L 🎞️

You were nestled comfortably on the carpet next to Matt Sturniolo, your best friend since high school. His presence was a constant in your life—someone you could always count on. Tonight was no different. He leaned back on one arm, sipping his soda while grinning at something Nick had just said.

“Okay, okay,” Nick announced loudly, clapping his hands together for attention. “It’s officially truth-or-dare time. Everyone, circle up.”

You groaned, shooting Matt a look. “Do we have to?”

“Don’t fight it,” Matt replied with a smirk. “This is gonna get interesting.”

You rolled your eyes but shifted to join the forming circle, squeezing between Matt and another friend. Matt nudged you playfully with his knee, a silent promise that he’d stick by you if things got out of hand.

The game started innocently enough: a few truths about embarrassing childhood moments, dares to chug soda, or text something stupid to someone’s ex. The mood was lighthearted and fun, and you found yourself relaxing into the atmosphere.

“Your turn, Y/N,” Nick declared, the devilish glint in his eye making you tense. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” you said quickly, earning a chorus of boos.

“Lame!” Nick teased. “Alright, fine. Let’s see… hmm…” His face lit up as an idea struck him. “Who was your best sex partner?”

The room erupted in oohs and laughter, and you felt your face instantly heat up. Your throat tightened as all eyes turned toward you, waiting for an answer. Even Matt’s gaze was on you now, though he didn’t laugh like the others. Instead, he studied you curiously, his brow slightly furrowed.

“Uh…” You hesitated, your hands fidgeting with the hem of your sweater. “Well, um…”

“C’mon, Y/N,” Nick urged, leaning forward with exaggerated anticipation. “Don’t leave us hanging!”

Your cheeks burned, and you could barely meet anyone’s eyes. “I, uh…”

Matt noticed your discomfort and spoke up, his tone protective. “Hey, maybe she doesn’t wanna answer that one. Chill.”

“No, it’s fine,” you said quickly, giving Matt a small, grateful smile before looking down at your hands. You took a deep breath. “I don’t really have an answer. I’m, um… still a virgin.”

The room went silent for a beat, the playful atmosphere replaced with stunned quiet. Your heart pounded in your chest as you waited for someone to say something, feeling your blush deepen.

“You’re joking,” one of the guys finally said, breaking the tension.

“Nope,” you replied, forcing a small laugh. “That’s the truth.”

Matt’s voice cut through the murmurs, steady and confident. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

You glanced at him, his expression soft and sincere. His reassurance made you feel a little less self-conscious, though the tension in the room lingered. Someone tried to make a joke to lighten the mood, but you could tell the admission had caught everyone off guard.

Matt leaned in close, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “You okay?”

You nodded, offering a weak smile. “Yeah, just… wasn’t expecting that question.”

He gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “You handled it like a champ.”

The game continued, but you couldn’t shake the lingering tension—or the way Matt’s gaze seemed to linger on you longer than usual.

“Next round!” Chris shouted, his voice cutting through the tension. He pointed at one of the guys sitting cross-legged on the floor. “Alright, dude, truth or dare?”

“Dare,” the guy said confidently, and the group erupted into laughter as Chris gave him some absurd challenge about singing a love ballad to the nearest object. The game carried on, the awkwardness from earlier dissolving into jokes and teasing. But you weren’t really paying attention.

Your gaze was fixed on the floor, your mind spinning with thoughts you couldn’t quite pin down. The weight of the earlier question still hung heavy in your chest, and no amount of laughter around you seemed to lighten it.

“Y/N?” Matt’s voice cut through the noise. When you didn’t respond, he reached out and lightly grabbed your forearm, his touch warm and grounding. “Hey. You okay?”

You blinked, finally looking at him. His dark eyes were soft with concern, his brows slightly furrowed as he leaned closer to you. The chatter of the group faded into the background for a moment.

“Yeah,” you said quickly, giving a faint smile you hoped would reassure him. “I’m fine.”

Matt didn’t look convinced. “You sure? You seem… off.”

You shook your head and pulled your arm gently from his grip, trying to avoid making a scene. “No, yeah. I’m just tired.” Standing up, you brushed off your jeans and glanced at the rest of the group, who were now mid-laugh about the current dare.

“Where are you going?” Nick called out, his voice carrying over the noise.

You hesitated for a second, feeling the heat of everyone’s attention again. “I think I’m gonna head to bed,” you said, forcing a small smile. “I’ll be in your room, Nick.”

“Boo!” Chris called with a teasing grin. “It’s barely midnight!”

“Yeah, you’re ditching us already?” someone else added, but their teasing was half-hearted, more amused than critical.

“Sorry,” you said softly, backing toward the door. “I’m just not feeling it anymore. Have fun, though.”

Matt’s eyes lingered on you as you turned and walked away. He didn’t say anything, but you could feel his gaze on your back as you slipped out of the room and climbed the stairs, grateful to finally be alone.

The second you stepped into Nick’s room, the weight of the night hit you like a freight train. You barely had the energy to cross the room, so you didn’t. Instead, you closed the door softly behind you and slid down to the floor, resting your back against the cool wood.

You pulled your knees up to your chest and buried your face in them, trying to take slow, deep breaths to steady yourself. But it didn’t work. The lump in your throat grew heavier, and before you even realized it, tears started to spill down your cheeks.

You didn’t even know why. It had never bothered you before that you were still a virgin. You’d never felt embarrassed about it. In fact, you were proud of not rushing into something so important. But tonight, something about having to admit it in front of all your friends, with all those eyes on you, had shaken you. It wasn’t just the question—it was the vulnerability of it all.

You pressed your palms into your eyes, willing yourself to stop, but the tears kept falling. The quiet room amplified every shaky breath, every sniffle. The isolation was both a comfort and a weight, pressing down on you as you sat there, feeling small.

Ten minutes passed like this. The muffled sounds of laughter and music from downstairs reached you faintly, reminding you of the world you’d just walked away from. You started to pull yourself together, wiping at your damp cheeks and sniffling quietly, when a soft knock at the door broke the silence.

Your heart jumped, and you froze, staring at the door like it might disappear.

“Who’s there?” you called, your voice shaky and uneven.

“It’s me,” Matt said from the other side, his voice quiet but firm. “Can I come in?”

For a moment, you hesitated. You glanced down at yourself, realizing you probably looked like a mess—tear-streaked face, red eyes, and all. But this was Matt. If anyone could see you like this, it was him.

“Yeah,” you said softly, your voice barely carrying.

You stood up slowly, your knees stiff from sitting on the floor for so long. Wiping at your cheeks one last time, you turned the handle and pulled the door open.

Matt stood there, his expression shifting the moment he saw your face. His easy, teasing demeanor from earlier was gone, replaced by quiet concern. His eyes softened, scanning your tear-streaked cheeks and red-rimmed eyes.

“Y/N,” he said gently, stepping closer but stopping just short of touching you. “What’s wrong? You know you can tell me anything.”

His words were so simple, so sincere, that they hit you harder than you expected. You looked down, fiddling with the hem of your sweater, trying to find the right words. Your throat felt tight again, but this time it wasn’t embarrassment—it was the overwhelming comfort of having someone who cared enough to notice.

“I don’t know,” you admitted finally, your voice cracking. “I just… I don’t know why I’m crying.”

Matt didn’t say a word at first. Instead, he stepped forward and pulled you into a tight hug, his arms wrapping around you as if they could shield you from everything that was weighing you down. You stiffened for a brief moment before melting into his embrace, burying your face in his chest. His hand rested on the back of your head, and you felt him gently rub small circles into your back, his steady breathing calming your racing thoughts.

“Is it because of earlier?” he asked softly, his voice low but steady.

You hesitated, your fingers clutching the fabric of his hoodie. “I don’t know,” you said at first, your voice muffled against him. Then, after a pause, you added, “I mean… maybe? It never really bothered me before. I’ve always been fine with waiting.” You pulled back slightly, just enough to meet his eyes. “But now, if I really think about it, it’s kind of embarrassing to be a virgin at nearly 22.”

Matt broke the hug immediately, his hands resting firmly on your shoulders as he looked at you, his expression serious but gentle. “No. Y/N, no,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “There is nothing wrong with that. Never, ever tell yourself something like that again. Do you hear me?”

