the bedroom looking possibly more handsome than you had ever seen him before. His hair was cropped a bit shorter than usual and he decided on just a dress shirt and jacket with his suit tonight. No tie. Since he was in his home country, he felt more at ease than he would have at a Hollywood premiere. Not only were you here, but all of his friends and family as well.
You could hear his fingers gently pushing in and out of your tight heat. The sounds were pornographic, but you were so worked up at this point, that you couldn’t find yourself to even consider being embarrassed. He loved your body. And you loved what he did to it. You ground yourself back against him and reached both hands back to his belt buckle.
“I know it was 5 hours ago, goddammit! But you looked so fucking sexy in that suit tonight. And seeing you here, at home, in front of such a big crowd of people who love you and admire you…and keeping me by your side. Well…it did things to me…”
“Awwww, honey, I love you too.”
“Yes, I know, Schoenaerts! Now, get that sexy ass naked, and get inside me!”
He removed his fingers and spun you around quickly to face him. Crouching down and grabbing you by the backs of your thighs, he hoisted you up so that you could wrap your legs around his waist. He carried you to the bed and practically threw you down in his haste to remove the rest of his clothing.
As he stood by the bed and disrobed, you took a moment to appreciate the view. He hadn’t had to lose or gain weight for his last couple roles, so right now, he just looked like your Matthias. He considered his body to be a big part of his craft, and he often pushed himself to the brink to inhabit his characters. That work ethic was one of the things you loved most about him. As he bent down to take off his socks, you were reminded of another reason you adored him. He knew that you hated socks in bed; and no matter how desperate the two of you were to touch one another, he took the few extra seconds to take them off. Those little details meant so much to you. And he knew it. He caught you staring and tossed a sock in your direction, eliciting a laugh from you. You had always been a playful couple and not a day went by, even when you were in the middle of an argument, that there wasn’t laughter in your home.
But as he removed his boxers and strode towards the bed, that laughter died. He was hard and ready for you. He looked downright predatory and you couldn’t wait to be prey. Just before he climbed onto the mattress, you spread your legs wide, just so he could see how ready you were for him as well. The insides of your thighs were wet with arousal and your pussy was throbbing with need for him.
He knew you weren’t in the mood for slow and steady right now. You wanted him. This was not going to be slow, tender lovemaking. He was going to fuck you. And you couldn’t wait.
Matthias wasted no time, and before you even had a moment to register what was happening, you had been flipped onto your stomach.
He leaned down so that his lips brushed your ear and with a quiet authority said, “Come on, baby girl…up on your knees.”
You could have come right then.
Pushing yourself up, you spread your knees as wide as you could and looked back over your shoulder. He was on his knees behind you, softly pumping his cock and waiting for you to give him the green light. As your eyes met, you gave a quick nod. That was all he needed. He dropped one hand to your hip and the other to your shoulder as he thrust himself into your welcoming body in one stroke.
Your eyes rolled back into your head and you let out a moan that was positively wanton. Even after a year together, he filled you up so perfectly. He was very well endowed, but he always made sure that you were wet enough to take him. In all the times you had been together, you don’t think that you had ever been as soaked as you were right now.
He immediately began a punishing pace and you knew that neither of you would last long.
He pulled your arms so that you were also sitting up on your knees and wrapped one arm around your waist and the other around your neck. He had no intention of cutting off your air supply. No, this was a mark of possession. All the while, he kept up his deep thrusts and words of love and praise.
He knew that you loved it when he was vocal during sex. You also knew how quickly you were both chasing your release and he knew that his words would get you there on a bullet train.
“Baby, you are so fucking sexy. I could fuck this tight, wet pussy forever. It’s mine. You’re mine. I love you and I love it when you give your beautiful body to me. Now I need you to let go. Come on, come for me. Come. Now!”
As he spoke the last words, you detonated. You shook and cried out his name as your body clamped down, your own orgasm causing his. As he moaned, you could feel him fill you up.
You both stayed up on your knees for a few moments. His arms remained wrapped around you and he dropped small kisses and licks to your back and neck as you came down from your mutual high.
He pulled out of you gently and you both dropped to the mattress, him on his back, and you nestled into his side. He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close.
You spoke first.
“Thank you, honey. That was just what I needed.”
“Oh, you are welcome, doll. And believe me, the pleasure was all mine.”
“Now, you KNOW that’s not true,” you said as you gave a soft bite to his chest.
“Ouch! Shit. If you were hungry, all you had to do was ask!” he said playfully, rubbing the spot where you had bit him.
“Actually, now that you mention it. I could go for a snack. I didn’t eat before or during the premiere because I didn’t want to risk getting anything on my dress.”
He climbed out of bed and headed, fully nude, towards the kitchen. It was a sight that you hoped you got to witness for the rest of your life.
“Well, we went shopping yesterday, so we’re pretty well stocked. What is it that my love wants? Anything your heart desires!” he said, as he dramatically waved his arms.
“Waffles.”
“What?!”
“You heard me, Schoenaerts. I want waffles.”
“Alright then. Waffles it is.”
As he spoke the last words, you immediately began to giggle. It started as a soft laugh and grew until you were cackling so hard that tears ran down your cheeks. All the while, your poor boyfriend stood and watched, utterly confused by what could possibly be so funny.
“Babe, care to share what’s got you so worked up?” he said cautiously.
“Waffles! I want waffles and we’re in Belgium! And you’re from Belgium! And I’m going to eat ACTUAL Belgian waffles!”
He was used to you being ridiculous, and he just shook his head and smiled. He loved you so much and soon, he’d make sure that he got to be the one cooking you waffles for the rest of your life.
Instead of heading to the kitchen, he jumped back onto the bed and pulled you into a crushing hug. You wrapped yourself around him in return. In these moments, you fell more in love with him than you knew was possible.
He pulled back to look into your eyes, before he spoke.
“Hey…I love you so much. You know that, right?”
You put one hand on the side of his face and stroked his cheek as you responded.
“I do know. And I love you too…my sexy Belgian Waffle.”
He shook his head as pushed you onto your back and buried his face in your neck.
As you began to laugh and squeal, you heard his deep voice say,
“Fuck it. You get your waffles AFTER round two!”
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Schoenaerts role likewise Winslet’s is still being kept under wraps, however, both will find themselves in the middle of an unraveling…
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Matthias Schoenaerts has always been a bit of a conundrum: a brilliant actor in the body of a supermodel bruiser. Maybe that’s why, even though he’s from Belgium, he has long been drawn to a certain kind of rough-and-tumble American art thriller — like “The Drop,” or the criminally overlooked “Blood Ties” (where he was mesmerizing as an outer-borough lowlife), or last year’s “Red Sparrow,” in…
