cappy's anon

you: you busy?

matt: I’m home now but going out to meet the guys in like 40

you: :/ boo

matt: I’d say I’d come over after but idk how late that would be

you: nah nah ur good. have fun!

matt: Use your little friend

matt: I know it’s not as good as me but I’m sure it’ll still do the trick

You stare at the screen for a second, a dry, half-amused laugh escaping you. You’re lying in your bed in just an oversized shirt and panties, the dull ache between your legs—the reason you’d texted him in the first place—making you restless. Odds are, you probably will be reaching for the toy any minute now since your booty call attempt was fruitless, but you don’t have to give Matt the satisfaction of thinking it was his idea.

you: gee thanks for the tip LOL

you: i can take care of myself matt don’t worry

matt: Ouuu ok so fingers?

matt: Still won’t feel as good as mine but again I’m sure they’ll do the trick

you: no. don’t worry as in go get ready for ur plans loser

matt: I’m already ready. Now I’m just sitting here with time to kill and thinking about you alone in your apartment with your hand between your legs

matt: Are you in your bed right now?

you: so what, we sext now? is that what i’m gathering from this?

matt: Why not

matt: Stop deflecting

you: yes matthew i’m in my bed

You can almost see the arrogant smirk on his face as the typing bubbles appear again.

matt: Poor thing stuck there without me

matt: You got your toy out yet?

you: omg matt.

matt: What? Just trying to make sure you’re taken care of

you: again, don’t need you for that

matt: But I make it better

you: debatable

matt: The mouthier you get the more I wish I was there

matt: If you get yourself off so much better than I do, why don’t you show off for me then?

you: you can’t be serious

matt: Of course I am

you: you’re about to go out

matt: In like 30 minutes

matt: Or is that not enough time for you to make yourself come?

matt: If I was there I definitely wouldn’t need 30 minutes…

you: you’re very persistent

matt: Because I know you

matt: I know how you get

you: and how do i get?

matt: Impatient

matt: A little needy

matt: Pretending you’re not

you: needy… says the one begging me to touch myself right now

matt: I’m helping

matt: You should take advantage now before I’m gone for the night

matt: Come on I know you love how I talk you through it

You hesitate, your heart giving a stupid little thump against your ribs as you consider it. It doesn’t take long for you to decide that your horniness outweighs your desire to not let him win. You roll your eyes as you swallow your pride and click open your camera.

you: [Photo] Your shirts pushed up to your ribs, the toy resting right against the curve of your hip. Your legs are spread wide, panties still on, the duvet rumpled beneath you.

you: you better not bail on me halfway through

Your phone buzzes again almost immediately.

matt: Relax I wouldn’t

matt: [Photo] A shot of his lap. He’s sitting on his couch, legs spread wide and one hand resting heavy on his thigh. You immediately spot the tell-tale pull of denim where his crotch is already reacting to the conversation.

matt: Slide your hand under your waistband

You do as he says, fingers sliding under the lace of your panties and making contact with your slick folds. You’re already drenched, the cool of your own touch making your hips give a small twitch.

you: i’m wet

matt: Good

matt: Start with just your fingers

matt: Not inside yet. Tease yourself a little

you: [Video] A shot of your hand moving under your waistband, the lace pulled tight against your knuckles as your fingertips glide along your slit.

It takes him less than 30 seconds to respond.

matt: Fuck

matt: [Photo] A shot of his lap. He’s still on the couch, but his jeans are unzipped now and shoved down past his hips. His hand is wrapped around the base of his cock, the veins in his forearm on full display. His cock is full and flushed, with a tiny bead of precum glistening at the tip.

You instantly picture his thumb dragging through it.

matt: Can I see? Panties off?

You kick them off and shift your weight, spreading your legs a bit more to give him the view he wants.

you: [Photo] A close-up shot of you using your fingers to spread your folds for him, your hole glistening and inviting.

matt: Fuck ok put a finger inside

You slide one finger past your entrance, a soft sigh escaping you at the intrusion. You begin with a slow, steady pace, your breath stuttering as you watch the typing bubbles appear and disappear on your screen.

matt: Tell me how it feels

you: good

you: not enough

matt: Wish I was there to fill u up

matt: Stroking myself and imagining I’m inside u rn

matt: Add another finger

matt: Wanna see u stretch urself a little

You huff a shaky breath, doing exactly what he says. You add a second finger, the feeling of being filled—even just a little—making you ache for the real thing.

you: [Video] Your middle and index fingers are stroking deep, your wrist moving as you curl them inside of you. You’re letting out short, catching breaths as your hips roll into your hand, chasing the friction.

matt: Fuck Y/N

matt: Ur dripping

matt: [Video] He’s stroking himself, his movements steady, starting out slow. His hand lingers at the top and you can hear his breath hitch as his thumb flicks over the ridge under the head before circling his slit, spreading the precum there.

You bite your lip, warmth rushing through your veins.

you: such a pretty cock matt

matt: Jesus

matt: Tit pic?

you: you first

matt: [Photo] A shot of his torso. His shirt is pulled up to his chin, most likely held in place by his teeth.