You bit your lip, your eyes darting to the floor. His intensity startled you, but it also stirred a flicker of comfort deep in your chest. You nodded slowly, still not able to meet his gaze. “Okay,” you murmured quietly.

Matt released your shoulders and stepped back slightly, but his eyes didn’t leave your face. He was quiet for a moment, clearly debating something in his mind. You could tell by the way his jaw tensed and how he shifted his weight slightly, something he always did when he was overthinking.

When he finally spoke, his voice was softer, almost hesitant. “You know…” he began, clearing his throat awkwardly. “If you really want to lose it… I mean, if it’s something you’re ready for and it’s bothering you…” He paused, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “I could be the one who takes it. I mean, if you’re comfortable with that.”

Your eyes snapped up to his, wide with surprise. “What?”

Matt’s cheeks flushed instantly, and he cursed under his breath, looking away for a moment. “Forget it. That was stupid. I shouldn’t have said anything—”

“No, wait,” you interrupted, your voice barely above a whisper. “You would… do that for me?”

His gaze softened as he looked back at you, still visibly embarrassed but holding your gaze. “Yeah,” he said simply. “If that’s what you want. But only under one condition.”

You tilted your head slightly, your heart racing. “What condition?”

He scratched the back of his neck, his lips quirking into a small, nervous smile. “We don’t make this awkward afterward. Like, we’re still us. No weirdness, no ruining what we have.”

You nodded slowly, your voice shy as you asked, “You’d really do that for me, Matt?”

His gaze held yours, steady and sincere, as he nodded again. “Of course. You mean everything to me, Y/N. I’d never let anyone make you feel like you’re less than amazing. Not even yourself.”

A soft, shy smile spread across your face as you looked at Matt. His words, so genuine and tender, lingered in the air between you. Without thinking, you leaned in, closing the distance between you. Your lips met his, soft and hesitant at first. The kiss was slow, almost uncertain, but the warmth and connection behind it were undeniable.

Matt kissed you back just as gently, his hands carefully resting on your waist. It was like testing the waters, feeling out the newness of something you’d both probably imagined but never dared to explore. Your lips moved in sync, and within moments, the initial hesitancy gave way to something deeper, more urgent. His hand moved to cradle your face, tilting it slightly to deepen the kiss, and your fingers instinctively found the fabric of his hoodie, clutching it tightly.

Your breaths grew heavier as the kiss intensified, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the world melted away. But then Matt pulled back, his forehead resting gently against yours as he caught his breath. His dark eyes searched yours, a mix of excitement and nervousness shining in them.

“Let’s… let’s take this to my room, yeah?” he murmured, his voice low and slightly breathless. “I don’t know how long Nick is gonna be downstairs.”

You nodded silently, your heart racing as he took your hand and led you out of Nick’s room. The walk to his room felt like it took both a second and an eternity. The quiet hallway only amplified the anticipation building between you.

Once you were inside, Matt shut the door behind you, leaning against it for a moment before his gaze found yours again. He stepped toward you, his confidence returning as he reached for you, his hands resting gently on your waist. Without another word, his lips were on yours again, this time with more urgency.

The kiss grew deeper, and you found yourself walking backward until your knees hit the edge of his bed. You gasped softly as you fell onto it, your back meeting the mattress, and Matt quickly followed, his body hovering over yours. For a moment, he didn’t do anything. He just looked at you, his eyes tracing every feature of your face like he was committing it to memory.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe. His fingers brushed a strand of hair away from your face, and you felt your cheeks flush under his gaze.

You reached up, your fingers brushing against his cheek as you whispered, “Matt…”

He leaned down, kissing you again, his weight pressing into you just enough to feel grounded but not overwhelming. His lips moved to your jaw, then down to your neck, leaving soft, lingering kisses that made your skin tingle. As his hands slowly explored, finding the hem of your shirt, he paused and pulled back slightly.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice soft and full of concern.

You nodded, your voice steady but quiet. “Yeah. I’m okay.”

Matt’s eyes searched yours, needing the reassurance. “Are you sure? We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for. Just say the word, and we’ll stop.”

Your heart swelled at his care, and you nodded again, more firmly this time. “I’m sure, Matt. I want this… with you.”

A small smile tugged at his lips, and he leaned down to kiss you again, his hands carefully lifting your shirt. You let him, your breaths quickening as you slid your hands under his hoodie, helping him pull it off. His toned chest was warm under your fingertips, and you felt his muscles tense slightly under your touch.

Piece by piece, you began to undress each other, every movement slow and deliberate, filled with quiet questions and soft reassurances. Each time he touched you, Matt paused to check your expression, asking, “Still okay?”

And each time, you whispered, “Yes,” your voice full of trust.

When he finally settled over you again, his bare skin against yours, he cupped your face gently in his hands. “If anything feels wrong or uncomfortable, tell me, okay?” he murmured.

You nodded, feeling a wave of warmth and safety wash over you. “I will. I promise.”

His lips found yours again, tender and unhurried

As your clothes fell away, piece by piece, you felt the cool air brush against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. Matt hovered above you, his gaze sweeping over your body with an expression you couldn’t quite read—part awe, part tenderness, part something deeper. His fingers trailed along your collarbone and down your arms, making your skin tingle under his touch.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered again, his voice low and filled with reverence. He leaned down to kiss you, slow and lingering, as his hands began to explore.

His lips moved down your neck, trailing soft kisses across your collarbone and down to your chest. You gasped when his warm hands cupped your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples. His touch was gentle but purposeful, and the way he was so focused on you made your heart race.

Matt’s lips followed the path of his hands, his kisses growing firmer as he pressed them against the swell of your breasts. His hands massaged softly, his thumbs continuing their slow circles, sending waves of pleasure through you. Your breathing grew heavier, and you arched slightly into his touch, your body responding instinctively.

“Matt…” you whispered his name, barely audible, but he heard it. He glanced up at you, his dark eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your stomach flutter.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he said softly, his voice warm and steady, though you could see the desire simmering just beneath the surface.

“It’s not,” you reassured him, your voice trembling slightly with anticipation. “It’s perfect.”

He smiled softly before leaning back down, continuing his slow descent. His kisses moved lower, brushing over your stomach, his hands following as they trailed over your hips. You gasped softly when his hand moved between your thighs, his fingers gently parting them.

“You’re amazing,” he murmured against your skin, his lips pressing to your hipbone before his hand slid higher.

You felt a jolt of pleasure as his fingers found your clit, stroking it in slow, deliberate circles. A soft moan escaped your lips, your hips instinctively tilting toward him. The feeling was intense but not overwhelming, his movements careful as he learned what made you gasp and shudder beneath him.

“You’re so wet, Y/N,” Matt whispered, his breath warm against your neck where he rested his head for a moment, his voice filled with wonder and a hint of teasing. His free hand moved to cradle your side, holding you steady as his fingers continued their exploration.

You bit your lip, your hands gripping the sheets beneath you as his finger slipped lower, circling your entrance. When he slowly pushed one finger inside, you let out a soft, breathy moan, your body tensing slightly at the new sensation.

“Does that feel okay?” he asked, his voice low and soothing, his head lifting to meet your gaze.

“Yes,” you breathed, your voice shaky but certain. “It feels… really good.”

Matt smiled again, his thumb brushing over your clit in time with the slow movements of his finger. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your collarbone as he continued to work you with a gentle but growing rhythm, his focus entirely on your pleasure.

Matt’s finger moved slowly inside you, the new sensation making you gasp and grip his shoulder. He peppered kisses along your neck and whispered softly, his breath warm against your skin. “You’re doing so well, Y/N. Does this feel good?”

You nodded, unable to form words, your body trembling slightly under his careful touch.

“Relax for me,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. “Just let me take care of you.”

When he added a second finger, you felt a stretch that was unfamiliar but not unpleasant. A louder moan slipped out before you could stop it, the sound echoing in the quiet of the room. Matt froze for a moment, pulling his head back to look at you, his lips quirking into a gentle, teasing smile.

“Shh,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I know, I know, but we’ve gotta be quiet, baby. They’re still downstairs.”

You nodded quickly, your cheeks heating with embarrassment, but Matt’s voice softened even further. “Hey,” he said, tilting your chin up to meet his eyes. “Can you do that for me? Can you be my good girl and keep it down?”

