aaliyah 𝜗𝜚₊˚

𝐖𝐇𝐘'𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇︖

chris loves to call when he’s drunk and needy.

warnings ︖ smut substances mean!chris aloof!reader

𝐓𝐇𝐄 first time he calls, it’s late. surprise to no one, though. it’s always late. your phone buzzes against your nightstand, soft at first, then louder. you groan, roll over, squint at the screen through one eye. chris. you let it ring. just for a second. just long enough to prove to yourself you don’t have to pick up. you still do. “…hello?”

your voice comes out rough, sleep-heavy. there’s a beat on the other end, muffled music, someone laughing somewhere far behind him, you gather he’s stepped outside or into a hallway to take this. “hey.”

he says it easy. too easy. like you talked this afternoon. like he didn’t leave your last text sitting there for three days, unopened, untouched. you push yourself up against your headboard, blanket pooling in your lap. your room is quiet, the kind of quiet that makes everything feel louder than it should. “it’s like, one in the morning,” you mumble. a quiet exhale, almost a scoff. “yeah. i know.” of course he does.

he always calls at times like this. never three in the afternoon, never when the sun is out and people are normal and you could pretend this is something normal too. it’s always like this, the hours when everyone is tuckered in the night and people are dreaming of going to work in their underwear.

there’s a pause. you can hear him breathing. “you busy?” you almost laugh at that. your eyes flick around your room. your desk, messy with half-finished work. your shoes kicked off by the door. everything exactly where it was before he called. and it would be exactly there when he hung up. “no,” you say, quieter now. he hums, low, that’s what he expected. and there it is.

he only calls like this. late. hazy. you start to think he just remembered you exist in the middle of everything else. you press your lips together, thumb tracing the edge of your phone. “what do you want, chris?” another shift. fabric, maybe. his voice comes back softer, closer, like he’s leaning into the phone now.

“nothing,” he says, and then, after a second, “just… wanted to hear you.” you cock a brow. you know the tone in his voice, those breathy slurs. "just... wanted to hear your voice," he repeats, slower this time. purposefully slow, like he's drawing out the words to fill the quiet between you two. his voice drops lower, more intimate. "you still awake?" stupid question, considering you just answered the phone.

“yeah, chris. clearly.” you scoff, immediately irritated. the background noise cuts abruptly when that door clicks shut. the bass-heavy thrum of the music is reduced to a dull, distant vibration, suddenly muffled by wood and distance. you hear the familiar squeak of his mattress springs, the rustle of duvet covers as he collapses backward. “shit’s loud out there,” he mumbles, sounding significantly closer to the speaker now.

"so... what are you wearing?" his voice takes on that familiar, playful tone he uses when he's been drinking. you can almost picture him laid out on his bed, phone cradled against his ear as he stares up at the ceiling, a lazy grin tugging at his lips.

your jaw tightens. "you really gonna do this now?" you mutter, pulling your blanket tighter around your waist. "because if this is what you wanted to hear, i could've saved us both the time." a low chuckle escapes from his end of the line. "what? i can't check on my girl?" he's quiet for a second, and you think maybe he's caught himself, realized how easily the words slipped out. 'his girl'. he doesn't mean it like that, not really. but you don't correct him. "you're still there?" he asks, voice softening. "yeah," you sigh, flopping back against your pillows.

"you know what i'm thinking about?" he asks, his voice taking on that husky edge that means he's probably taking off his shirt right now. "probably not," you mutter, but your heart rate picks up anyway. "your tits," he says bluntly, like he always does when he's like this. "in that black lace bra you wore last week." you can hear the rustle of fabric on his end, the sound of him adjusting himself. "fuck, they were perfect."

his hand slowly moves down his stomach, slipping beneath the waistband of his boxers. he's hard already, thinking about you. "you remember that night?" he asks, his voice hoarse. "when i bent you over the couch and fucked those pretty tits?" you swallow hard.

you definitely remember. you can practically feel his hands on you again, the weight of him pressing you into the cushions. "i remember," you murmur, your free hand moving up to brush over your chest. "yeah?" his breath hitches slightly, the wet slide of his hand audible on the line. "miss fuckin' them." his words make your stomach flip, a familiar heat pooling low in your belly. "chris," you warn, but it comes out breathy. you're already sliding your hand under your sleep shirt, thumb brushing over a nipple. "i can make you come in like two minutes if you let me," he boasts, voice thick. "right now. over the phone."

you scoff, but your fingers are already circling your nipple, mimicking his touch. "you're drunk," you whisper back, but you're arching into your own touch. "i doubt you can even stand." "doesn't mean i don't know how to make you wet," he counters, and you hear the slick sound of his hand working over his cock.

"come on, baby," he coaxes, his voice dropping lower. "just let me hear you come. i'll be quiet, i promise." you bite your lip, knowing you shouldn't but already sliding your hand down into your panties. "chris..." you whimper softly. "yeah, that's it," he breathes, the sound of his fist moving faster now, wet and rhythmic. "touch that pussy for me. tell me how wet you are." your fingers slip through your folds easily, confirming exactly what he knew. "soaked," you whisper back, embarrassed but turned on. "god, i wish i was there."

"fuck, me too," he groans, and you can hear the strain in his voice. "i'd eat you out until you couldn't walk. just lay you out on my bed and worship that pretty cunt." his dirty talk is always slightly poetic when he's drunk. "but since i'm not there... you're just gonna have to make yourself come for me."

your finger slides inside, and you bite back a moan. "you're such an asshole," you whisper, but you're already moving against your own touch. "drunk, calls me at one am, demands i get myself off while he listens..." he snorts at that. "demands?" he echoes, a lazy chuckle escaping him. "baby, i'm beggin'."

you roll your eyes, but you're too turned on to be actually annoyed. your finger moves faster, in and out, while your thumb circles your clit. "shut up," you hiss quietly, listening to him pant on the other end. "i…just...shut up and listen." he goes quiet immediately, the only sound his heavy breathing and the muffled noises of his hand moving rapidly. you can imagine him laid out on his bed, phone pressed to his ear, eyes closed as he listens to your soft whimpers and wet sounds.

your legs spread wider, giving yourself better access. you're close already, his dirty words and the sound of him jerking off pushing you towards the edge. "almost there," you whisper hoarsely. on his end, he lets out a low groan, his pace increasing. "that's it... fuck..." he shifts, "come on, baby," he urges softly, voice tight with his own impending orgasm. "let me hear you. i wanna hear you come through the phone." your free hand moves up to cover your mouth, muffling your moans as your back arches off the bed.

you come with a silent cry, body shaking as your orgasm crashes over you. on the other end of the line, he lets out a stifled groan, spilling into his hand as he listens to your ragged breathing. "fuck... yeah..." he mumbles, sounding completely out of it. once his breathing has returned to normal, he asks quietly, "you still there?" his voice is softer now, the alcohol and post-orgasmic state making him almost tender. "mhm," you murmur, still trying to catch your breath.

"you know... for someone who was just cursing me out, you sure sounded sweet when you came." he smirks, his voice low. "almost made me cum just listenin' to you." you roll your eyes, a small smirk tugging at your lips despite yourself. "shut up." he laughs softly, the sound warm and familiar. "you're welcome," he says, a note of smugness in his voice. "anytime you need a little help getting off, just give me a call." you shake your head, even though he can't see it. he’s definitely drunk.