Your eyes flick over the hard lines of his abs and his chest, the faint trail of hair along his sternum and the sharp curve of his collarbone.

matt: Ur turn

you: [Photo] Your shirt is pulled all the way up to reveal your chest, a soft flush gracing your skin. Your nipples are peaked and hard, boobs swaying slightly with your movements as you arch into your own touch, chest rising and falling with shallow, uneven breaths.

matt: Fuck

matt: Play with ur nips

matt: Pretend its my tongue swirling

matt: Ur so fuckinf hot

matt: [Video] His fist is flying over his cock in a fast, punishing rhythm. You can hear the sounds of spit-slicked skin on skin and his jagged breathing.

you: you look like ur about to come and im not even close yet

you: dont be mean

you: thought u were here to ‘help’

matt: Fuck

matt: Sry sweetheart

matt: Toy on ur clit but dont turn on yet

You roll your eyes but indulge him, reaching for the toy and settling the opening right over your aching bundle of nerves.

you: [Photo] A close-up shot of the toy held steady against your clit.

matt: Good girl

matt: K turn it on. Lowest setting. Send a vid wanna hear u when u start

you: [Video] The camera captures your hand clicking the button. You let out a soft, delicate moan as the suction hits you, your whole body tensing and your hips arching just slightly off the duvet.

Your eyes flutter shut as you hold the toy steady.

matt: So sexy

matt: Soumd so pretty fuck

matt: Turn it up

You click the button again, the rhythm sharpening. The suction is relentless, coiling everything tight in your lower belly until your heels are digging into the mattress as you chase the sensation.

you: [Video] A close-up of the toy still against you, your hole clenching around nothing as a low, needy sound catches in your throat.

matt: [Video] A shot of his lap, the angle slightly unsteady. His fist is still racing over his cock, thigh muscles tensed as his hips struggle to stay still against the sofa. His breaths are coming quickly, a couple groans cutting through the sound of his panting.

matt: Gonna come

matt: Keep going

matt: Finger with other hand

matt: Wanna hear u come

You obey, resting your phone on your chest and setting it to record audio. You slip two fingers past your entrance, curling them as the toy keeps up its frantic pulse on your clit.

you: [Audio message] The audio catches all your frantic breaths and soft sounds, mixed with the mechanical hum of the toy in the background. You murmur his name—almost a moan. You tell him how you’re clenching around your fingers, then tell him you’re close a moment later. Within seconds, you keen high in the back of your throat as you come undone. A couple whines escape you as you ride it out, the toy still pulsing against your clit, before you finally power it off and the only sound left is you catching your breath before the recording ends.

matt: [Video] His hand strips his cock, pumping until white ropes spurt from his tip onto his stomach, some dripping onto his fingers as well. The camera shakes slightly as you hear him let out a deep, guttural groan. He continues to stroke himself slowly until he’s completely spent, his muscles gradually relaxing until he finally releases his grip. He drags his index finger through the mess on his stomach—undoubtedly for your benefit—as his breathing starts to level out.

matt: That was so hot

matt: See I have good ideas

you: [Photo] A close-up shot of your lips wrapped around your middle and index fingers.

matt: You’re a fucking menace u know that

you: i do xx

matt: I gotta go but I wanna see you before I leave Thursday

matt: I’ll text you tomorrow and we can figure it out

you: kk sounds good

you: enjoy ur night with the guys!

Matt: I’m here

You: i’ll buzz you up. door’s open

Matt’s been back in the city for less than twenty-four hours, so this is the first time your schedules have actually aligned over the past couple weeks.

You and Matt have been hooking up for a few months now. There’s a little history between you— you went to Boston College together, never super close but close enough. Same circles, a couple classes together. He was always nice, easy to be around, well-liked. The kind of guy that people never had anything bad to say about. 

He’d left after sophomore year to play for the Wild, and you graduated two years later then ended up in Minnesota for work.

So when he messaged you on Raya a few months ago, it didn’t feel weird. 

It also didn’t take long to figure out you were both looking for the same thing: no strings, no expectations. Matt had just gotten out of a serious relationship and is constantly on the road for hockey, and you weren’t exactly rushing to start anything either after how your last relationship ended. 

So this just… works. 

Back in college, Matt had hooked up with your friend Emma a handful of times. She’d always had good things to say— he was a good lay, among other talents, but also just… decent. Not an asshole.

You’d seen that yourself, too. You remember one night at a frat party— Emma had gone off with Matt, and then not long after, he came and found you, bringing her to you before running off to find her a bottle of water. She’d told you that they had been making out, about to hookup, and she’d changed her mind, the drinks suddenly starting to hit her. She said Matt had stopped immediately, asked if she thought she was gonna be sick, and when she said no, he insisted on helping her find her friends and making sure she was alright. 

It was the bare minimum, but unfortunately also more than you could expect from most drunk college guys. That memory stuck with you, and it definitely helped make Matt feel like a safe enough person to end up in this kind of arrangement with. 