His words sent a shiver through you, and you nodded again, this time more eagerly. “I’ll try,” you whispered.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss you deeply. Your lips moved against his, and the kiss was an anchor, helping you focus on him as his fingers continued their slow rhythm. He plunged them in and out of you carefully, curling them just right, and the pleasure began to build steadily in your core.

You gripped the back of his neck, your kisses growing more urgent as you tried to stay quiet, but it was almost impossible. Each movement of his fingers sent sparks shooting through you, the tension in your stomach tightening with every pass of his thumb over your clit.

“Matt…” you whispered against his lips, your voice trembling as the heat inside you began to peak.

“I know,” he said softly, his forehead pressing against yours. “You’re close, aren’t you?”

You nodded frantically, your breathing uneven as your body tensed beneath him.

But just as you felt the edge of your orgasm within reach, Matt suddenly stopped, pulling his fingers away. Your eyes snapped open, a mix of confusion and desperation written across your face.

“What—why did you stop?” you asked breathlessly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Matt’s lips curved into a small, knowing smile as he brushed his thumb over your cheek. “Because,” he said softly, his voice low and full of intent, “I want to be inside you when you cum, pretty girl.”

His words sent a wave of heat through your entire body, and you could only stare at him, your chest rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath. “You do?” you asked shyly, your voice trembling with both excitement and nervousness.

Matt nodded, leaning down to kiss you again, his lips slow and reassuring. “Yeah,” he murmured against your mouth. “But only if you’re ready. I won’t do anything you don’t want.”

“I’m ready,” you whispered, your voice steady despite the rapid beating of your heart. “I want this… I want you.”

The tenderness in his eyes deepened as he kissed you again, his hands gently cradling your face as he whispered, “I’ll take care of you, Y/N. Always.”

Matt leaned over, opening the drawer of his nightstand with a quiet slide. His hand searched for a moment before pulling out a small, foil packet. He looked at you, holding it up for a moment as if giving you one last chance to stop. When you didn’t say anything, just watching him with wide, trusting eyes, he tore it open and rolled the condom on with practiced ease.

You couldn’t look away from him. The way he moved, the care in every action—it only reassured you that you’d made the right decision. He settled back over you, bracing himself with one hand on the bed while the other cupped your face gently. He leaned down to kiss you again, slow and tender, as though he had all the time in the world.

When he pulled back, his forehead pressed against yours, his dark eyes searched your face with a mixture of seriousness and concern. “You’re sure?” he asked softly. “There’s no going back after this, pretty girl.”

You nodded firmly, your heart racing but your resolve unwavering. “I’m 100% sure, Matt. I want this. I want you.”

His lips quirked into a soft smile, and he kissed you again, murmuring against your lips, “I’ll make it good for you, I promise.”

Matt shifted slightly, positioning himself between your legs. His hand moved to guide himself, and you felt the tip of him press against your entrance. Your breath hitched, anticipation and nerves twisting together in your chest.

“Just relax,” he said gently, his free hand brushing soothing circles over your hip. “If it’s too much, tell me, okay?”

You nodded, exhaling shakily. “Okay.”

Slowly, he pushed in, just the tip at first, giving you a moment to adjust. The stretch was unlike anything you’d ever felt—foreign and intense, but not unbearable. You whimpered softly, your hands instinctively clutching at his shoulders.

“Shhh,” Matt whispered, his lips brushing against your temple. “I know, I know. You’re doing so well, Y/N. Just breathe for me.”

He pushed in a little further, and the sensation grew sharper. Your body tensed, a mix of discomfort and pleasure coursing through you. A small tear slipped down your cheek, and Matt immediately noticed, freezing in place.

“Y/N,” he said softly, concern lacing his voice. He wiped the tear away with his thumb, his brows knitting together. “We can stop if it hurts too much. Just say the word.”

“No,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “No, I’m fine. I promise. It’s just… a lot.”

Matt hesitated, his eyes searching yours for any sign of uncertainty. “How much are you in?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He exhaled slowly, his voice low and steady. “A little more than half, princess.”

You nodded, swallowing hard as you tried to relax. “Okay. Keep going,” you said softly, your voice trembling but determined.

“Are you sure?” he asked again, his thumb brushing over your cheek reassuringly.

“I’m sure,” you whispered, giving him a small smile despite the tension in your body.

Matt leaned down to kiss you, his lips warm and soft against yours. The kiss was meant to distract you, and it worked. Your focus shifted to the way his lips moved with yours, how his hand cradled your face so tenderly.

As the kiss deepened, he slowly pushed in the rest of the way, and before you knew it, he was fully inside you. You gasped softly, your body adjusting to the feeling of fullness. Matt stilled immediately, his forehead resting against yours as he whispered, “Take your time, Y/N. Tell me when you’re ready.”

You took a few deep breaths, letting yourself adjust to the sensation. The initial discomfort was fading, replaced by a growing warmth that spread through you.

After a moment, you nodded, your voice steady as you said, “You can move now, Matt.”

He kissed you again, murmuring, “Okay, baby. I’ll go slow.”

Matt began to move slowly, pulling out just a little before easing back in. The sensation was intense but steady, giving you time to adjust with each gentle thrust. He kissed you tenderly, his lips brushing against yours in a way that sent warmth through your entire body.

“You okay?” he murmured, his voice breathless but still full of concern as his eyes locked on yours.

“Yes,” you whispered, your hands gripping his shoulders for support. “It’s… good.”

He smiled softly, leaning down to kiss you again. “Tell me if you want me to stop, alright?”

“I will,” you assured him, your voice trembling slightly but filled with trust.

He continued his slow rhythm, his hips moving against yours with precision. The sensation began to shift, the initial discomfort melting into something deeper, something that sent sparks of pleasure through you. Your breathing grew heavier, and you let out a soft whimper as your body started to relax into his movements.

“Faster,” you whispered, barely audible at first. When he didn’t respond immediately, you repeated it, louder this time. “Faster, please.”

Matt froze for just a second, searching your face for confirmation. When he saw the need in your eyes, he nodded, his lips curving into a small smile. “Okay, baby,” he said, his voice low and full of warmth.

He shifted slightly, his pace increasing as he thrust into you more firmly. The new rhythm sent waves of pleasure through your body, and you couldn’t help but moan softly, your hands clinging to him as if he were your anchor.

“You feel so good,” he whispered, his forehead pressing against yours as his breath came in short pants. “So perfect.”

You whimpered in response, the pleasure building with every thrust. Your bodies moved in sync, his movements growing quicker and more confident as the tension in the air thickened. The room filled with the sound of skin meeting skin, a steady rhythm that echoed around you.

Matt leaned down to kiss you, his lips capturing yours in a heated, desperate kiss. The intensity of the moment deepened, your tongues tangling as you melted into each other. The kiss was messy, filled with passion, but it grounded you in the intimacy of the moment.

As his pace quickened, one of his hands slid between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit with practiced ease. The moment he touched you there, your entire body tensed, a loud moan slipping from your lips before you could stop it.

Matt’s hand quickly moved to cover your mouth, his own breathing ragged as he whispered, “Shhh, baby. I know it’s hard, but you’ve gotta keep quiet.”

You nodded against his hand, your eyes wide as you tried to stifle the sounds spilling from you. The pressure in your core grew unbearable, the pleasure building to a point where it felt like you might burst.

“Come on,” Matt panted, his voice thick with desire as he leaned down to kiss your jaw, your neck, and then your shoulder. “Cum for me, Y/N. Be my good girl.”

His words sent you over the edge. Your body tightened around him as the orgasm crashed over you, waves of pleasure radiating from your core. You cried out into his hand, your muffled moans filling the room as your body trembled beneath him.

Matt’s pace grew erratic, his movements more desperate as your body clenched around him. He groaned low in his throat, the sound sending a shiver through you. His hands gripped your hips, and with one final thrust, he stilled, his face buried in the crook of your neck as he came.

You never thought you’d hear your best friend moan like that, his breath hot against your skin as his body trembled above you. But here you were, in Matt’s bed, tangled together and completely out of breath as the haze of pleasure began to fade. Your body felt heavy, your limbs relaxed, and the room was silent except for the sound of your shared breathing.