─── ⋆⋅around your neck⋅⋆ ──

in which chris finds out you’ve spent your own money on a necklace from his brand, and customized it. and we all know this man loves things customized…

⤷ smut ⋮ bf!chris x fem!reader ⋮ light choking

figured i would make something for my chris girls, this one goes especially out to @salemsturniolo

psa! english is not my first language. mdni

the late sun bleeds through the large window, painting the living room a muted orange. the air hangs heavy, thick with the scent of a recent meal and the faint, sweet perfume you wear. you’re resting on the couch, in sleep shorts and a light tank top with a book open on your chest when you suddenly hear the sound of clattering keys by the door.

Chris finally enters, and kicks the door shut with ease, his eyes finding you immediately. a tired grin stretches across his face, crinkling the corners of his eyes.

"hey, ma. long day." he breathes out.

you push yourself up, the book sliding beside you. a soft, silver chain catches the last rays of sunlight, glinting against your collarbone.

"rough one? you look like it." you respond softly.

as he kicks his shoes off by the door, his eyes, usually quick to meet yours, linger on your neck, a subtle crease forming between his brows. he takes a step closer, then another, his head tilted.

"what’s that?"

you touch the pendant, a small, polished silver disc with his "Fresh Love" brand logo on it, cool against your skin. you feel a blush creep up your neck, a warmth spreading across your cheeks. you’d bought it online, a quiet indulgence, a secret little thrill, Fresh Love, his brand. customized with his initials. C.O.S.

"just... a necklace." you answer shyly.

he closes the distance, his shadow falling over you. he reaches out, his fingers brushing the cool metal. he doesn't look at you, his gaze fixed on the pendant. his thumb traces the delicate engraving. C. O. S. the letters stand out, stark against the polished silver. his own initials.

"COS?"

his voice low in his chest. you watch his face, a flicker of confusion giving way to something else. recognition. a slow, knowing smile starts to form, pulling at the corners of his mouth. his eyes finally lift to yours, dark and intense.

"you bought this? from my line?" he asks curiously.

"i did." your voice is barely a whisper. you expected teasing, maybe a playful scolding for not just asking him for one. not this intense stare, this sudden shift in the air.

"and you got my initials. why didn’t you just… tell me, sweetheart? i would’ve given you a whole damn collection." he says as he plucks at the chain, tugging it gently. the silver disc lifts from your skin, then settles back. his gaze drops to your lips, then back to your eyes, a glint in their depths.

"i wanted to buy it. i wanted it to be... mine." you answer matter-of-factly.

his fingers are still on the chain, a light pressure against your throat. he steps closer, the scent of his faint cologne fills your senses.

"yours, huh? you bought my name.", he leans in, his breath warm against your cheek. his lips brush your earlobe, sending a shiver down your spine

"that’s a bold move, ma. a very bold move."

his hand slides from the necklace, curling around the back of your neck, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin behind your ear. he pulls you closer, his mouth finding yours. the kiss starts soft, tentative, a question. your lips part, inviting him deeper. his tongue sweeps inside, it dances with yours, a slow, sensual exploration. he angles his head, deepening the kiss, his hand tightening at your neck, pulling you further into him until your chest presses against his.

his other hand slides down your arm, over your hip, settling on your thigh. his fingers dig in, a gentle squeeze. you moan into his mouth, a soft, involuntary sound. the book you were reading tumbles to the floor with a soft thud. he breaks the kiss, a soft pop of wet lips, his eyes still dark, still locked on yours.

"you have no idea what you just did, do you?"

his mouth descends again, harder this time, more demanding. his tongue plunges, tasting every corner of your mouth. you taste yourself on him, a delicious, dizzying mingling of flavors. his hand on your thigh moves higher, sliding under the hem of your comfy shorts, his fingers brushing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

you arch into him, your hands finding his broad shoulders, your fingers digging into the muscle beneath his shirt. he groans, a deep sound, as his hand explores higher, grazing the delicate lace of your underwear. you gasp, the sound swallowed by his kiss. he pulls back, just enough to breathe, his forehead resting against yours.

"you’re asking for it, baby. begging for it."

his fingers find the elastic band of your panties, hooking them lightly. you feel a sudden rush of heat, a dampness spreading between your legs. he feels it too, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. he stands, pulling you up with him. your legs tangle, your body pressed flush against his. he walks backward, tugging you along, his eyes never leaving yours, a silent challenge, a promise of what’s to come.

he backs you against the nearest wall, the cool plaster a stark contrast to the heat radiating from his body. his hips press into yours, a hard, insistent pressure that leaves no doubt about his arousal. he releases your mouth, his lips trailing down your jawline, nipping at your earlobe, then down your neck, lingering on the pulse point at your throat.

"my initials. around your neck."

his words are punctuated by soft kisses, each one sending chills through you. his hands move to your shorts again and pull them down slowly, then the tank top, leaving you in nothing but your bra and panties. he takes a step back, his eyes devouring you.

"fuck, you’re stunning."

he reaches out, his fingers tracing the lace of your bra, then the curve of your breast. he cups one, his thumb brushing over your nipple, which instantly hardens under his touch. you gasp, your breath catching in your throat. he leans in, his tongue flicking out, tasting the sensitive skin of your neck, just below your ear.

"i want to taste you everywhere." he whispers sending chills down your spine.

he kneels, his eyes still locked on yours burning within them. he reaches for your panties, his fingers slipping under the lace, tugging them down. you lift your hips, helping him, your breath coming in ragged gasps. he pulls them off, tossing them aside. you stand before him, completely naked, exposed, and utterly aroused.

he stares, his gaze lingering on your slick, swollen pussy. a bead of pre-cum glistens at the tip of his cock, already hard and thick beneath his jeans. he reaches out, his fingers parting your lips, revealing the glistening pink flesh within. he dips a finger inside, a low groan in his chest.

"so wet and needy already, baby"

he hooks a finger around your clit, circling it gently. you whimper, your knees threatening to buckle. he pulls you forward, guiding you to the couch. you collapse onto the cushions, your legs spread slightly. he sheds his clothes in a hurry of motion, his shirt, then his jeans, revealing his thick, pulsing cock. it springs free, heavy and large, a dark vein snaking along its length.

he climbs onto the couch, positioning himself between your legs. he leans down, his mouth finding your wet pussy. his tongue is hot, wet, and skilled. he laps at your clit, a soft, teasing swirl, then sucks gently, drawing it into his mouth. you cry out, your fingers digging into the cushions, your hips arching instinctively.

his tongue delves deeper, exploring your folds, flicking at your clit with a precision that sends shivers through your entire body. the pleasure builds, a fiery knot tightening in your core. he works you with his mouth, sucking, licking, teasing, until you are writhing beneath him, desperate for more.

"chris… please…"

he pulls back, a string of saliva connecting his mouth to your pussy. he looks up at you, his eyes gleaming with pride.

"beg for it, ma, beg for me."

he positions his cock at the entrance of your pussy, the head nudging your wet folds. you can feel the heat, the thick girth of him, pressing against you. you reach down, guiding him, your fingers brushing against his hard shaft.

"please, Chris. inside, please be inside me…" you whine

he pushes, slowly. the head slides in, stretching you, filling you with a sweet pressure. you gasp, your body trembling. he pauses, letting you adjust, letting your muscles clench around him. he pushes again, inch by inch, until his thick cock is buried completely inside you, filling you to the hilt.

you cry out, a mix of pain and pleasure. your pussy clenches around him, tight and hot. he groans, his eyes rolling back in his head. he starts to move, a slow, deep thrust that sends him to your cervix. you feel him bump against it, an intense sensation. he pulls out almost completely, then plunges back in, a rhythmic, powerful motion.

the couch creaks beneath you as he pounds into you, his hips slamming against yours, a wet, smacking sound filling the air. each thrust sends a jolt of pleasure through you, building higher and higher. you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, wanting more.

he leans down, his mouth finding your neck again. his teeth nip gently at the skin, then his lips suck, leaving a hot, throbbing mark. his hands find the necklace, the silver chain still around your neck. he grips it from behind your neck, not hard, but firm, pulling it taut. the chain presses into your throat, a light, insistent pressure. a small sting of pleasure.

you gasp, not from pain, but from the sudden, unexpected sensation. it adds a new dimension to the pleasure, a thrilling edge of control. he watches your face, his eyes dark.