And a few years in the NHL doesn’t seem to have changed him. He’s still that same, decent guy. He got tested before you started hooking up so that he could assure you he was clean, yet he’s still never once asked to get inside you without a condom. He’s only looking for something physical, and he doesn’t pretend otherwise, but he also doesn’t treat you like the arrangement reduces you to just that. He respects you, treats you like a person without blurring the lines. And the sex is good, because he doesn’t treat it like it’s just about him getting off and getting out— he makes sure it’s good for you both, never selfish about it. 

Again, bare minimum, but still more than you’d expect from most men. 

You pause the TV when you hear him enter your apartment. 

“Hey,” he calls, kicking off his shoes. 

“Hey. Did you bring food?” you ask, not moving from your spot on the couch.

Your eyes land on him as he rounds the corner. He’s halfway out of his jacket, hair slightly mussed from the beanie in his hand, cheeks pink from the cold. You immediately notice that he got a haircut, but you don’t comment just yet. 

Matt pauses there, making a face as he watches you— amused, but also like you’ve asked him something obvious.

“You didn’t ask for food,” he points out. 

This is true, you didn’t ask for anything, but it wouldn’t be the first time Matt showed up with food unprompted. 

You sigh dramatically. “I shouldn’t have to,” you reply, only half serious.

Matt laughs, turning to hang up his coat. “That’s crazy.”

“You’re rich. The least you could do is bring a girl dinner when you’re coming over for sex.”

He shakes his head, smiling to himself as he walks over and opens your fridge. 

“You’ve got options in here.”

“Ingredients,” you correct.

He glances at you over his shoulder, amusement in his features. “Should I be worried about your blood sugar or something? You’re not gonna pass out on me, are you?”

You groan. “Ugh, no, Matthew.”

He grabs himself a Diet Coke and closes the fridge before leaning back against the counter and cracking open the can, still smirking at you. “Just say the word next time. I’m not that hard to persuade.”

You huff in lieu of a response and he chuckles. “I’m serious. I would have brought something if you asked. We can still order food if you want. I’ll pay.”

“It’s fine,” you mumble.

“You sure? You’re not gonna need to tap out mid-way for a snack break?” he jokes.

You roll your eyes and he laughs, pushing off the counter and coming to stand closer to the couch. “What are you watching?”

“The Pitt. There’s 15 minutes left,” you say, glancing 

 at him as though it was a question.

“Carry on,” he says easily. “I’m not in a rush.”

You glance around your apartment then, seeing it from his perspective— the coffee table cluttered with half-finished drinks, hoodies thrown over various pieces of furniture, unopened packages sitting on the counter.

“Sorry that my place is a mess, by the way.”

“It’s not a mess,” he says, sipping his soda and looking around as though the sentiment hadn’t even occurred to him. 

“Right,” you huff a laugh. “Well, I’m still sorry.”

“Doesn’t bother me,” he assures you, plopping down on the couch beside you. “Chaotic apartment, allegedly no food… Long week?” he deduces.

“You have no idea.”

“Need to vent?”

You wave a dismissive hand, gesturing vaguely. “Not worth recapping. Just busy, mostly.” 

Busy is an understatement. Work’s been relentless lately— tight deadlines, back-to-back meetings, the kind of week where you’re answering emails off the clock and still somehow barely staying on top of everything. But after such a long week, the last thing you want to do is spend your free time talking about how hectic it was. 

Thankfully, Matt doesn’t push the subject. But now you notice the faint bags under his eyes, and the way he’s settled so quickly into the couch as if he wants to sink into the cushions. 

“You look tired,” you say dryly.

He huffs a laugh. “Appreciate that,” he muses. “Road trip was a grind.”

“How’d it go?” you ask, more sincere now.

“Got some points,” he says. “But the schedule was rough. Five games in nine nights, plus travel every day. It catches up to you.”

You hum. “Yeah, that sounds brutal.”

He rolls his neck once. “The flight home didn’t help either. We were stuck on the tarmac for like two hours before we even took off.”

“Jeez, really?”

He nods. “Didn’t sleep on the plane, got home super late and finally crashed, then slept half the day away today without meaning to. Now I’ve felt, like, groggy all day.”

“That your way of telling me I shouldn’t expect much of a performance?” you tease.

His shoulders shake with a laugh. “Shut up. I’ll be fine.”

You smirk faintly. 

“You cut your hair,” you finally remark.

Matt glances at you, instantly catching the tone— less than impressed.

“When I saw you two weeks ago you said I looked like a bum,” he points out, amused.

“Well, yeah,” you say like it’s obvious. 

His hair had been grown out and shaggy, hanging out of his ballcap in a way that… certainly didn’t suit him. Now it’s definitely much cleaner cut, but trimmed past that length where it still sits a little loose, the front pieces framing his face. 

“But this is, like... a lot shorter,” you continue. “I think you overcorrected.”

Matt breathes a laugh through his nose. “You’re so mean to me,” he jests. “Do I need to fuck some manners into you?”

You snort— immediate, and anything but subtle. 