Matt lifted his head slightly, his dark eyes meeting yours. There was something in his gaze—softness, maybe even vulnerability—that made your chest ache in the best way. He shifted to the side, pulling out slowly and discarding the condom in the trash next to his bed before lying beside you.

You stared at the ceiling for a moment, still trying to process what had just happened. It felt surreal, like a fever dream you didn’t want to wake up from.

Finally, you broke the silence, turning your head to look at him. “That was… amazing,” you said softly, your voice still a little breathless. “Thank you so much, Matt.”

A slow, sweet smile spread across his face as he propped himself up on one elbow, leaning closer to you. He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face and tucking it behind your ear. “Of course, princess,” he said softly, his voice warm and full of affection.

The nickname sent a flutter through your chest, and you couldn’t help but smile back at him. His hand lingered on your cheek for a moment before he let it fall back to his side, his eyes never leaving yours.

“You okay?” he asked, his tone careful and sincere.

“Yeah,” you replied, nodding as you shifted onto your side to face him fully. “Better than okay.”

“Good,” he said with a small grin, his fingers tracing absent patterns on the sheet between you. “I’m glad. I wanted it to be good for you.”

“It was,” you reassured him, your smile widening. “More than good.”

He chuckled softly, his expression turning a little shy as he looked down briefly before meeting your gaze again. “I, uh… I never thought this would happen,” he admitted. “But I’m glad it did.”

“Me too,” you said quietly, feeling your cheeks heat again. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence between you comfortable and filled with unspoken understanding. You reached out, your fingers brushing against his on the sheet. He laced them together without hesitation, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

As the silence between you stretched, you couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh, the sound breaking through the quiet of the room.

Matt tilted his head, his brows furrowing in confusion as a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “What’s so funny?” he asked, shifting slightly to prop himself up on one elbow, looking down at you with a mix of curiosity and amusement.

You covered your face with your hands for a moment, trying to stifle the giggles bubbling up. “I don’t know,” you managed between breaths, your laughter spilling out uncontrollably. “This whole situation—it’s just… surreal.”

Matt smiled, watching you fondly as your laughter filled the room. “Surreal how?” he asked, gently pulling your hands away from your face so he could see you fully.

You turned your head to look at him, your cheeks still warm from both laughter and the afterglow of what had just happened. “I mean, I never thought my first time would be with my best friend,” you admitted, your voice tinged with humor. “But here we are, and it was… perfect. Like, weirdly perfect.”

Matt chuckled softly, his fingers brushing over the back of your hand. “Weirdly perfect, huh? I’ll take it.”

You grinned at him, the corners of your eyes crinkling. “It was. Really. But,” you paused, your laughter bubbling up again as you turned onto your side to face him, “I think we should definitely do this again.”

Matt’s eyes widened for a split second, but then he burst into laughter alongside you, his deep, warm laugh filling the space between you. “Oh, we definitely will, princess,” he said, his voice low and full of promise, the nickname rolling off his tongue with a confidence that made your stomach flutter.

The two of you lay there for a while longer, your laughter fading into quiet smiles as the reality of the moment sank in. Matt pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you securely as you rested your head against his chest.

You were nestled comfortably on the carpet next to Matt Sturniolo, your best friend since high school. His presence was a constant in your life—someone you could always count on. Tonight was no different. He leaned back on one arm, sipping his soda while grinning at something Nick had just said.

“Okay, okay,” Nick announced loudly, clapping his hands together for attention. “It’s officially truth-or-dare time. Everyone, circle up.”

You groaned, shooting Matt a look. “Do we have to?”

“Don’t fight it,” Matt replied with a smirk. “This is gonna get interesting.”

You rolled your eyes but shifted to join the forming circle, squeezing between Matt and another friend. Matt nudged you playfully with his knee, a silent promise that he’d stick by you if things got out of hand.

The game started innocently enough: a few truths about embarrassing childhood moments, dares to chug soda, or text something stupid to someone’s ex. The mood was lighthearted and fun, and you found yourself relaxing into the atmosphere.

“Your turn, Y/N,” Nick declared, the devilish glint in his eye making you tense. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” you said quickly, earning a chorus of boos.

“Lame!” Nick teased. “Alright, fine. Let’s see… hmm…” His face lit up as an idea struck him. “Who was your best sex partner?”

The room erupted in oohs and laughter, and you felt your face instantly heat up. Your throat tightened as all eyes turned toward you, waiting for an answer. Even Matt’s gaze was on you now, though he didn’t laugh like the others. Instead, he studied you curiously, his brow slightly furrowed.

“Uh…” You hesitated, your hands fidgeting with the hem of your sweater. “Well, um…”

“C’mon, Y/N,” Nick urged, leaning forward with exaggerated anticipation. “Don’t leave us hanging!”

Your cheeks burned, and you could barely meet anyone’s eyes. “I, uh…”

Matt noticed your discomfort and spoke up, his tone protective. “Hey, maybe she doesn’t wanna answer that one. Chill.”

“No, it’s fine,” you said quickly, giving Matt a small, grateful smile before looking down at your hands. You took a deep breath. “I don’t really have an answer. I’m, um… still a virgin.”

The room went silent for a beat, the playful atmosphere replaced with stunned quiet. Your heart pounded in your chest as you waited for someone to say something, feeling your blush deepen.

“You’re joking,” one of the guys finally said, breaking the tension.

“Nope,” you replied, forcing a small laugh. “That’s the truth.”

Matt’s voice cut through the murmurs, steady and confident. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

You glanced at him, his expression soft and sincere. His reassurance made you feel a little less self-conscious, though the tension in the room lingered. Someone tried to make a joke to lighten the mood, but you could tell the admission had caught everyone off guard.

Matt leaned in close, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “You okay?”

You nodded, offering a weak smile. “Yeah, just… wasn’t expecting that question.”

He gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “You handled it like a champ.”

The game continued, but you couldn’t shake the lingering tension—or the way Matt’s gaze seemed to linger on you longer than usual.

“Next round!” Chris shouted, his voice cutting through the tension. He pointed at one of the guys sitting cross-legged on the floor. “Alright, dude, truth or dare?”

“Dare,” the guy said confidently, and the group erupted into laughter as Chris gave him some absurd challenge about singing a love ballad to the nearest object. The game carried on, the awkwardness from earlier dissolving into jokes and teasing. But you weren’t really paying attention.

Your gaze was fixed on the floor, your mind spinning with thoughts you couldn’t quite pin down. The weight of the earlier question still hung heavy in your chest, and no amount of laughter around you seemed to lighten it.

“Y/N?” Matt’s voice cut through the noise. When you didn’t respond, he reached out and lightly grabbed your forearm, his touch warm and grounding. “Hey. You okay?”

You blinked, finally looking at him. His dark eyes were soft with concern, his brows slightly furrowed as he leaned closer to you. The chatter of the group faded into the background for a moment.

“Yeah,” you said quickly, giving a faint smile you hoped would reassure him. “I’m fine.”

Matt didn’t look convinced. “You sure? You seem… off.”

You shook your head and pulled your arm gently from his grip, trying to avoid making a scene. “No, yeah. I’m just tired.” Standing up, you brushed off your jeans and glanced at the rest of the group, who were now mid-laugh about the current dare.

“Where are you going?” Nick called out, his voice carrying over the noise.

You hesitated for a second, feeling the heat of everyone’s attention again. “I think I’m gonna head to bed,” you said, forcing a small smile. “I’ll be in your room, Nick.”

“Boo!” Chris called with a teasing grin. “It’s barely midnight!”

“Yeah, you’re ditching us already?” someone else added, but their teasing was half-hearted, more amused than critical.

“Sorry,” you said softly, backing toward the door. “I’m just not feeling it anymore. Have fun, though.”

Matt’s eyes lingered on you as you turned and walked away. He didn’t say anything, but you could feel his gaze on your back as you slipped out of the room and climbed the stairs, grateful to finally be alone.

The second you stepped into Nick’s room, the weight of the night hit you like a freight train. You barely had the energy to cross the room, so you didn’t. Instead, you closed the door softly behind you and slid down to the floor, resting your back against the cool wood.

