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âśď¸ áá||á HOTEL , MONTELL FISH
matt sturniolo! x f!reader
requested by : @mattsturnioloisluvr ę¨ď¸ WARNINGS : smut, public, unprotected sex, dirty talk, accidental streaming, p in v, dirty talk, interrupted, a bit silly <3
It starts quietâjust the two of you, caught in the hush that always follows a long stream. The room hums with low light and static air, the faint glow of the monitors soft against Mattâs flushed skin.
Outside the door, the house is still loud. You can hear Nick laughing, Chris yelling something half-intelligible, and the squeak of someoneâs socks on hardwood. Muffled chaos.
But in here? It's just you and him. A world sealed off in low lamplight and the scent of warm electronics, cherry chapstick, and him.
Your leg brushes his as you shift on the edge of his gaming chair, and it sparks like flint against dry kindling. One glance. Thatâs all it takes.
You tilt your head. He licks his lips.
âStill feelinâ shy?â he murmurs, voice rough from hours of talking, but lower now. Private. It clings to you like a low-frequency pulse, thrumming between your thighs.
You shake your head slowly. âNot with you.â
And thatâs all it takes for him to pull you into his lap like heâs been aching for an excuse.
The chair rocks beneath you, and your knees settle on either side of his hips. His hoodie rides up your back as his hands exploreâfingertips tracing the curve of your spine like heâs drawing constellations on your skin.
âYou drive me fucking crazy,â he breathes, mouth brushing yours. âYou know that, right?â
You barely get a nod in before his lips crash into yoursâhungry, open-mouthed, nothing careful about it. His tongue slides against yours like heâs trying to take more, deeper, all of you.
You grind down on him, chasing friction, and he groans into your mouth, his fingers bunching in your thighs.
Neither of you notices the faint red dot still glowing on the webcam.
Or the way the live chatâs moving againâconfused at first. Curious.
Matt tugs your shirt over your head, exposes you without hesitation. His mouth is on your chest in seconds, sucking bruises into your skin like he wants them to be seen. Claimed.
âFuck, babyâŚâ he moans. âYouâre so fuckinâ hot like this.â
Your shorts slide halfway down your thighs. His sweats pushed to his hips. Everything is messy. Uncoordinated. Rushed. But it fits. It fits because it's him.
When you reach between you to guide him inside, itâs desperate. Sloppy. Soaked. A gasp leaves your lips as he fills you, slow and thick, bottoming out with a groan so raw it shakes through you.
He hisses as you sink down on him, his hands gripping your ass hard, forcing you deeper. âGodâfeel so fuckinâ good. Gonna lose my mind.â
You ride him slow at first, dizzy with fullness, the stretch, the weight of him buried deep. But Mattâs not built for slow. His hips buck up hard, fucking you deeper, rougher.
The chair squeaks with every thrust. The micâs still hot, still listening. So is the chat.
"waitâIS THIS STILL LIVE??"
"no way. no fucking way."
"GUYS THEYâRE FUCKINGâ
But the messages donât reach you.
Matt pulls you in tighter, his mouth everywhere at onceâyour neck, your collarbone, the soft underside of your jaw. Your fingers tangle in his curls, your hips meeting every thrust with more desperation. Youâre a mess above him, shaking and moaning, barely aware of anything except the way he fills you so perfectly.
The wet slap of skin against skin echoes in the background, timed with ragged breaths and the occasional curse he grits into your shoulder.
He slides a hand between you, thumb brushing over your clit in lazy circles. "Can feel you shaking, baby. You gonna cum for me already?"
You nod, whimpering, arching into his hand. "Donât stop. Please, Matt⌠donât stop."
He groans, his jaw clenched tight. "Youâre clenching so hard around me, fuck⌠youâre gonna make me cum."
You nod into his hair, your voice shaky. "Want it. Want all of it."
His breath stutters, cock twitching inside you as he fights the edge. âSay it again.â
âCome inside me, Matt. Please.â
He holds you down, grinding up into you deep and hard, and lets go with a rough moan against your throat. You feel itâhot, thick, spilling into you in waves. And thatâs what pushes you over. You come with a cry, clutching him tightly, your body shaking around him, milking every last drop.
Your body folds into his like a final sigh, and you rest there in the stillness, chest to chest, hearts pounding in sync. A moment stretched in heat and breath and the echo of everything you just did.
"OH MY GODDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD"
"IS THIS REAL???"
"CALL CHRIS. CALL NICK. CALL THE FBI."
"this is not happening. this is not happening."
"AI GETTING REAL CRAZY THESE DAYS."
Until the door slams open without warning.
âYo, Mattâdid you leave theââ
Chrisâs voice cuts off like a blade against bone.
You freeze. Matt freezes inside you.
Thereâs a beat of silenceâhorrified, thick, wet with sweat and disbelief.
Chris just stares, eyes wide. Then: âBro. BRO. YOUâRE STILL LIVE.â
Matt jerks his head toward the screenâsees the red light. The open chat. The hundreds of comments flying by like a digital scream.
Youâre still straddling him, shirtless, breathless, and absolutely wrecked.
Chris backs up slowly, hands in the air like he walked into a murder scene. âI didnât see anything. I swear. Not a damn thing. Goodbye.â
Mattâs face is a mess of shock and lust, panting as he buries his face in your neck. âIâm gonna die,â he whispers. âIâm literally gonna fucking die.â
You try not to laugh, but it bubbles out anywayâstill impaled on him, heartbeat racing, your body flushed and trembling.
He groans. âYouâre laughing? Baby, the internet just saw my dick.â
You bury your face in his shoulder, still giggling helplessly.
âAnd your tits. And⌠everything,â he adds, voice cracking.
Somewhere, not too far off, Chris screams:
âTURN OFF THE FUCKING STREAM.â
Matt just sighs into your neck. âIâm never showing my face again.â
You lift your head, grin lazy and love-drunk. âWell... at least now they know how good you fuck.â
He groans again, dragging a hand down his face. âKill me. Actually kill me.â
You kiss his cheek. âToo late. Youâre already famous.â
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