"you like that, sweet girl? my name around your throat while i fuck you senseless?"

he pulls the chain a little tighter, just enough to make you swallow hard. his thrusts grow more urgent, deeper, faster. he pulls out, almost free, then slams back in, his balls slapping against your ass with a wet smack. the slick of his cock sliding in and out of your pussy fills the room.

you feel the air being pushed out of your pussy with each withdrawal, a soft, squelching sound. your body is sticky with sweat, your legs trembling around his waist. he grabs your hips, lifting them, tilting you just deepening his penetration. he hits your G-spot with every thrust, sending waves of pure ecstasy through you.

you’re close, so close. your muscles clench, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps. he feels it, his own breathing ragged. he pulls the chain tighter, not enough to hurt you, but enough to make you feel utterly vulnerable, utterly his.

"come for me, ma. come for me now."

as he pounds into you, a relentless rhythm, his cock filling you completely. your pussy contracts around him, milking him with every thrust. you feel the build-up, the tension coiling in your belly. the world narrows to the feel of him inside you, the pressure of the chain on your throat, the taste of his skin.

a scream tears from your throat as you shatter, your body convulsing around his cock. your legs clamp around him, your nails digging into his shoulders. he groans, a deep sound, as he feels you cum. he thrusts one last time, deep and hard, spilling his hot, thick cum deep inside you. you feel the warmth, the sudden fullness, as he empties himself into your womb.

he collapses onto you, his body heavy and spent, his breath ragged in your ear. the chain around your neck loosens, then falls slack. he buries his face in your neck, his lips brushing the damp skin.

"fuck, baby. you really do make me fuckin’ crazy"

you lie tangled together, your bodies slick with sweat, your hearts hammering against each other. the scent of sex hangs heavy in the air, an intoxicating smell. he shifts, pulling out of you slowly, a soft pop as his cock slides free. he rolls onto his back, pulling you with him, so your head rests on his chest.

his hand finds the necklace again, his thumb tracing the initials. he smiles a contented smile.

"my name. around your neck, and in your pussy." he smirks proudly.

he pulls you closer, kissing the top of your head. you can still feel the lingering warmth of his cum inside you, a physical reminder of what just happened. you close your eyes, a satisfied sigh escaping your lips.

taglist: ― @salemsturniolo , @rainyyy-weather , @anniewithan-a , @angel-sturn1 , @brookesturns22

  ﹕    NERD!CHRIS STURNIOLO    ⊹    𓈒  physics is hard for chris to concentrate on when you’re grinding on him until he’s a complete mess                               eighteen plus content   ◌ ˖                         ﹙𐓟ll works here     ✶

The desk lamp cast a warm, uneven glow over Chris’s physics textbook, pages open to dense blocks of equations and diagrams that looked more like alien script than science. His glasses were fogged at the edges from how intently he’d been staring, breath steady and quiet as he traced a finger along a line of text, mumbling fragments under his breath: “...compactified dimensions... Calabi-Yau... yeah, that tracks.” His hair stuck up in soft, chaotic tufts where he’d run his hands through it too many times, and the faint scent of his vanilla body wash lingered on his hoodie.

You’d slipped in quietly, heart already thudding at how focused he looked, so lost in his own head, so unfairly pretty when he was trying hard. Without asking, you stepped between his knees, then lifted one leg over, settling onto his lap until your thighs bracketed his hips and your chest brushed his. The chair gave a small creak.

Chris blinked fast, startled. "Baby—hey—" His voice cracked immediately, cheeks flushing a deep, instant pink that spread down his neck. He clutched the textbook tighter, like it was a lifeline. “I—I’m kinda in the weeds with string theory right now. The quiz is tomorrow, and I still don’t get the holographic—”

You didn’t let him finish. You leaned in and pressed your lips to the warm spot just below his ear, soft and slow. His breath hitched hard. You rolled your hips in deliberate, lazy circles that dragged the heat of you right over the sudden, thickening hardness in his sweatpants.

The book shook in his grip. "Fuck—wait—sweetheart—" He sounded wrecked already, his voice pitching up. “I need to finish this chapter, or I’m screwed—” but you still deliver another kiss to his throat that's open-mouthed, lingering. Your fingers slid into his messy hair and tugged lightly, tilting his head back. A quiet, broken whimper slipped out of him. The textbook slipped from his fingers and thudded to the carpet.

His hands flew to your waist, fingers digging in like he was afraid you’d disappear. His hips jerked up once—sharp, helpless—chasing the friction. “Shit—sorry—I didn’t mean—” He shoved his glasses higher with shaky fingers, lenses still fogged, eyes wide and glassy “You just feel so fucking good—I can’t—”

You kissed him properly then, deep and filthy, tongue sliding against his in slow, wet drags that made his whole body shudder. He opened for you like he was starving mouth soft and desperate, sucking at your tongue with needy little pulls, kissing back as if this single moment was the only thing he’d ever truly wanted. His hips jerked again in all short, frantic and helpless little thrusts that rocked the chair beneath you both, the wood creaking in time with his ragged breathing. Through the thin layers of fabric you could feel every thick, throbbing inch of him—hot and leaking, the damp spot already spreading across his sweatpants, so hard it had to be painful, twitching against your core with every grind.

“I’m sorry—fuck, baby, I’m trying so hard—” he gasped between messy kisses, voice cracking and splintering like he was coming apart at the seams. “Your hip god, the way you move—please, please don’t stop, I can’t—I need—”

You rolled down harder, slower, and deliberately, dragging your soaked heat over the rigid length of him until the friction made his eyes roll back behind fogged glasses. His grip on your waist turned frantic—fingers digging in, then flexing open like he didn’t know whether to hold you still or beg you to ruin him more. High, broken whimpers poured from his throat—pathetically sweet, climbing higher and more desperate with every slow circle of your hips. His thighs trembled under you; his breath hitched into soft, sobbing moans he couldn’t swallow down.

Then his whole body locked, spine arching, head dropping hard to your shoulder, glasses sliding crooked down his nose as a choked, wrecked sound tore out of him. Heat bloomed sudden and filthy between you—thick pulses of cum soaking through his boxers in hot, messy spurts, seeping warm and slick against your bare thighs, drenching the front of his sweats until the fabric clung obscenely. His hips stuttered through it, grinding up into you in shallow, helpless jerks, milking every last tremor while he clung like he’d shatter if he let go.

Afterward he didn’t move, just wrapped his arms tight around your middle, face buried deep in the crook of your neck, chest heaving as he breathed you in like oxygen. His lips brushed your skin in tiny, trembling kisses, soft and reverent even as his body still twitched with aftershocks. When he finally lifted his head, his eyes were glassy and dazed, pupils blown wide behind smudged lenses, cheeks flushed a deep, humiliated scarlet that only made him look more wrecked.

“Sorry,” he whispered, voice hoarse and small, barely audible. “That was… so fucking fast.. I couldn't even hold it."