You pulled your knees up to your chest and buried your face in them, trying to take slow, deep breaths to steady yourself. But it didn’t work. The lump in your throat grew heavier, and before you even realized it, tears started to spill down your cheeks.

You didn’t even know why. It had never bothered you before that you were still a virgin. You’d never felt embarrassed about it. In fact, you were proud of not rushing into something so important. But tonight, something about having to admit it in front of all your friends, with all those eyes on you, had shaken you. It wasn’t just the question—it was the vulnerability of it all.

You pressed your palms into your eyes, willing yourself to stop, but the tears kept falling. The quiet room amplified every shaky breath, every sniffle. The isolation was both a comfort and a weight, pressing down on you as you sat there, feeling small.

Ten minutes passed like this. The muffled sounds of laughter and music from downstairs reached you faintly, reminding you of the world you’d just walked away from. You started to pull yourself together, wiping at your damp cheeks and sniffling quietly, when a soft knock at the door broke the silence.

Your heart jumped, and you froze, staring at the door like it might disappear.

“Who’s there?” you called, your voice shaky and uneven.

“It’s me,” Matt said from the other side, his voice quiet but firm. “Can I come in?”

For a moment, you hesitated. You glanced down at yourself, realizing you probably looked like a mess—tear-streaked face, red eyes, and all. But this was Matt. If anyone could see you like this, it was him.

“Yeah,” you said softly, your voice barely carrying.

You stood up slowly, your knees stiff from sitting on the floor for so long. Wiping at your cheeks one last time, you turned the handle and pulled the door open.

Matt stood there, his expression shifting the moment he saw your face. His easy, teasing demeanor from earlier was gone, replaced by quiet concern. His eyes softened, scanning your tear-streaked cheeks and red-rimmed eyes.

“Y/N,” he said gently, stepping closer but stopping just short of touching you. “What’s wrong? You know you can tell me anything.”

His words were so simple, so sincere, that they hit you harder than you expected. You looked down, fiddling with the hem of your sweater, trying to find the right words. Your throat felt tight again, but this time it wasn’t embarrassment—it was the overwhelming comfort of having someone who cared enough to notice.

“I don’t know,” you admitted finally, your voice cracking. “I just… I don’t know why I’m crying.”

Matt didn’t say a word at first. Instead, he stepped forward and pulled you into a tight hug, his arms wrapping around you as if they could shield you from everything that was weighing you down. You stiffened for a brief moment before melting into his embrace, burying your face in his chest. His hand rested on the back of your head, and you felt him gently rub small circles into your back, his steady breathing calming your racing thoughts.

“Is it because of earlier?” he asked softly, his voice low but steady.

You hesitated, your fingers clutching the fabric of his hoodie. “I don’t know,” you said at first, your voice muffled against him. Then, after a pause, you added, “I mean… maybe? It never really bothered me before. I’ve always been fine with waiting.” You pulled back slightly, just enough to meet his eyes. “But now, if I really think about it, it’s kind of embarrassing to be a virgin at nearly 22.”

Matt broke the hug immediately, his hands resting firmly on your shoulders as he looked at you, his expression serious but gentle. “No. Y/N, no,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “There is nothing wrong with that. Never, ever tell yourself something like that again. Do you hear me?”

You bit your lip, your eyes darting to the floor. His intensity startled you, but it also stirred a flicker of comfort deep in your chest. You nodded slowly, still not able to meet his gaze. “Okay,” you murmured quietly.

Matt released your shoulders and stepped back slightly, but his eyes didn’t leave your face. He was quiet for a moment, clearly debating something in his mind. You could tell by the way his jaw tensed and how he shifted his weight slightly, something he always did when he was overthinking.

When he finally spoke, his voice was softer, almost hesitant. “You know…” he began, clearing his throat awkwardly. “If you really want to lose it… I mean, if it’s something you’re ready for and it’s bothering you…” He paused, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “I could be the one who takes it. I mean, if you’re comfortable with that.”

Your eyes snapped up to his, wide with surprise. “What?”

Matt’s cheeks flushed instantly, and he cursed under his breath, looking away for a moment. “Forget it. That was stupid. I shouldn’t have said anything—”

“No, wait,” you interrupted, your voice barely above a whisper. “You would… do that for me?”

His gaze softened as he looked back at you, still visibly embarrassed but holding your gaze. “Yeah,” he said simply. “If that’s what you want. But only under one condition.”

You tilted your head slightly, your heart racing. “What condition?”

He scratched the back of his neck, his lips quirking into a small, nervous smile. “We don’t make this awkward afterward. Like, we’re still us. No weirdness, no ruining what we have.”

You nodded slowly, your voice shy as you asked, “You’d really do that for me, Matt?”

His gaze held yours, steady and sincere, as he nodded again. “Of course. You mean everything to me, Y/N. I’d never let anyone make you feel like you’re less than amazing. Not even yourself.”

A soft, shy smile spread across your face as you looked at Matt. His words, so genuine and tender, lingered in the air between you. Without thinking, you leaned in, closing the distance between you. Your lips met his, soft and hesitant at first. The kiss was slow, almost uncertain, but the warmth and connection behind it were undeniable.

Matt kissed you back just as gently, his hands carefully resting on your waist. It was like testing the waters, feeling out the newness of something you’d both probably imagined but never dared to explore. Your lips moved in sync, and within moments, the initial hesitancy gave way to something deeper, more urgent. His hand moved to cradle your face, tilting it slightly to deepen the kiss, and your fingers instinctively found the fabric of his hoodie, clutching it tightly.

Your breaths grew heavier as the kiss intensified, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the world melted away. But then Matt pulled back, his forehead resting gently against yours as he caught his breath. His dark eyes searched yours, a mix of excitement and nervousness shining in them.

“Let’s… let’s take this to my room, yeah?” he murmured, his voice low and slightly breathless. “I don’t know how long Nick is gonna be downstairs.”

You nodded silently, your heart racing as he took your hand and led you out of Nick’s room. The walk to his room felt like it took both a second and an eternity. The quiet hallway only amplified the anticipation building between you.

Once you were inside, Matt shut the door behind you, leaning against it for a moment before his gaze found yours again. He stepped toward you, his confidence returning as he reached for you, his hands resting gently on your waist. Without another word, his lips were on yours again, this time with more urgency.

The kiss grew deeper, and you found yourself walking backward until your knees hit the edge of his bed. You gasped softly as you fell onto it, your back meeting the mattress, and Matt quickly followed, his body hovering over yours. For a moment, he didn’t do anything. He just looked at you, his eyes tracing every feature of your face like he was committing it to memory.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe. His fingers brushed a strand of hair away from your face, and you felt your cheeks flush under his gaze.

You reached up, your fingers brushing against his cheek as you whispered, “Matt…”

He leaned down, kissing you again, his weight pressing into you just enough to feel grounded but not overwhelming. His lips moved to your jaw, then down to your neck, leaving soft, lingering kisses that made your skin tingle. As his hands slowly explored, finding the hem of your shirt, he paused and pulled back slightly.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice soft and full of concern.

You nodded, your voice steady but quiet. “Yeah. I’m okay.”

Matt’s eyes searched yours, needing the reassurance. “Are you sure? We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for. Just say the word, and we’ll stop.”

Your heart swelled at his care, and you nodded again, more firmly this time. “I’m sure, Matt. I want this… with you.”

A small smile tugged at his lips, and he leaned down to kiss you again, his hands carefully lifting your shirt. You let him, your breaths quickening as you slid your hands under his hoodie, helping him pull it off. His toned chest was warm under your fingertips, and you felt his muscles tense slightly under your touch.

Piece by piece, you began to undress each other, every movement slow and deliberate, filled with quiet questions and soft reassurances. Each time he touched you, Matt paused to check your expression, asking, “Still okay?”

And each time, you whispered, “Yes,” your voice full of trust.

When he finally settled over you again, his bare skin against yours, he cupped your face gently in his hands. “If anything feels wrong or uncomfortable, tell me, okay?” he murmured.

You nodded, feeling a wave of warmth and safety wash over you. “I will. I promise.”