A slightly affronted laugh escapes him. “Alright, it wasn’t that funny.”

You ignore this, already sliding closer and reaching out to card your fingers through the freshly cut locks. 

“You’re very hands-on for someone who just insulted me,” he quips, but makes no move to stop you.

“I’m evaluating,” you tell him, undeterred. 

You continue for a few moments. Your fingers move through it slowly, feeling the shorter length, pushing it back, then forward again. The front pieces still end up resting perfectly no matter how you move it. Matt’s always had nice hair— Prince Charming hair, as you’d called it once, half-mocking. 

Even if his hair’s shorter than how you prefer it, Matt is still annoyingly handsome. 

“It’s still an improvement,” you concede, hands dropping back into your lap. 

His lips twitch. “Don’t worry. It’s still long enough for you to tug on when I’m making you come.”

You roll your eyes but barely fight off a smile. “You’re so full of yourself.”

“You could be full of me if you quit stalling,” he replies, not missing a beat. 

You press your lips together, doing your best not to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. 

“15 minutes,” you remind him, gesturing to the TV.

“Well then press play, you goof,” he says, nudging your knee with his. 

“Yeah, I should hurry before you fall asleep on my couch,” you mumble, reaching for the remote.

Matt laughs softly, catching your ankle and dragging your legs into his lap.

When the credits roll, Matt doesn’t waste any time. He leans in, his nose brushing against your jaw before his lips find the sensitive skin of your neck. His hand slides under the hem of your sweatshirt, his palm warm and calloused as it flatters against the skin of your stomach, roaming upward. You hum, turning into him and catching his lips with yours. 

Matt immediately deepens the kiss, licking into your mouth as he shifts closer, pressing you into the corner of the couch. You reach down, palming him over his sweats, and he groans softly into your mouth, grip tightening on your waist. His mouth continues to move against yours as you stroke his member through the fabric, savouring the feeling of him swelling to fill your grasp. 

You continue like that for a few minutes until he pulls back, breathing a bit harder now. Then before you know it, he’s standing and picking you up, tossing you over his shoulder like it’s nothing.

“Um— woah,” you laugh.

“Still think I’m too tired?” he says, giving your ass a playful swat.

He marches into your bedroom and tosses you onto the mattress. You bounce slightly, grinning up at him as he pulls his shirt over his head. 

“Should probably also mention that I didn’t shave my legs,” you tell him, beginning to strip yourself.

Matt laughs like that’s a very silly thing to warn him about. “I don’t care if you shave.”

He’s already kicked his sweats off, standing by the edge of the bed in just his boxers while you’re lying atop the duvet in just your underwear, watching him. He looks solid, the light from your lamp catching the lean muscle of his shoulders and the prominent veins in his forearms.

He opens your nightstand drawer in search of a condom, but his hand pauses mid-reach. He hums, a low, delighted little vibration in his chest as his fingers hook around something that definitely wasn’t there two weeks ago. 

“What’s this?” he asks. 

He doesn’t wait for a response, already pulling it out and turning it over in his hand with a playful, lopsided smile. It’s not the familiar blue bullet he’s used on you before. This is different— a bit bigger, baby pink, and slightly curved with a round silicone opening at one end. He holds down the power button and something flickers behind his eyes as the toy comes to life. It doesn’t buzz— it makes a sort of soft, rhythmic thwip-thwip sound. He brushes his thumb over the opening and feels the pull of suction against his skin. Matt’s brows lift, clearly interested.

“A little upgrade, huh?” He steps closer to the bed, the toy still humming in his palm as he looks down at you. “You been holding out on me?”

“Maybe,” you reply. “It’s more efficient than you are sometimes.”

“Is that right?” Matt tosses the toy onto the duvet beside you and climbs onto the bed, looming over you with that familiar smug glint in his eyes. 

“You’re full of shit,” he murmurs as he begins to mouth over your throat. “You want me to eat you out, baby? Is that it?”

“You’re projecting,” you retort. “And don’t call me baby.”

Matt grins into your skin. “Admit it. You miss my mouth when I’m on the road. Your fancy new toy can’t compare.”

He’s not entirely wrong. Matt’s mouth is a dream. Emma had told you as much in college, but even her words of approval couldn’t have prepared you for just how incredible he is at giving head— easily the best head you’ve ever gotten. And what makes it infuriating is that he knows he’s good at it. So there’s no way you’re going to give him the satisfaction of admitting that right now.

“Funny— sounds more like you’re trying to talk me into it,” you retort. “Desperation doesn’t suit you, Matt. If you want to go down on me, no one is stopping you.”

Your breath hitches as he nips at your pulse point in retaliation for the sassy remark. He takes the bait though— doesn’t say anything else, just kisses his way down your body until he’s positioned between your thighs, flat on his stomach and immediately hooking your knees over his broad shoulders.

He lowers himself to your core and drags his tongue over your panty-covered folds, mostly looking to get a rise out of you. He smirks when he hears you stifle a tiny sound of annoyance, then he slides your panties down your legs, blindly tossing them somewhere on the duvet. 