You slid your fingers into his damp hair, brushing it back from his forehead slowly and gently. He leaned into the touch like a kitten starving for affection, eyes fluttering shut, a tiny, shaky exhale slipping past his swollen lips. “Worth it?” you murmured, thumb tracing the curve of his flushed cheek.

He huffed the softest, breathiest laugh—still trembling—and pressed the tenderest kiss to the corner of your jaw, lingering there like he was afraid to pull away. “Worth failing every class I’ve got,” he breathed, thumbs stroking slow, worshipful circles over your sides. “Worth anything if it means you keep touching me like that.”

SUMMARY　::　Y/N wants her first time to be with Matt. Matt intends to do it right... even if the bed doesn’t survive.

FEATURING　Matt Sturniolo x inexperienced!reader　　REQUESTED?　yes.

WARNINGS　::　SMUT (mdni), loss of virginity, age gap, oral sex, p in v, praise kink, daddy kink, fingering and multiple orgasms.

AUTHOR'S NOTE　::　that is my work, I DON'T authorize any form of plagiarism; copy, "inspiration" or translation! | english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

Y/N tried to tell herself it was no big deal as Matt walked into her room.

The man was just looking around, after all. And even if he wasn't, well, she had prepared herself for that - the uncomfortable prickle of razor burn between her legs served as a constant reminder. But, then again, making a slight modification to one’s body does not really necessitate being ready... does it?

Then again, her libido was more than ready; if Matt wasn’t coaxing her into orgasm with nothing but the timbre of his voice over the phone, then Y/N was furiously touching herself to the picture-messages she had from the older man, stored in a secret, password-protected folder in her gallery.

Consumed in this internal debate as she was, she missed Matt’s soft smile as his fingers tenderly brushed over the One Direction poster sitting on Y/N’s wall, by her bedside, and his low whistle as he admired the dresser full of makeup in every shape and color.

"Jesus, sweetheart." It wasn’t until Matt had muttered, that Y/N was startled from her thoughts. Her head snapped up as she realized Matt had migrated toward the bed, which was currently on the receiving end of a frightfully dubious glare. "You need a bigger bed." The man said, as he gave the frame a testing rattle.

Well, his assessment was not wrong. Of course, Y/N found herself delivering an inappropriately long ramble in response.

"Yeah, I mean, I kinda always wanted a bunk bed- not that, like- obviously that doesn’t apply right now, or anything. But, um, for when my friends sleep over?" Matt gave no sign of cutting in or relieving Y/N of her verbal diarrhea in any way.

Y/N’s fingers twisted together as she continued.

"'Cause then I have to take the couch. Again, not that- I’m not gonna take the couch tonight."

She tried to laugh, but the hoarse sound died in her throat when Matt turned to her, brow raising in surprise.

"I mean- I’m not assuming anything." She was quick to amend, waving her hands to swipe the comment away. "I can totally take the couch if you want."

Matt sank onto the bed. Somehow he managed to make it look even smaller, as he leaned back onto his palms looking far too amused with that teasing uplift to his lips.

"You think I came all this way to sleep on a box spring twin all by myself?" He asked as he patted his thigh in invitation. Y/N failed to respond, and he motioned once more, with his head, as he spread his legs.

Y/N forced her socked feet across the room, heart pounding faster and faster with every step, until she was standing in between the man’s parted legs. It gave Y/N the illusion of being in control, towering over Matt, even if it were just a temporary few inches. But she knew, as soon as Matt’s fingers first brushed along the line of her jaw and Y/N’s eyes were helplessly fluttering shut, her lips parting as if to let out a gasp, she knew that she held no real power.

She let Matt’s fingers guide her head, thumb pressed against her chin and fingers curled under her jaw. She melted into Matt’s grasp, her hands braced against the man’s chest to keep herself upright.

Her legs weakened at the warmth of Matt’s open lips. Even after all this time together, she felt like a fumbling youth every time they kissed; her mouth opened too early, her tongue thrust in between Matt’s lips too eagerly. Sometimes Matt would try to guide her, subtly; pull back a little, slow their movements. On a few occasions, Y/N’s tongue had even received a gentle nip from Matt’s teeth. But today, he responded in kind. His hand abandoned Y/N’s chin in favor of gripping the back of her neck, pulling her closer, closer, until Y/N willed her already-throbbing core to slow down; the man’s other hand fisted the back of Y/N’s shirt, pressing into the base of her spine until she had no choice but to press her pelvis against Matt’s stomach.

Her toes curled together in her socks, slipping and sliding against each other as she tried desperately to keep her hips from pressing up and grinding her heat into Matt’s stomach.

It was a losing battle, though, as Matt’s lips detached from hers in favor of attacking Y/N’s neck, biting and sucking at the sensitive skin with a fervor they had previously vowed to avoid - she didn’t need to walk around with a bunch of hickeys, after all.

Her thighs were squeezed so painfully tight in an effort to stay still that she thought her whole body must have been shaking, because suddenly Matt’s lips were pulling away - and not to reattach to Y/N’s open, panting mouth, apparently.

"You okay, there, baby?"

"Hmm?" Y/N murmured. Her eyes struggled to open, sluggish as she was under the heady influence of arousal. Then she caught sight of Matt’s concerned frown, and she snapped to attention. "Huh?"

The intensity of Matt’s gaze refused to relent as his hands dragged along Y/N’s forearms until they rested on her tightly squeezed fists, currently trembling against the man’s chest.

"Wanna slow down?"

"No!"

It may have come out too fast, too desperately, but... Y/N could not say she was lying.

Matt’s pursed lips clearly said the older man was dubious, though he didn’t seem mad. Instead, he massaged the backs of Y/N’s hands until she finally felt her muscles relaxing, enough so that Matt could slip his fingers between hers.

"It’s okay." He murmured, eyes flickering briefly to Y/N’s lips before settling back on her eyes. "I’m not going anywhere. You’re not going anywhere, are you?"

Y/N shook her head.

"See?" He said. "Absolutely no need to rush, sweetheart."

In lieu of a response, Y/N surged forward, smashing her lips against Matt’s. She missed by a few millimeters, overcome with excitement as she was. But the man did not seem to mind, squeezing Y/N’s hips almost painfully tight.

Y/N was under no illusions about her own naivete, and it was not like hearing these words from Matt rid her of all her fears and hesitations. But she had to admit, as she let herself settle into Matt’s lap and felt Matt’s arms wrap around her waist, that it felt... different. She was no longer consumed by her thoughts; instead, she let herself become consumed by Matt's touch.

The pleasurable jolt that went straight to her stomach when Matt's teeth sank into her bottom lip. The fiery drag of Matt's fingertips, always calloused and rough from all the wooden job he did all those times they went camping. Y/N's spine curved in anticipation as those fingers danced along her back, pressing closer and closer toward the line of vertebrae.

She thought she might do anything to feel Matt's tongue slick against her throat once more. But words failed her, and instead she squirmed in anticipation. It was the wrong move- or perhaps the best one, after all, because she was rewarded with a deep groan as Matt's hands slipped down to squeeze her ass. She could feel the man’s fingers digging into the fabric and it was so easy to press back into them. The thought of Matt's hands there, without any fabric between them, sent a throbbing ache straight to her core.

Breathing was becoming increasingly difficult, with her nose smushed against Matt's cheek and her mouth being swallowed up between the man's lips. She forced her head to the side, breaking their kiss as she gasped for breath.

"Off, off-" She panted as soon as she was able, rucking the man's shirt up to his chest.

Thankfully, Matt took over at that point, ripping the material over his head as Y/N's tremulous hands explored his chest.

Y/N's shirt and red bra soon followed suit, but she didn't have time to be shy, because she found herself forced onto her back against the bed, with Matt looming over her.