His lips found yours again, tender and unhurried

As your clothes fell away, piece by piece, you felt the cool air brush against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. Matt hovered above you, his gaze sweeping over your body with an expression you couldn’t quite read—part awe, part tenderness, part something deeper. His fingers trailed along your collarbone and down your arms, making your skin tingle under his touch.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered again, his voice low and filled with reverence. He leaned down to kiss you, slow and lingering, as his hands began to explore.

His lips moved down your neck, trailing soft kisses across your collarbone and down to your chest. You gasped when his warm hands cupped your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples. His touch was gentle but purposeful, and the way he was so focused on you made your heart race.

Matt’s lips followed the path of his hands, his kisses growing firmer as he pressed them against the swell of your breasts. His hands massaged softly, his thumbs continuing their slow circles, sending waves of pleasure through you. Your breathing grew heavier, and you arched slightly into his touch, your body responding instinctively.

“Matt…” you whispered his name, barely audible, but he heard it. He glanced up at you, his dark eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your stomach flutter.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he said softly, his voice warm and steady, though you could see the desire simmering just beneath the surface.

“It’s not,” you reassured him, your voice trembling slightly with anticipation. “It’s perfect.”

He smiled softly before leaning back down, continuing his slow descent. His kisses moved lower, brushing over your stomach, his hands following as they trailed over your hips. You gasped softly when his hand moved between your thighs, his fingers gently parting them.

“You’re amazing,” he murmured against your skin, his lips pressing to your hipbone before his hand slid higher.

You felt a jolt of pleasure as his fingers found your clit, stroking it in slow, deliberate circles. A soft moan escaped your lips, your hips instinctively tilting toward him. The feeling was intense but not overwhelming, his movements careful as he learned what made you gasp and shudder beneath him.

“You’re so wet, Y/N,” Matt whispered, his breath warm against your neck where he rested his head for a moment, his voice filled with wonder and a hint of teasing. His free hand moved to cradle your side, holding you steady as his fingers continued their exploration.

You bit your lip, your hands gripping the sheets beneath you as his finger slipped lower, circling your entrance. When he slowly pushed one finger inside, you let out a soft, breathy moan, your body tensing slightly at the new sensation.

“Does that feel okay?” he asked, his voice low and soothing, his head lifting to meet your gaze.

“Yes,” you breathed, your voice shaky but certain. “It feels… really good.”

Matt smiled again, his thumb brushing over your clit in time with the slow movements of his finger. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your collarbone as he continued to work you with a gentle but growing rhythm, his focus entirely on your pleasure.

Matt’s finger moved slowly inside you, the new sensation making you gasp and grip his shoulder. He peppered kisses along your neck and whispered softly, his breath warm against your skin. “You’re doing so well, Y/N. Does this feel good?”

You nodded, unable to form words, your body trembling slightly under his careful touch.

“Relax for me,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. “Just let me take care of you.”

When he added a second finger, you felt a stretch that was unfamiliar but not unpleasant. A louder moan slipped out before you could stop it, the sound echoing in the quiet of the room. Matt froze for a moment, pulling his head back to look at you, his lips quirking into a gentle, teasing smile.

“Shh,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I know, I know, but we’ve gotta be quiet, baby. They’re still downstairs.”

You nodded quickly, your cheeks heating with embarrassment, but Matt’s voice softened even further. “Hey,” he said, tilting your chin up to meet his eyes. “Can you do that for me? Can you be my good girl and keep it down?”

His words sent a shiver through you, and you nodded again, this time more eagerly. “I’ll try,” you whispered.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss you deeply. Your lips moved against his, and the kiss was an anchor, helping you focus on him as his fingers continued their slow rhythm. He plunged them in and out of you carefully, curling them just right, and the pleasure began to build steadily in your core.

You gripped the back of his neck, your kisses growing more urgent as you tried to stay quiet, but it was almost impossible. Each movement of his fingers sent sparks shooting through you, the tension in your stomach tightening with every pass of his thumb over your clit.

“Matt…” you whispered against his lips, your voice trembling as the heat inside you began to peak.

“I know,” he said softly, his forehead pressing against yours. “You’re close, aren’t you?”

You nodded frantically, your breathing uneven as your body tensed beneath him.

But just as you felt the edge of your orgasm within reach, Matt suddenly stopped, pulling his fingers away. Your eyes snapped open, a mix of confusion and desperation written across your face.

“What—why did you stop?” you asked breathlessly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Matt’s lips curved into a small, knowing smile as he brushed his thumb over your cheek. “Because,” he said softly, his voice low and full of intent, “I want to be inside you when you cum, pretty girl.”

His words sent a wave of heat through your entire body, and you could only stare at him, your chest rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath. “You do?” you asked shyly, your voice trembling with both excitement and nervousness.

Matt nodded, leaning down to kiss you again, his lips slow and reassuring. “Yeah,” he murmured against your mouth. “But only if you’re ready. I won’t do anything you don’t want.”

“I’m ready,” you whispered, your voice steady despite the rapid beating of your heart. “I want this… I want you.”

The tenderness in his eyes deepened as he kissed you again, his hands gently cradling your face as he whispered, “I’ll take care of you, Y/N. Always.”

Matt leaned over, opening the drawer of his nightstand with a quiet slide. His hand searched for a moment before pulling out a small, foil packet. He looked at you, holding it up for a moment as if giving you one last chance to stop. When you didn’t say anything, just watching him with wide, trusting eyes, he tore it open and rolled the condom on with practiced ease.

You couldn’t look away from him. The way he moved, the care in every action—it only reassured you that you’d made the right decision. He settled back over you, bracing himself with one hand on the bed while the other cupped your face gently. He leaned down to kiss you again, slow and tender, as though he had all the time in the world.

When he pulled back, his forehead pressed against yours, his dark eyes searched your face with a mixture of seriousness and concern. “You’re sure?” he asked softly. “There’s no going back after this, pretty girl.”

You nodded firmly, your heart racing but your resolve unwavering. “I’m 100% sure, Matt. I want this. I want you.”

His lips quirked into a soft smile, and he kissed you again, murmuring against your lips, “I’ll make it good for you, I promise.”

Matt shifted slightly, positioning himself between your legs. His hand moved to guide himself, and you felt the tip of him press against your entrance. Your breath hitched, anticipation and nerves twisting together in your chest.

“Just relax,” he said gently, his free hand brushing soothing circles over your hip. “If it’s too much, tell me, okay?”

You nodded, exhaling shakily. “Okay.”

Slowly, he pushed in, just the tip at first, giving you a moment to adjust. The stretch was unlike anything you’d ever felt—foreign and intense, but not unbearable. You whimpered softly, your hands instinctively clutching at his shoulders.

“Shhh,” Matt whispered, his lips brushing against your temple. “I know, I know. You’re doing so well, Y/N. Just breathe for me.”

He pushed in a little further, and the sensation grew sharper. Your body tensed, a mix of discomfort and pleasure coursing through you. A small tear slipped down your cheek, and Matt immediately noticed, freezing in place.

“Y/N,” he said softly, concern lacing his voice. He wiped the tear away with his thumb, his brows knitting together. “We can stop if it hurts too much. Just say the word.”

“No,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “No, I’m fine. I promise. It’s just… a lot.”

Matt hesitated, his eyes searching yours for any sign of uncertainty. “How much are you in?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He exhaled slowly, his voice low and steady. “A little more than half, princess.”

You nodded, swallowing hard as you tried to relax. “Okay. Keep going,” you said softly, your voice trembling but determined.

“Are you sure?” he asked again, his thumb brushing over your cheek reassuringly.

“I’m sure,” you whispered, giving him a small smile despite the tension in your body.

Matt leaned down to kiss you, his lips warm and soft against yours. The kiss was meant to distract you, and it worked. Your focus shifted to the way his lips moved with yours, how his hand cradled your face so tenderly.

As the kiss deepened, he slowly pushed in the rest of the way, and before you knew it, he was fully inside you. You gasped softly, your body adjusting to the feeling of fullness. Matt stilled immediately, his forehead resting against yours as he whispered, “Take your time, Y/N. Tell me when you’re ready.”

You took a few deep breaths, letting yourself adjust to the sensation. The initial discomfort was fading, replaced by a growing warmth that spread through you.

After a moment, you nodded, your voice steady as you said, “You can move now, Matt.”