He leans right back in, his breath now finally fanning your bare cunt as goosebumps erupt on your skin in anticipation. His tongue darts out to trace your slit and your hips give an involuntary little jump. Matt makes a low, muffled sound against you that tells you he’s in no rush. He’s never been the type to treat eating you out like a chore; he always settles in like he’s got nowhere else to be.

He starts out slow, every movement intentional, like he’s mapping you out with the tip of his tongue as though he and your pussy aren’t already very well acquainted. His tongue glides through your folds, occasionally prodding at your entrance before swiping further up to find your clit. He laves over the peak, delivering delicate flicks and licks before dipping lower once more, content to let your ache for friction simmer. 

Matt’s touch deepens as he settles in and feels you starting to melt under into the sheets, breathy sighs slipping past your lips. He’s lapping at your heat with languid figure eights and sloppy french kisses, almost like he’s making out with your cunt. Each pass of his tongue sends fresh sparks through you, fiery heat spreading through every nerve. His nose provides just enough friction to your clit to keep you wound tight every time his tongue drives back down to trace around your hole.

His large hands keep your legs spread for him, his fingers digging into the meat of your thighs to keep you anchored while he works. He isn’t being delicate– his face is buried at the juncture of your thighs, his nose and chin covered in your slick as he devours you. He swirls his tongue around your clit a few more times before finally plunging it inside you.

“Matt,” you gasp, fingers threading through his hair at the intrusion. 

He just hums against you, the vibration rattling through your pelvis as he begins dragging his tongue against your walls. He thrusts it inside of you, working the muscle in and out at a pace that quickly has you rolling your hips against his face, as though it might help him reach even deeper. It’s not long before he draws back in favour of filling you with two thick fingers, immediately flexing them, getting you nice and open for his cock. He presses his tongue to your clit, letting you rut against the muscle while his fingers work, curling against your front wall in a way that has your thighs tensing, your sighs turning to moans. 

Matt’s relentless, his breathing growing heavier as he feeds off your reactions. Every time your hips shift, he grips your thighs tighter, keeping you pinned in place while he works you toward the edge.

His fingers bully the sweet, spongy spot deep inside you as his tongue slips between them, the muscle driving in and out while his nose bumps against your swollen bud with every stroke. You mewl, the sensation leaving you lightheaded, your high just within reach as you tug at his hair and press further into him. 

Your lips are parted, eyes hooded as you chase your release, and Matt doesn’t let up– he stays perfectly steady as your pussy clamps around him. When your hips start to writhe against him, he withdraws his tongue and seals his lips around your clit, sucking with more fervour than before, and that’s when the tension finally snaps. Your back arches off the bed, thighs locking around his head as a broken moan punches from your throat. His mouth and his fingers continue working in tandem as your pleasure crests, only easing up when the overstimulation begins to set in and you’re whining, hips shifting away from the intensity. 

He pulls back finally, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he glances up at you. He looks satisfied, propping himself up on his elbows and watching you try to catch your breath.

“How’s that for efficiency?” he breathes, voice a little rough around the edges.

You roll your eyes but just like before, he doesn’t wait for a response, instead reaching over and picking up the pink toy again, turning it on and watching intently as the motor sends that low, rhythmic thrum through his palm.

“Can I use this on you while you ride me?” he asks, glancing up at you. 

You huff a tiny laugh at his eagerness. “Need to speed things up ‘cause you know you’re only gonna last thirty seconds after your little roadtrip?” you goad.

“Ohho,” he laughs, a sharp, genuine sound of amusement. “I like it when you’re mouthy.”

“Just trying to manage my expectations,” you quip. 

He switches off the toy and settles on the mattress beside you, already shoving off his boxers. “So that a yes?” he asks.

You pick up the toy and hand it to him, giving him a look that’s filled with mock exasperation. Matt grins, resting it on his sternum before reaching for a condom and tearing the packet open with his teeth. He moves quick, rolling it on without ceremony and then guiding you to straddle him with wide, calloused palms anchored firmly on your hips. 

His cock is thick and solid, feeling like he’s splitting you open as you finally sink down. You let out a long, shaky breath as you settle fully in his lap, the weight of the two-week absence hitting you all at once.

“Fuck, you feel amazing,” Matt breathes.

Your walls flutter around him at his words, making his jaw tick, but he doesn’t rush you. He just watches, eyes dark and fixed on your face as you take a second to adjust.

You finally start to move with a slow, deliberate grind that has Matt’s jaw tightening again. His thumbs dig into the dip of your waist, guiding the tilt of your pelvis with each delicious roll of your hips.

You lean forward, resting your weight on your hands against his chest, feeling the frantic thud of his heart against your palms.

After a few minutes of just the steady, blunt heat of him moving inside you, that familiar coil in your lower belly starts to pull tight.

Matt reaches for the pink toy resting on his sternum and clicks it on, the quiet thwip-thwip starting up again. 

Your pulse spikes just hearing the sound.