"Still doing okay?" Matt asked, as if the answer could ever be no when it was followed by a tongue flicking against her ear. As his tongue curved along the shell of her ear, Y/N was rather proud of herself for even being able to emit a weak 'yes'.

She fell into a rhythm, rutting her hips against Matt's thigh between her legs without even realizing it until the man reached down, his hand flattening against Y/N’s lower abdomen and firmly pressing her hips into the mattress.

"Fuck, sweetheart." The man groaned. His fingernails dug into her skin. "Can I touch you?"

Y/N wished she could say that those words alone, whispered roughly into her ear, didn't make her almost cum in her panties. But, well, the sudden gush of moisture soaking her underwear was pretty undeniable.

"Y/N?"

"Y-yeah." The word was a garbled mess coming from her throat. But apparently Matt was fluent in overwhelmingly-aroused young adults, because his palm slid down to cup Y/N's pussy through her jeans.

The groan Y/N released was nothing short of guttural, her head thrashing to the side as her whole body seemed to ache in time with the throbbing of her heart. Matt's hand began to move, to rub her clit through her pants, and fuck, it really couldn't get any better than this-

Matt's nose nudged against Y/N's slack jaw as he huffed.

"I don't want you to come yet, sweetheart." He warned.

Y/N's eyes squeezed shut, hands balling into fists so tightly that her nails dug into her skin as she tried to stave off orgasm. Her attempt was aided, torturously, by the removal of Matt's hand.

"Can I take these off?"

The hand had not removed entirely, after all, Matt's fingers plucked teasingly at the fly of her jeans. Scared of what horrendous sound would come out if she so much as attempted to speak, Y/N reached down and pulled at the buttons herself. Matt sat up in favor of watching Y/N wriggle out of the material, a feat made much more difficult by her arousal.

She briefly considered being really brave by tugging off her panties too in one go. But she chickened out, inevitably, so she sat up to kick off only the pants. The dark red material of her underwear did nothing to hide the wetness soaking through, and she drew her knees in toward her chest. It was possible the man had not seen, though, as he reached over and ruffled a hand through Y/N's disastrous mess of hair.

"You still doing okay?" He murmured.

It would not be an exaggeration to say Y/N's lip quivered as she begged.

"Please, touch me."

It had been so long since she had touched herself. Her core throbbed with undeniable need and yet, she was waiting on Matt for permission, or- or something that said she was okay, maybe even good-

A warm hand settled on the back of her thigh as Matt leaned across her body, his lips attaching to Y/N's shoulder. Y/N sighed, her head tipping back in silent invitation. The hand slid slowly up the bare skin of her thigh before pausing at the fabric's edge, her panties pulled taut against her skin. Y/N welcomed the touch, though; and so she curved her hip into the air, just enough to force Matt's fingers under the edge of the fabric.

Y/N just- honestly, she just wanted nothing more in that moment than for Matt's fingers inside her. She wasn't even sure she could take this arousal any longer; her cheeks were on fire, her jaw ached from gritting her teeth. Her stomach was a horrible jumble of anticipatory knots, and her pussy was one brush away from release.

And so, she flung her leg over Matt's shoulder. The back of her knee settled comfortably against the joint, her heel pressed into the man's ribs. And clearly Matt appreciated the bold move, given his muffled 'fuck' against Y/N's throat as his hand slid over her bare ass.

The moment Matt's finger pressed against Y/N's outer lips - the man wasted no ceremony, after all - she could have come. If not for the way Matt's head jerked up, lips detaching from Y/N's roughened-up throat with an audible smack.

"Baby." He cooed. "Are you always this smooth?"

"N-no." Y/N admitted. She had not thought it possible for her face to flush anymore, and was currently being proven wrong.

Her embarrassment faded, replaced with something more akin to worry as Matt groaned and pressed his face into Y/N's knee, still resting on the man's shoulder. He mumbled something the girl could not make out.

"Ah, what?"

"I don't know what I did to deserve you." Matt said. Y/N could not be sure if it was what he had said originally, but it warmed her heart nonetheless. "But fuck, I have you." Matt continued, pinching the soft skin of Y/N's thigh between his teeth. "Can I taste you?"

Admittedly, Y/N was still sifting through all of what Matt had said even as she nodded in response. Taste me?

She understood what Matt must mean, of course, and then had to smother an embarrassing smile behind her palm as she realized she was going to be eaten out for the first time ever.

Matt was such an amazing kisser; Y/N could not even fathom what the man's mouth would feel like on her pussy. She eagerly wriggled out of her panties as Matt began to pull it down.

The cold air hitting her wet core was more than welcomed.

So caught up in her giddy thoughts, she barely registered the room doing a 180 as she was flipped onto her stomach.

Matt's thumbs dug into the end of her asscheeks, a warning for which Y/N failed to account before they were pried open, and down slipped Matt's tongue.

And, fuck- Matt's tongue was so slick, and wet, and hot, and he was laving against Y/N's pussy hole like he intended to worship this singular part of the girl with his tongue alone.

Tantalizing as it was, it took a moment of Y/N squirming around, half-tempted to pull out of the man's grasp, until she finally adjusted. She allowed her muscles to relax, her legs to spread apart, and her back to arch, her head dropping between her shoulders.

Matt, attuned to Y/N, seemed to notice the shift; his tongue flexed and pressed, determined now, into Y/N's throbbing entrance. The girl could not help but clench up; it felt so foreign, and a bit wrong, and could Matt really even enjoy this...?

The tip of his tongue managed to push inside and Matt was instantly moaning, arms wrapping around Y/N's thighs and forcing her ass impossibly closer. He pulled away for just a moment - and Y/N was surprised at how empty she felt in that moment -, and sounded utterly wrecked as he talked.

"Sweetheart, you're fucking delicious."

Y/N's arms, shaking almost violently, could no longer support her. Her elbows slid across the comforter until she had a face full of fabric to smother her moan. It was much easier, as Matt resumed the onslaught of his tongue with renewed vigor, to will her muscles to relax. And it was well worth it, as Matt's tongue prodded its way further in, each new millimeter celebrated with a moan.

It almost felt as though Y/N were losing time; she was aware of her face pressed against the bed, but all she could sense was the hot press of Matt's tongue. The slick saliva coating her skin, the quiver in her thighs as they begged to give out, even the breathy sounds escaping her lax mouth. And when Matt pressed his thumb into the sensitive skin of her clit, the surge of arousal shooting through her body seemed to alight all her nerve endings at once.

"Fuck!"

It was as if once her mouth opened to say the word, she couldn't stop herself.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck- Matt, Matt, I-"

"Shh, shh." Matt cut in. "I got you, honey." One of the man's hands released its vice grip on Y/N's thigh, only to reach out and find Y/N's own hand, desperately fisting the comforter. "I know what you need, okay?"

What she needed, apparently, was Matt's tongue to be joined by the burning stretch of his fingers.

"Oh, oh my-" Y/N's voice faltered as her eyes watered. "Oh my God."

As it turned out, Matt was not wrong.

Y/N came, instantly, without any thought given to waiting for Matt's approval, her body jerking helplessly against the bed.

Matt was saying something, but it was beyond the realm of Y/N's senses in that moment. She was aware only of the abating ache in her pussy, and Matt's hand, slick with sweat and squeezing Y/N's. She tried to squeeze back, to communicate something, but she forgot how to program her muscles to respond.

Her legs gave up before too long. This time she heard Matt's words.

"No, don't-"

But she didn’t register their meaning until her belly was already smushed against the moisture-covered blanket. Huh, she didn't know she could drip in wetness so much.