He kissed you again, murmuring, “Okay, baby. I’ll go slow.”

Matt began to move slowly, pulling out just a little before easing back in. The sensation was intense but steady, giving you time to adjust with each gentle thrust. He kissed you tenderly, his lips brushing against yours in a way that sent warmth through your entire body.

“You okay?” he murmured, his voice breathless but still full of concern as his eyes locked on yours.

“Yes,” you whispered, your hands gripping his shoulders for support. “It’s… good.”

He smiled softly, leaning down to kiss you again. “Tell me if you want me to stop, alright?”

“I will,” you assured him, your voice trembling slightly but filled with trust.

He continued his slow rhythm, his hips moving against yours with precision. The sensation began to shift, the initial discomfort melting into something deeper, something that sent sparks of pleasure through you. Your breathing grew heavier, and you let out a soft whimper as your body started to relax into his movements.

“Faster,” you whispered, barely audible at first. When he didn’t respond immediately, you repeated it, louder this time. “Faster, please.”

Matt froze for just a second, searching your face for confirmation. When he saw the need in your eyes, he nodded, his lips curving into a small smile. “Okay, baby,” he said, his voice low and full of warmth.

He shifted slightly, his pace increasing as he thrust into you more firmly. The new rhythm sent waves of pleasure through your body, and you couldn’t help but moan softly, your hands clinging to him as if he were your anchor.

“You feel so good,” he whispered, his forehead pressing against yours as his breath came in short pants. “So perfect.”

You whimpered in response, the pleasure building with every thrust. Your bodies moved in sync, his movements growing quicker and more confident as the tension in the air thickened. The room filled with the sound of skin meeting skin, a steady rhythm that echoed around you.

Matt leaned down to kiss you, his lips capturing yours in a heated, desperate kiss. The intensity of the moment deepened, your tongues tangling as you melted into each other. The kiss was messy, filled with passion, but it grounded you in the intimacy of the moment.

As his pace quickened, one of his hands slid between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit with practiced ease. The moment he touched you there, your entire body tensed, a loud moan slipping from your lips before you could stop it.

Matt’s hand quickly moved to cover your mouth, his own breathing ragged as he whispered, “Shhh, baby. I know it’s hard, but you’ve gotta keep quiet.”

You nodded against his hand, your eyes wide as you tried to stifle the sounds spilling from you. The pressure in your core grew unbearable, the pleasure building to a point where it felt like you might burst.

“Come on,” Matt panted, his voice thick with desire as he leaned down to kiss your jaw, your neck, and then your shoulder. “Cum for me, Y/N. Be my good girl.”

His words sent you over the edge. Your body tightened around him as the orgasm crashed over you, waves of pleasure radiating from your core. You cried out into his hand, your muffled moans filling the room as your body trembled beneath him.

Matt’s pace grew erratic, his movements more desperate as your body clenched around him. He groaned low in his throat, the sound sending a shiver through you. His hands gripped your hips, and with one final thrust, he stilled, his face buried in the crook of your neck as he came.

You never thought you’d hear your best friend moan like that, his breath hot against your skin as his body trembled above you. But here you were, in Matt’s bed, tangled together and completely out of breath as the haze of pleasure began to fade. Your body felt heavy, your limbs relaxed, and the room was silent except for the sound of your shared breathing.

Matt lifted his head slightly, his dark eyes meeting yours. There was something in his gaze—softness, maybe even vulnerability—that made your chest ache in the best way. He shifted to the side, pulling out slowly and discarding the condom in the trash next to his bed before lying beside you.

You stared at the ceiling for a moment, still trying to process what had just happened. It felt surreal, like a fever dream you didn’t want to wake up from.

Finally, you broke the silence, turning your head to look at him. “That was… amazing,” you said softly, your voice still a little breathless. “Thank you so much, Matt.”

A slow, sweet smile spread across his face as he propped himself up on one elbow, leaning closer to you. He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face and tucking it behind your ear. “Of course, princess,” he said softly, his voice warm and full of affection.

The nickname sent a flutter through your chest, and you couldn’t help but smile back at him. His hand lingered on your cheek for a moment before he let it fall back to his side, his eyes never leaving yours.

“You okay?” he asked, his tone careful and sincere.

“Yeah,” you replied, nodding as you shifted onto your side to face him fully. “Better than okay.”

“Good,” he said with a small grin, his fingers tracing absent patterns on the sheet between you. “I’m glad. I wanted it to be good for you.”

“It was,” you reassured him, your smile widening. “More than good.”

He chuckled softly, his expression turning a little shy as he looked down briefly before meeting your gaze again. “I, uh… I never thought this would happen,” he admitted. “But I’m glad it did.”

“Me too,” you said quietly, feeling your cheeks heat again. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence between you comfortable and filled with unspoken understanding. You reached out, your fingers brushing against his on the sheet. He laced them together without hesitation, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

As the silence between you stretched, you couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh, the sound breaking through the quiet of the room.

Matt tilted his head, his brows furrowing in confusion as a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “What’s so funny?” he asked, shifting slightly to prop himself up on one elbow, looking down at you with a mix of curiosity and amusement.

You covered your face with your hands for a moment, trying to stifle the giggles bubbling up. “I don’t know,” you managed between breaths, your laughter spilling out uncontrollably. “This whole situation—it’s just… surreal.”

Matt smiled, watching you fondly as your laughter filled the room. “Surreal how?” he asked, gently pulling your hands away from your face so he could see you fully.

You turned your head to look at him, your cheeks still warm from both laughter and the afterglow of what had just happened. “I mean, I never thought my first time would be with my best friend,” you admitted, your voice tinged with humor. “But here we are, and it was… perfect. Like, weirdly perfect.”

Matt chuckled softly, his fingers brushing over the back of your hand. “Weirdly perfect, huh? I’ll take it.”

You grinned at him, the corners of your eyes crinkling. “It was. Really. But,” you paused, your laughter bubbling up again as you turned onto your side to face him, “I think we should definitely do this again.”

Matt’s eyes widened for a split second, but then he burst into laughter alongside you, his deep, warm laugh filling the space between you. “Oh, we definitely will, princess,” he said, his voice low and full of promise, the nickname rolling off his tongue with a confidence that made your stomach flutter.

The two of you lay there for a while longer, your laughter fading into quiet smiles as the reality of the moment sank in. Matt pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you securely as you rested your head against his chest.

Years later, not much had changed between you. If anything, the rivalry had only grown stronger, more venomous, as you both became fixtures in Figure 8’s elite social scene. Wherever you were, Rafe wasn’t far behind, and the feeling of mutual loathing had followed you through middle school, high school, and now, even into your early twenties.

Everyone in Figure 8 knew of your animosity. Some thought it was amusing—two golden children of Kildare’s wealthiest families constantly at each other’s throats. Others whispered, wondering if there wasn’t something else lurking beneath all that hatred, but you always scoffed at the idea.

Tonight was no different.

The annual Figure 8 Gala was a glamorous event, one that drew all the old-money families out of their grand estates and onto the dance floor, where champagne flowed like water and gossip circulated in hushed, excited tones. You stood near the bar, wearing a sleek black dress that made you look effortlessly elegant. You had a glass of wine in your hand, but you weren’t drinking much. Instead, your eyes flitted over the crowd, looking for an exit. As much as you tried to tolerate these events, they always left you feeling restless.

Just as you took a sip, you heard that all-too-familiar voice behind you.

“Surprised to see you here. Didn’t think this was your scene anymore,” Rafe sneered, his presence commanding attention without even trying.

You set your glass down on the bar, not turning around yet. The tension between you two was palpable, even before you exchanged a single glance.

“Rafe, are you stalking me now, or is it just that you have nothing better to do with your life?” you retorted, finallyspinning around to face him.

He looked infuriatingly good, dressed in a tailored black suit that highlighted his broad shoulders and sharp jawline. His eyes, blue and piercing, studied you for a moment before a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Always the charming one,” he said mockingly, stepping closer. “Remind me, how many years have you been trying to get under my skin? I’m starting to lose count.”

You crossed your arms, refusing to let him intimidate you. “I don’t have to try. You make it way too easy.”

Rafe chuckled, a low sound that made your skin prickle with annoyance. “Oh, trust me, princess, you’ve been trying. Ever since we were kids.”