He doesn’t go for the main event yet; instead, he brings the silicone mouth to one of your boobs, the targeted vacuum latching onto your nipple. The added stimulation sends a fresh rush of pleasure through you that has you gasping. Matt moves the toy to the other side, his gaze fixed on the way your chest heaves. 

“Shit,” you breathe, voice breaking as your nails dig into his skin. The combination of the toy pulling at your peak and the heavy drag of him against your walls has you reeling— not to mention the way his pelvis nudges your clit with every roll of your hips. 

Matt doesn’t answer, his own breath coming in short, ragged bursts as he finally moves the toy down, settling the opening over your clit. He keeps it on the lowest setting, the soft pulses of air hitting you in a way that’s completely different from your Vibe. It’s a sharp, electric pull that has your body pulling taut, a low moan caught in the back of your throat. 

“Good?” he prompts, eliciting a frantic nod in response. 

Matt watches the way your back arches, his expression focused.

“You like this more than the blue one?” he asks, his voice sounding rougher, strained.

“It’s... different,” you gasp, your head tipping back as your lips part in a ragged sigh. Your hips make a small, involuntary hitch, trying to press harder against the source of the suction.

“Good different,” he decides, his pupils blown as he watches you.

He shifts his thumb to click the + button once, then again like an afterthought. 

The suction sharpens, the pulses turning into a rapid, insistent staccato that has your cunt clenching around him. You let out a high, broken sound, your rhythm stuttering for a second before your hips pick up a more frantic pace.

You’re moving faster now, chasing the sensation, your breath coming in short, high-pitched hitches and shaky moans.

Matt’s watching the way your eyes lose focus, the way your teeth catch your bottom lip, and he thrusts his hips up to meet you, reaching deeper and punching the air from your lungs. The combination of the rhythmic air pulses and the blunt, heavy grind of him inside you is too much. You’re shaking, your hands clutching at his sweat-slicked skin as you chase your peak, your movements becoming more and more frantic.

“That’s it,” he rasps. “Fuck. I’m close. You—?”

You nod frantically, lip still between your teeth. 

“Hold this,” he instructs quickly, shifting his wrist to hand you the toy without pulling it from your clit. 

You obey, holding the toy steady as he now has both hands clamped on your hips in a deathgrip. He’s pulling you down hard as he fucks up into you, meeting you halfway. 

Your view only adds to the heat building inside you— the sight of his biceps rippling every time he yanks you down, and how his abs flex with every heavy upward thrust. He looks wrecked, his brows furrowed and his mouth hanging open as he fights to keep his composure, his teeth occasionally catching his lower lip as he drives into you.

His movements grow rough, more desperate, the wet, slapping sound of skin on skin punctuating every harsh thrust. The world around you narrows down to the place where you’re joined and the relentless thrum of the toy on your bundle of nerves, your vision blurring around the edges. 

Matt’s jaw is clenched, his features contorted as he keeps up his punishing rhythm. It doesn’t take long until your body goes rigid, your walls spasming around him as a keening sound breaks from the back of your throat and you tip over the edge. 

Matt follows almost immediately after, shuddering below you with a low groan as he spills into the condom. His knuckles have gone white where he’s still got a hold on your hips, and his jaw remains locked as he drives into you a few more times, his hips jerking with the force of his release until he finally stills beneath you. 

You collapse forward, your forehead dropping into the crook of his neck as your muscles turn to jell-o. You’re completely spent, weight sinking fully into him as your heart hammers frantically against his chest.

For a long moment, the only sound in the room is the heavy, synchronized sound of your breathing and the persistent, mechanical hum of the toy buzzing uselessly against the duvet where you’d tossed it as soon as the overstimulation became too much.

Matt exhales a long, ragged breath as he stares up at the ceiling, his chest still heaving. His hands move in smooth, absentminded circles over your hips, soothing the skin where his grip left faint red marks. A few moments pass like that before he collects the toy from your rumpled sheets and clicks it off. 

“That was..” he trails off, his voice a low rasp. 

You just hum in agreement. 

“Big fan of the new toy,” he declares. 

You huff a small laugh. “Glad you approve.”

Your limbs start to feel like your own again, so you push off his chest and shift off of him. The sensation of his softening cock slipping from your entrance has your hole feeling like it’s gaping. You land on your back beside him, staring at the ceiling, still feeling a little blissed out.

Matt doesn’t move to stop you or pull you back. He just watches you with hooded eyes for a beat before reaching down to deal with the condom.

“You good?” he asks, his voice still low and gravelly.

“Yeah,” you breathe, running a hand through your hair and glancing around for your shirt. 

“Wanna revisit my food offer?” he asks.

You glance at him knowingly, your mouth tugging up on one side. “You’re hungry now?”

“Kinda,” he says with an almost sheepish smile. 

You huff a laugh. “Sure.”

“Round two while we wait?” he proposes, gaze dropping to your chest for just a split second.

“I’m pretty sure if you go anywhere near my clit in the next, like, 15 minutes, I’m going to burst into flames,” you quip. 

Matt chuckles easily. 

“I’ll blow you though,” you offer. “Then round two after we eat— if your dick still works by then, that is.”