"Hmm, s’okay." She decided.

She was rolled onto her back at some point, and a scratchy cloth wiped her stomach and pussy clean. She was not entirely sure what happened to the spot; she could barely comprehend it as a problem that needed fixing at this point. All she knew was that finally, at last, Matt was settling into bed alongside her. It was a tight squeeze, even with Y/N wedged right up against the wall and Matt wrapping his arms around her, pulling her so close as to physically meld together.

But it was comfortable, somehow. Perhaps the most comfortable Y/N had ever felt, with Matt's heart - fast at first, but now slowing - beating against her chest, his fingers brushing through Y/N's sweaty strands, and his breath fanning her burning cheek.

Until, of course, there was a chuckle in her ear.

"Nice Harry Potter sheets, by the way."

Like most mornings since hitting puberty, Y/N woke up aroused. Her body, of course, gave no consideration to the man sleeping behind her - her boyfriend, whose arm was slung over her hip, fingers currently tapping an incomprehensible beat against Y/N’s bare stomach.

"What’s wrong, sweetheart?" Matt asked. And God, it should be illegal for him to speak so early in the morning; his voice was hoarse and scratchy with sleep, and it had Y/N’s toes curled into the sheets in response.

She tried, and most likely failed, to turn onto her stomach with great subtlety.

"Nothing." She lied, even as the ache between her legs begged to differ. "Do you want breakfast? I-I can make... eggs? Or, um..."

It was hard to think of suggestions because Matt was now humming as he pressed light kisses to Y/N’s shoulder. His fingers danced down Y/N’s spine, coming to a stop at her hipbone just above the waistband of her panties.

She had no recollection of getting partially redressed the night before but assumed Matt must have pulled them back on for her.

"Are you offering, honey?"

Matt’s eyes were half-lidded, staring up through his thick, dark lashes. It was his lips, curving into a mischievous little grin, that gave him away; Y/N’s cheeks flushed as she thought of last night.

Matt’s smile widened as his fingertips pressed into her skin, forcing her pelvis into the mattress. The girl's head turned, unsuccessfully burying a groan into the single pillow they shared.

She could feel, more than hear, Matt’s chuckle. The man’s fingers curled so his nails grazed Y/N’s skin, and she couldn’t stop her spine from arching in response.

"So responsive." Matt murmured, gently brushing his nose against the ridge of Y/N’s cheekbone that remained exposed. "To every little thing. Aren’t you, sweetheart?"

The bite of Matt’s nails was replaced by a soothing stroke of his hand. There was a brief pause, then Matt cleared his throat.

"You doing alright there, Y/N?"

"Mmm." Y/N assented. "It’s just, uh..." She stammered as she forced herself to turn back to Matt with a tight smile. "Morning breath!" Her exclamation was likely more excited than such a topic warranted, but she was overjoyed to have found an excuse to rush off to the bathroom and deal with her, ah, situation in private. "Yeah, so I should probably-"

Matt grabbed a hold of Y/N’s wrists and easily flipped her onto her back. He towered over her, one knee settling between her spread legs. The grip on her wrists was limp, and Y/N could have easily pulled away; yet her mind was overcome with tantalizing images of Matt’s fingers biting into her flesh and mercilessly pinning her into the mattress.

"Think a little morning breath is going to stop me?" Matt teased, leaning forward to cover Y/N’s mouth in an exaggeratedly sloppy kiss, his tongue worming its way between her lips.

"Mmf." Y/N groaned half-heartedly in mock protest as she twisted in the man’s grip.

Matt’s mouth was warm and wet, and any concerns of morning breath - or her own arousal - slipped out of mind as she lost herself in the sleepy haze of an early morning make-out. One of Matt’s hands twisted in her hair, with soothing strokes that eased into gentle tugs; the other hand stroked Y/N’s side, squeezed her hip, and rubbed her belly. Y/N’s own hands, now free from being pinned, remained pressed into the mattress. Her arms felt weak with sleep, even as her fingers twitched to mimic Matt’s touch - she longed to know if a sharp tug on Matt’s hair would, too, send a shiver down the man’s spine, whether she would feel a hardened cock against her thigh if she pressed down on the small of Matt’s back.

The last question, at least, was answered for her as Matt pulled away from Y/N’s mouth with a heavy sigh, his eyes darting between her parted lips and half-lidded gaze. As he dropped his head to Y/N’s throat instead, wetting the sensitive skin there with open-mouthed kisses, he shifted his weight to rest more heavily atop the girl. Y/N moaned, utterly unabashed, the back of her head digging further into her pillow as she felt Matt’s hips press into hers.

Fingers pulling Y/N’s hair into a sharp twist, Matt groaned; the rough sound caught in the man’s throat, coming out more like a growl.

"Y/N, sweetheart-" He grumbled, his kisses turning temporarily into stinging bites of teeth. Whatever it was meant to be - a command, or maybe a question - melted away, unspoken, as he continued a biting path along the girl’s collarbone and chest.

Y/N’s hands came alive, finally, muscles springing into action when Matt’s mouth closed around her nipple and gently sucked. She flailed for a second, her throat forming wordless sounds, before her hands finally settled on the man’s tensed biceps.

"Oh." She gasped, the foreign sensation sending her stomach into a jumble of knots.

Matt pulled off with a gentle smack, resting his chin on Y/N’s sternum as he smirked up at her.

"Should we continue where we left off last night?" His blue eyes tracked Y/N’s features, from her still-wet lips to her flushed cheeks and slightly furrowed brow.

Left off? Y/N wondered, though the thought was abruptly forgotten as her walls clenched in anticipation at just the memory of last night. Her eager nods elicited a soft chuckle from Matt, who pressed a kiss to Y/N’s gently heaving chest before pushing up onto his elbows.

"What do you normally use?" He leaned across the bed, a whoosh of cool air hitting Y/N’s torso at the loss of body heat.

Before Y/N could even fathom the question, Matt yanked open the top drawer of the nightstand - how he knew it would be there, Y/N had no idea. Clicking his tongue, he glanced back over his shoulder at the girl, a single brow raised as he slowly shook his head.

"Sweetheart, this just won’t do."

"I-it works fine!" Y/N protested, sitting up in a panic as Matt stood from the bed. Her immaturity felt so stark all of a sudden, with her baby oil and arousal and lack of experience. It wasn’t like it made all that much difference, if her mom pulled out the drawer and saw baby oil instead of real lube, it’s not like she wouldn’t know what Y/N used it for.

Not that she looked through her things anyway; she had learned to trust a long time ago that the worst trouble Y/N could get herself into was pulling an all-nighter on Dress to Impress with her best friend that made her late for a uni class in the morning.

She had the urge to apologize, to come up with some excuse - my real lube just ran out, never mind that the bottle of baby oil was a few inches from empty - but she swallowed it down as the mattress shifted with the return of Matt’s weight.

"Good thing I always come prepared, huh?" The man said, grinning widely as he settled back on top of Y/N, one hand gripping a sleek black tube and a gold foil square. Y/N audibly swallowed, her gaze stuck on the little packet. "As much as I can with you, anyways." Matt muttered as he pressed a kiss to Y/N’s cheek.

"Huh?" Y/N questioned dumbly, forcing her eyes away from the condom to Matt’s gently smiling face.

"No one’s ever managed to make me feel so overwhelmingly unprepared." Matt explained softly, pressing another kiss to Y/N’s opposite cheek. "Even when I started building my future at seventeen." He continued, the bristles of his unshaved cheek scraping against Y/N’s skin as he leaned into the girl’s ear. "Never thought anything would scare me more than the thought of disappointing my brothers with our career."

The last part was such a soft whisper, Y/N wondered if she hadn’t misheard. She jerked back nonetheless, cupping Matt’s cheek and forcing his head up when the man tried to lean down once more.

"Matt." She murmured, too taken aback to say more. Matt looked anywhere but Y/N’s face, his jaw clenching and lips pursing as his shuttered gaze settled somewhere around Y/N’s shoulder. Y/N’s thumb lifted to stroke under the man’s eye, from the bottom end of his eyebrows to the undereye bags. "Thank you for telling me."

Matt glanced up at last, appearing almost startled before he relaxed into Y/N’s hold, allowing his head to tilt into the girl’s open palm as the two simply stared at each other. But the moment passed, inevitably, with Matt pressing a tender kiss to the heel of Y/N’s palm before shooting her a sly grin.

"Sorry, I’ve been informed that ranting about one's life isn't exactly sexy. Shall I try something else?"

"I don’t think you could do anything without b-being sexy." Y/N blurted out as Matt commenced with a rapid trail of kisses down the girl’s chest and stomach.

It was far from the appropriate thing to say- she was internally kicking herself, half-expecting Matt to recoil or admonish her. But, perhaps unsurprisingly, the man just chuckled before prodding his tongue into Y/N’s belly button.

"Oh Y/N, your flattery never fails to impress." He said, not unkindly, kissing lower and lower until his face hovered just above the girl’s panties. "I’d love nothing more than to taste more of you." He whispered, darting down to press his lips against the center of Y/N’s heat through the thin fabric. Y/N moaned, flopping down against the mattress as her hands fisted in the sheets. "But I really need to feel you all around me right now. What do you think?"

"I, uh- yes." Y/N agreed, eyes fluttering shut just at the sensation of his breath warming her through the cloth.

There was a chuckle, then the feeling of Matt’s nose and mouth and cheek rubbing against her covered clit.

"To which one, sweetheart?"

The girl groaned in frustration; it was cruel and unfair, the way Matt expected her brain and mouth to work together to answer a question even as the man pressed another kiss to the fabric, right where her wetness gathered.

"The, ah, I want to-" She broke off at another kiss. "Feel you inside me, please."

Matt hummed, pressing one last parting kiss to Y/N’s clothed core before crawling back up to her eye level.

"Good choice." He praised, enveloping the girl’s lips in a kiss. With his lips and tongue keeping Y/N woefully occupied, a large hand squeezed her hipbone before tugging at her panties. With a belated realization, Y/N wriggled her hips into the air to allow the fabric to be pulled off.

She could feel Matt’s eyes on her, staring at every new inch of flesh, and Y/N tried to distract herself by grabbing a fistful of the forgotten blanket and flinging it over their forms.

She didn’t miss Matt’s gentle headshake, but at least the man didn’t say anything. Besides, any lingering self-consciousness was quickly quashed when Matt squirted some lubricant onto his fingers and, without much ceremony, pressed his hand against Y/N’s folds.

Y/N almost forgot there was a larger goal in mind here as she burrowed the side of her face into the pillow, hips squirming, toes curling into the sheet as she luxuriated in the sensation of rough, wet skin sliding against her.

"I could make you come just like this." Matt crooned, his tongue laving at the corner of Y/N’s open mouth. "Hell, you’d probably bounce back in under a minute." A chuckle was smothered against the girl’s cheek. "But I just can’t wait that long, dove."

Y/N hummed her agreement, eyes slipping shut as her jawline was peppered with kisses. She might have startled at the sensation of a finger prodding at her entrance, if not for Matt’s legs pinning hers down. The hand cupping her pussy tightened, Matt’s mouth sucking a bruise into the skin of her throat just shy of painful, as the finger pressed in. Y/N shifted minutely, brows tightening as she adjusted to the growing pressure.

"That’s good, so good." Matt encouraged as his finger pushed in, further and further, until Y/N could feel the back of the man’s other fingers pressed against her skin. Her hands felt empty so suddenly, unfulfilled by the clench of fabric under her skin; she reached out, clinging to Matt’s broad shoulders, feeling the muscle and bone shifting with every movement.

Peeling her eyes open, Y/N forced herself to turn her head forward. She was caught, instantly, by the intensity of Matt’s gaze. His cheeks were flushed, bottom lip caught between his teeth, brows pulled almost into a scowl as his eyes bore down into Y/N’s. The girl was forced to look away, couldn’t handle the way her lungs seemed to constrict when she met Matt’s gaze. Instead, she let her eyes roam over the man’s bare chest, one hand releasing Matt’s shoulder to trail after the path of her gaze.

She began shifting again as a second finger began its press inside, but she was soon distracted from the burning stretch by Matt’s mouth on hers once more. It wasn’t long before two fingers pumped in and out of her, and Y/N’s whimpers morphed into throaty moans. Her hands, previously unsure of their place on Matt’s skin, clenched until her nails bit into the man’s flesh. Matt moaned his approval, followed by a third finger worming its way inside Y/N. It was the same as before, a stretch, a burn, and somehow Y/N’s body relaxed against the intrusion. She wondered, vaguely, if she had somehow lost count, not understanding how easy it seemed now, when last night, Matt’s thumb had seemed so overwhelming.

Matt’s hand, which had gradually slowed its jerky movements, came to a stop at Y/N’s core. She pulled away from Matt’s lips, whining.

"No, no, Matt-"

"Need your help, sweetheart." Matt interrupted. His chin jerked in the direction of the condom, still lying a few feet from them. "I’m afraid I’m... occupied at the moment." His words were accompanied by a wriggle of his fingers inside Y/N, nudging against something that had the girl crying out.

"O-okay." Y/N agreed as soon as her mouth could cooperate. She grabbed the foil packet and held it between them, fingers shaking slightly as she fumbled with the serrated edges.

"Careful, babe." Matt admonished gently. "Don’t rip it." His fingers kept up a gentle rhythm, though they seemed to almost purposefully avoid that spot he had hit earlier.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she carefully, too carefully ripped the packet open to reveal the translucent latex inside. She pulled the condom out, almost startled as her fingers rubbed against the unexpectedly slippery material.

Her eyes lifted from the condom to Matt’s face, her hand hovering between them. Matt huffed in amusement, darting down to press a quick kiss to the tip of Y/N’s nose.

"Think you can manage this part, sweetheart?"

Swallowing around the sudden dryness of her throat, Y/N nodded with forced confidence. She had somehow avoided seeing Matt’s cock until now- I mean, Matt had remained mostly dressed last night, and Y/N couldn’t even say when during their activities this morning Matt had shed the rest of his clothes, distracted as she had been by the man’s touch. But now her eyes traced downward, past Matt’s chest and the small trail of dark hair starting at the bottom of his belly and covering his groin.

Y/N licked her lips, her free hand reaching out to brush against the man’s hardened cock, just the barest graze of her fingertips along the shaft. She felt Matt’s shudder, all the way down to the fingers still inside her.

She quickly glanced up, half-worried, but was met with Matt’s eyes half-closed in pleasure.

"Time for that later, sweetheart." The man managed between clenched teeth. "C’mon."

Y/N tried her best to recall the sex ed classes she had when she was still in school; pinched the tip, rolled it down gently until it hit the base of Matt’s cock. She pulled away slightly, only to return her hand, squeezing her fingers around the condom-covered shaft. She gave a quick, slight pump, swelling with pride when the action was rewarded with a low moan. Y/N laughed, though it came out more like a shuddery exhale; she felt oddly empowered, despite how small her hand looked wrapped around Matt’s cock.