You’re in that drowsy state between waking and sleep. Aware enough to register Matt arriving home and coming through the bedroom door, but too sleepy to manage more than a quiet hum that vaguely resembles ‘hi’ as a greeting.

What feels like only a second later, cold hands slide under the covers and settle on your stomach. 

You startle, the icy touch sending a literal jolt through your body. “Jesus—Matt.”

He huffs a quiet laugh into your shoulder, already settling in behind you. “Relax. You’re warm.” A soft kiss lands on your neck. “Hi,” he whispers. 

“That’s not an invitation,” you reply, forgoing a proper greeting. 

“Can’t help myself,” Matt teases, shifting closer. “You’re just too warm.” His hands stay put on your middle, unapologetic.

“You could also try keeping all your limbs under the covers for once,” you retort, nudging his leg lightly with your foot through the covers. 

He snorts. “No,” he says without missing a beat. “No need. I’ve got my human heater right here.” 

Just as one of his hands slowly creeps higher up your side, he wedges an equally ice-cold foot— the one that’s actually under the covers— beneath your legs.

You swat at him. “Matt!”

“Shhh,” he shushes you through soft chuckles. He hooks his exposed leg over your blanketed lower half, pinning you gently in place. “I’m comfortable like this.”

You squirm slightly in his hold. “Your hands are actually ice. Are you kidding me?” 

Matt hums, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin like skate blades on ice. “I know. It’s, like, -20 out right now. It’s brutal.”

“I would have believed you without you shoving your icicle fingers under my shirt,” you chastise, though you fail to keep the faint trace of amusement out of your tone.

“Maybe this is my way of making sure you’re awake enough to cuddle me,” Matt jests. 

“Well I’m certainly awake.”

A pleased little sound escapes your boyfriend as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, his touch still freezing your ribcage. 

You really are wide awake now. It’s one of those situations where you slept just enough that being woken up for even a few minutes has erased any and all feelings of drowsiness. 

Once you accept that as your reality, it doesn’t take long for your mind to drift, a low, familiar awareness curling in your stomach. An awareness of his hands still on you, of his mouth ghosting over your skin every time he shifts, lips brushing just enough to be distracting. 

Your fingers find Matt’s hand, lingering there as a quiet warmth pools between your legs.

“I mean, if I’m awake now… you could at least make it worth my while,” you murmur. 

Matt huffs a laugh, smirk evident in his tone when he replies, “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say, your fingers gently circling his. “I can think of another way to warm your hands up. Put them to… better use.”

He chuckles low in his throat, fingers twitching against your stomach. “Is that so?”

You bite your lip, guiding his hand to your waistband. “Mhm. Could start here,” you murmur, his fingertips now hovering over your clothed core.

“Yeah?” he says, low, almost amused. “That what you want?”

You shift your hips into his hand instead of replying and he laughs. “Okay. Message received.”

His fingers dip beneath your sleep shorts and you gasp; the contrast between his cold touch and your own warmth waking every nerve, excitement buzzing beneath your skin.

Matt just hums, tracing over your folds, spreading them slightly and pressing softly against the wetness between them. “Already wet,” he observes, a small smirk tugging at his lips despite the slow, delicate way he’s touching you. 

You shiver as he explores, his middle finger dragging along your slit, gathering your slick and then teasing your hole. His thumb drifts idly, moving in slow, tentative passes over your clit, barely applying any pressure yet. You let out a soft sound, your hips tilting into his touch, eager for more.

Matt takes that as an invitation. He finally plunges a finger inside you and groans softly, like the sound was pulled out of him before he could stop it. “You’re right,” he tells you. “This is better.”

You sigh, tension leaking out of you as he begins to pump the digit inside you. Despite barely stretching you, the intrusion sends a tingle up your spine. Your boyfriend’s hands are very talented, which is evidenced by the way he’s already teasing your most sensitive spot, applying only enough pressure to make you grind into his palm. 

A satisfied hum sounds from him as he backs off slightly, continuing to feel you out. Matt never rushes your pleasure, always taking his time to let it build properly, savouring any opportunity to make you feel good. 

He returns his thumb to your clit, circling the bud with a little more intent now. His lips brush along your shoulder as warm waves of pleasure ripple through you. “You feel so good,” he breathes, pressing his finger deeper, each stroke carefully measured. “Bet you taste good, too.”

A sigh slips past your lips as your entrance flutters around him, an involuntary reaction to his words that brings a smile to his lips. “Mmm, yeah. Maybe I’ll have to get my mouth on you in the morning, hm?”

He slips a second finger inside you before you can reply, flexing them in tandem, finally offering you a little stretch. Your lashes flutter shut as the pads of his fingertips drag deliciously against your velvety walls. 

Matt’s attentive to your reactions, tracking every twitch of your hips, the small tremors in your thighs, the quiet gasps that escape you, and responding in kind. Every touch is designed to unravel you. 

He shifts slightly, adjusting his angle when you start to squirm. His fingers curl more confidently, sliding along your sensitive front wall, pressing upward just enough to make you clench around him again. 