"Alright, alright." Matt grumbled, his gruff impatience belied by the strain in his voice. "You trying to make me beg, babe?"

Y/N’s walls fluttered at the mental image of the man above her begging, but before she could respond, Matt leaned down until his nose was smushed against the girl’s.

"Please, Y/N." He rasped, eyes wide and dangerously serious. "Will you let me fuck you, baby?"

"Ye-ah." Y/N’s voice cracked, because of course it did, but it didn’t matter, because suddenly Matt’s fingers were pulling out, only to be replaced by the blunt head of Matt’s cock. "Ah!" She hissed, fighting a grimace from the sharp stinging stretch.

One of Matt’s hands found hers, tacky with drying lube and her own wetness, but Y/N couldn’t care less, clinging desperately tight. Matt’s expression was the picture of barely held restraint, jaw muscles twitching against a painful clench.

"You-?"

"Yes!" Y/N exclaimed before Matt could even finish his question, one leg flinging over the back of Matt’s thigh to pull him closer. The pain was still there, aching and sharp, but she was overwhelmed by a deep-seated need to be filled.

She stretched her free arm across Matt’s back, fingers settling against the man’s tailbone to press him down further.

Soon, that inching inward press was replaced by a gentle back-and-forth motion.

"Fuck." Matt grunted, pressing his face into Y/N’s neck. The word was punctuated by a more forceful thrust, one that had the muscles of her lower abdomen clenching as heat spread through her stomach.

"Yes." She gasped again, followed unthinkingly by. "Harder, daddy."

Matt’s entire body froze, hips immediately halting mid-thrust as his head lifted, mouth almost comically agape.

"What did you just say?" He demanded lowly, the fingers cradling Y/N’s hand tightening until her bones crushed together.

"I, ah-" Y/N floundered for a moment as her brain struggled to catch up with her mouth. She was cajoled into speaking when Matt’s other hand, previously resting on the mattress somewhere near Y/N’s head, gripped her hipbone tight enough to bruise. The girl moaned, thrusting down onto the man’s cock in response. "Daddy." She moaned again, this time staring up into Matt’s eyes. "Harder, please, daddy, I-"

Y/N’s desperate pleas were cut off by a rough kiss, Matt’s teeth clanging painfully against hers with the voracity of it. Her hand was left throbbing against the sheet as Matt’s fingers twisted in her hair, yanking her head back even as his lips followed the movement. Y/N could scarcely even breathe, her mouth filled with Matt’s tongue and her nose partially blocked by Matt’s own.

And it felt amazing. Her remaining leg curled around Matt’s backside, ankles locking together and pressing downward. Her nails scraped along the man’s spine, while her free hand clutched at the hair on the back of Matt’s neck. A testing tug was rewarded by a sharp thrust of his hips, followed by a much harsher tug on her own hair.

Matt pulled away with one last bite to Y/N’s bottom lip.

"Don’t stop, don’t ever stop." Was all he managed to pant before covering Y/N’s cheek and jaw with sloppy, wet kisses.

The hand on her hip maneuvered Y/N until her lower back was slightly lifted from the mattress, then Matt drove forward once more. It had Y/N crying out hoarsely, her muscles clenching so tightly that she worried she was only a moment away from orgasm.

"God, sweetheart, I don’t even need to hold you back." Matt groaned in the girl’s ear. As if in response to Y/N’s thoughts, his fingertips pressed against her clit. "You’re gonna make me cum already."

Possibly intending to follow through on that thought, Matt’s hips snapped against Y/N’s hard enough to make the bed shake. He repeated the motion once, twice - each time to Y/N’s galvanizing cries - when a low croak came from below them.

She couldn’t be sure Matt had even heard anything, and Y/N herself paid it no mind; she was slick with sweat, and her ankles could barely stay twisted together behind Matt’s thighs. She squeezed her legs tighter, pulling Matt even deeper inside her, until her knees could almost touch. Her fingers were starting to grow tingly, and her body ached from emptiness for the few short seconds Matt would pull back.

And then suddenly she fell- they both did.

Not their whole bodies, just their midsections, as a section of the mattress lurched toward the floor. It was only by a few inches, but the momentum had Matt slamming into her on the painful side of rough.

"Shit!" Y/N exclaimed, glancing around wildly as it took her a moment to realize a piece of wood in her bed frame must have broken.

"You okay?" Matt demanded, the fingers in Y/N’s hair gentling to a soothing stroke. "Did I hurt you, sweetheart?"

Y/N could feel the man starting to pull out, and her legs tightened in response.

"No, wait, let’s just- ’m so close, Matt, please."

Matt licked his lips, eyeing the mattress in consideration for the barest of seconds before nodding in agreement.

"You’re fucking wild, babe." He muttered, before gently working his hips once more.

"Only ‘cause of you." Y/N murmured in response, lifting her head to muffle Matt’s responding groan with a kiss.

Their newfound position meant Matt’s stomach and pelvis pressed much more closely against Y/N’s, rubbing her clit between their sweat-slick skin. The friction made her toes curl, pressing into the flesh of Matt’s thighs and silently encouraging him to go faster, harder. Neither of them had a wit between them to care for the complaining creaks from below, or the way they sank deeper and deeper toward the floor.

There was a thrust, then Matt ground his hips into Y/N in a short, jerky circle, and that press of Matt’s cock inside her had Y/N crying out, a weakening numbness spreading through her limbs as her belly clenched and spasmed.

"Fuck... yeah, Y/N." Matt grunted between harsh, faltering thrusts. The girl struggled to see past the waves of her orgasm; she was distantly aware of Matt’s hand slipping between them, his callused fingertips trailing through the moisture trapped between their lower stomachs from all the movement.

Matt came soon afterward, with a hoarse, drawn-out groan he buried in Y/N’s shoulder. She was all too aware she had come three times, now, in her boyfriend’s arms, and yet she could barely summon the physical might to twitch her fingers, much less tip Matt’s face toward her so she could gawk at him. But any vague disappointment was quickly forgotten when Matt began to pull out, and as delicate as he tried to be, Y/N’s face scrunched up at the stinging burn of it.

Matt kissed her, with gentle presses of his lips, until the sensation abated and Y/N could relax once more.

"Said something about breakfast, sweetheart?"

© vanteguccir

Bizarre Love Triangle

pairing: guitarist!matt x singer!reader x drummer!chris

➟ requested 💿˚｡𖦹☆°‧⋆

➟ genre: smut/angst

chapters: | 𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓼𝓸𝓸𝓷...

series summary: being in a successful rock band is all you've ever wanted. after years of self-production and practicing in the garage, you, matt, and chris finally go on your first tour. as good as life is on the road, tensions arise when you find yourself in the middle of a bizarre love triangle.

extras:

he has a king kong dick.

video: deaf, mute and blind. (two times)

ⓘ bsf!dom!nick x male!reader, mentions of homophobia, smut, spitting, frotting (iykyk), risky/almost getting caught, nick talks you through it

summary: while on a camping trip with the triplets, you and nick find yourselves alone by the campfire, spilling your secrets and entertaining fantasies you never thought you would . . .

moodboard

dividers by @/uzmacchiato

ᯤ spotify ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။|||| fire for you - cannons

❛ INSTAGRAM STORIES ⸝⸝ ♯FRATBOY!MATT & CONFIDENT!READER .ᐟ

authors note. reader has no set face claim as always. this has taken me way too long to create from scratch so if you notice any mistakes, don't tell me. turn a blind eye. i'll genuinely crash out hahaha.