“Matt,” you gasp, hips rolling to follow his touch.

“Mm, there it is,” he rasps. “Feel good?”

You nod, hips still chasing the friction.

“That’s it. Good girl,” he praises, voice roughening slightly.

He keeps his fingers moving in sync with your body, curling and scissoring, patiently letting your release build. His free hand shifts to palm one of your tits, thumb flicking over your hardened peak making you keen. 

Your fingers curl into the sheets. “More,” you instruct in a whisper. “Another finger.”

You feel Matt’s breath against your neck when he laughs. “Bossy,” he murmurs, dropping a lingering kiss to your shoulder. “My greedy girl. Missed you.”

You reply with a delicate moan as he obliges, the stretch from the extra digit exactly what you needed. Your hand finds his wrist and you tilt your hips, letting him push in a little deeper. Matt follows without hesitation, his touch molding to your body perfectly, matching the natural rhythm of your hips to guide you through the tension building in your core.

Your breaths come faster as his fingers continue their ministrations, pressing against the sensitive spot deep inside you that makes your breath hitch. He doesn’t let up when you arch against his hold. Instead, he doubles down, kneading your breast as his thumb circles your clit with just a little more pressure. 

Your thighs tremble, hips moving more frantically as your body spirals toward release. Matt stays patient, letting every last bit of pleasure wash over you until you’re practically bursting at the seams trying to contain it. 

“That’s it,” he murmurs between sloppy kisses to your neck. “Let go f’me.”

As if on command, your body pulls taut, shockwaves gripping your body as your orgasm tears through you. Matt keeps his fingers moving inside of you, gradually easing up until the last bit of the tension leaves your body and you melt back into him. He holds you close as your high finally crests, his palm now warm against your ribcage as he murmurs softly in your ear, telling you how good you were, how pretty you sounded when you came. 

When he finally withdraws his fingers from your warmth, he sucks them into his mouth, humming softly at the taste. 

“I like your ideas,” he murmurs as he wipes the slick digits on the sheets a moment later. “Big fan.”

You laugh lightly as he wraps you in his embrace once more. “I love you. Glad you’re home.” 

“Love you,” he echoes, punctuating the words with a kiss to your cheek. “Get some sleep, baby.”

“You don’t want me to..?” you trail off.

You’re pretty confident you felt him half-hard behind you earlier, sometime while his fingers were working their magic, though you don’t feel him now.

Matt breathes a quiet laugh into your hair, his voice low and rough in your ear. “Greedy and generous,” he compliments. “No, baby, that’s okay. I’m tired, and I think I’ve already stolen enough of your sleep for tonight.”

“Welcome…home…” you croak, half-asleep and snuggling into him.

He chuckles softly, catching a scent of your body wash before letting your body melt into his, the silence of the room comforting and what he needs after travelling. But what he really needs the most is you and he’s not ready to sleep yet, as if sleep will whisk you away before he gets to whisper his sweet words and tell you how he feels. 

He presses his lips to your head, feeling you smile against his chest and squeeze him tighter, “Sorry, baby. Missed you.”

A restlessness trembles through you, not enough that you spring to life but a warm feeling of excitement and joy that he’s home again. The realisation that you don’t have to imagine him next to you for a little while now, that he will be lying next to you at night again, that his hands will find their way back to your hips, his lips to your neck and that his voice will once again float around the apartment.

“Me too.” Your hand cups his cheek, cold under your warm palm and your thumb runs along his plump bottom lip, “You okay?”

He nods, “Tired but in one piece. Sorry for waking you.”

“S’kay. Gimme kiss.” You breathe, sliding your hand into his hair on his nape, leaning into him with a grin.

Matt’s grin lights up the room, his lips pressing against yours firmly and rolling you onto your back. He props himself up on his forearm, his other hand following the shape of your waist. It’s a lazy kiss but you’re relishing every second his lips move with yours, his hums of content vibrating in his chest and a warmth blooms through you, a yearning, a realisation of how much you’ve missed this even if it has been just over a week. Your fingers curl into his hair, giving his scalp a gentle massage and his cheeks burn hot, his tongue licking your bottom lip and easily you let him deepen the kiss until his hand’s gliding down your hip to hook under your knee, moving your leg to wrap around his hip while he kneads the globe of your ass. 

He pulls away slowly, his eyes fluttering open to losing himself in yours, his lips forming a sweet smile before you both fall into quiet giggles. The room’s still silent with just the sound of your presence, the intimacy of company in the dark as you feel yourself tangling into him more. Matt lays on his side again, fingers running along your thigh with touches so feathery they tickle, the sensation running up to your stomach and leaving a feeling of ecstasy creeping through your sleepiness. 

“I love you, hope you know that.” He mutters, his hair falling over his eyes, but you brush it away over his head. 

He never vocalises it but his stomach flips when you play with his hair. No one’s ever done it before until you came. But the way his expression softens when you do it speaks volumes to you. 

“I love you too. Now-” You yawn mid-sentence, curling back into him comfortably, “sleep.”