At that, your glare sharpened. "Please. If anyone’s been obsessed with the past, it’s you. I’ve moved on from our childish nonsense a long time ago.”

“Right,” he drawled, raising an eyebrow. “That’s why you’re standing here, looking like you’re about to snap my neck just because I’m breathing in the same room as you.”

“I’m standing here because I’m trying to enjoy my night without you ruining it,” you shot back, voice icy. “But clearly, that’s asking for too much.”

He leaned in, his breath ghosting over your ear. “You’re enjoying this just as much as I am.”

You pulled back immediately, staring at him like he’d just insulted you. “You’re delusional if you think I enjoy anything about you.”

Rafe tilted his head, considering you with a smug look that only made your blood boil more. “You used to care what I thought. Back in the day. Admit it.”

You scoffed, brushing past him, though he was quick to catch up, his long strides keeping him close. “I never cared about your opinion, Rafe. You’ve always been a spoiled, arrogant—”

“Rich boy?” he finished for you, a sarcastic glint in his eyes. “You keep throwing that around like it’s supposed to insult me.”

“It’s not an insult,” you replied, your voice low but steady. “It’s a fact.”

He stopped in front of you, blocking your path. The tension between you both was starting to draw attention from the surrounding party-goers, who were now casting curious glances in your direction. Some even whispered to one another, probably amused at the latest chapter in the saga of Rafe Cameron vs. You.

“Why do you hate me so much?” Rafe’s question came suddenly, his tone different—less mocking, more…curious. His brow furrowed as if he genuinely wanted to know the answer. “What is it, huh?”

You blinked at him, momentarily thrown by the shift in his attitude. “I—what?”

“You heard me,” he said, taking a step closer, his voice dropping. “Why do you hate me? Because, from where I’m standing, it feels like you put more effort into this than necessary. I know I’m not the nicest guy around, but…” He trailed off, watching you with a sharpness that you hadn’t seen before. It was unnerving.

You swallowed hard, straightening your posture as you searched for a retort. You couldn’t let him get to you. Not like this. “It’s easy to hate you, Rafe. You make it easy.”

He nodded slowly, as if contemplating your words. His lips twitched, forming a tight smile. “Because it’s easier to hate me than admit anything else, right?”

“What the hell does that mean?” you snapped, suddenly defensive.

“It means,” Rafe started, closing the distance between you again, his voice lowering to a near whisper, “you spend so much time convincing yourself that I’m the problem, but maybe the problem is you can’t stand the fact that we’re more alike than you want to admit.”

You opened your mouth to argue, to tell him he was wrong, but nothing came out. For a split second, his words hung in the air, wrapping around you like a vice. The tension between you two felt different, heavier, like it was building toward something neither of you could control.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you finally managed to say, though your voice lacked the usual venom.

His smirk returned, but there was something else behind it now. Something almost…challenging. “Oh, I don’t have to. You’re already thinking about it, aren’t you?”

“I’m not thinking about anything except how to get away from you,” you shot back, turning on your heel to leave. But his hand caught your wrist, stopping you.

“Funny,” he murmured, his voice dark and teasing. “Because every time you walk away, you always come back.”

A rush of frustration surged through you, his words clawing at something deeper, something you hadn’t been willing to admit for a long time. Maybe it was the constant proximity, maybe it was the years of bickering, or maybe it was the way he stood there, challenging you with every look, every smirk, every damn word. You felt your pulse quicken, your heart hammering in your chest as the room seemed to grow smaller.

You exhaled sharply, the weight of the moment pressing down on you, overwhelming you.

"Fuck this," you muttered under your breath.

Without giving yourself time to think—or regret—you grabbed Rafe by the front of his jacket and pulled him with you, weaving through the crowd. You didn’t know where you were going at first, but the second you spotted the nearest bathroom, you headed straight for it. Your heels clicked furiously against the polished floor as Rafe followed, clearly taken by surprise but not resisting.

The bathroom door slammed behind you, not locking, but you didn’t care.

Before you could second-guess yourself, your hands gripped his collar, pulling him down as your lips crashed into his. It wasn’t gentle; it wasn’t careful. It was desperate, heated—years of tension and frustration finally spilling over.

Rafe groaned into your mouth, his hands immediately gripping your waist as if he’d been waiting for this moment just as much as you had. The kiss was fierce, all teeth and tongue, neither of you giving the other a moment to breathe.

“Always so dramatic,” Rafe muttered against your lips between heavy breaths, his fingers sliding up your back, sending shivers down your spine.

“Shut up,” you breathed, your fingers tangling in his hair as you deepened the kiss, wanting—needing—more.

He chuckled against your mouth, but the sound quickly turned into a low growl as his hands roamed down to your hips, gripping you with an intensity that made your legs feel weak.

Before you knew it, he lifted you effortlessly, your back pressing against the cool bathroom counter as he hoisted you up onto it. You gasped as the cold surface met your thighs, but the feeling was quickly replaced by the heat of his hands sliding up your legs, parting them with a slow, deliberate motion.

His lips were on your neck again, sucking and biting in a way that made it impossible to think straight. You could feel his breath hitch as he pressed harder into you, his body flush against yours.

“You’re not gonna stop me this time, are you?” Rafe’s voice was rough, low, almost daring you to push him away.

“Try me,” you muttered, breathless, your nails digging into his shoulders as you pulled him closer.

Rafe smirked, his eyes dark with something more than just arrogance. His hands tightened around your waist as he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours again. "I always knew you wanted me,” he whispered, his voice dripping with that familiar cockiness, but this time, you didn’t bother to deny it.

“You think too much,” you replied, your voice coming out in a breathy rush, and before he could respond, you crashed your lips into his again. This time, there was no holding back, no hesitation. Just pure, heated want.

He groaned into your mouth, the sound vibrating against your lips as his hands slid up the inside of your thighs, parting your legs even further. The counter pressed against your back, the cold contrast making the heat between your bodies even more intense.

Your heart raced as his touch became more insistent, his fingers digging into your skin like he couldn’t get enough of you. And you couldn’t get enough of him, either. Everything about this moment was wrong, but it felt so damn right.

You didn’t stop him. You didn’t want to.

You barely registered what you were doing as your fingers reached for the buttons of Rafe’s shirt, fumbling slightly in your haste to get it off. He broke the kiss for a brief second, just long enough to glance down at your hands before smirking. Without a word, he quickly helped you, undoing the buttons faster and shoving the fabric off his shoulders. His skin was warm beneath your touch, the heat of his body driving you crazy as your hands ran over the hard planes of his chest.

He didn’t waste any time either. His hands slid down your waist, rough and urgent, before they disappeared under your dress. With one swift motion, he pushed it up around your hips, his fingertips skimming over your thighs as he hooked his fingers around the waistband of your panties.

“Let’s get these off,” Rafe growled, voice thick with lust as he pulled them down in one quick motion, leaving you bare beneath him. He tossed them aside carelessly, his hands immediately returning to your thighs, spreading your legs wider.

You gasped, both from the sudden exposure and the way his touch sent a rush of heat pooling low in your belly. Your mind was spinning, caught somewhere between disbelief and pure, unfiltered desire. This was happening, and it was happening fast, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop it. Not when every touch, every breath, made your skin burn with need.

Rafe’s hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter, his body pressing firmly against yours. He took a moment to look down at you, his blue eyes darkened with lust, a cocky grin pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“I always knew you couldn’t resist me,” he teased, his voice low and dripping with that same arrogant charm that had always made you want to slap him—except now, it made you want him even more.

“Shut up,” you breathed, your hands flying to his belt, desperate to unbuckle it and get it out of the way. The sound of the leather slipping free was loud in the small bathroom, but all you could focus on was the feel of his skin against yours as you finally managed to free him from his pants.

“Someone’s eager,” Rafe murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he kicked off his shoes and pushed his pants and boxers down in one swift movement.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, your pulse racing as he pressed his hips against yours, the feel of him—hard and ready—against your entrance sending a fresh wave of heat coursing through your body.

“Rafe,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own ragged breathing.

His eyes met yours, the cocky grin gone, replaced by something far more intense. Without saying a word, he positioned himself between your legs, one hand gripping your thigh as the other lined himself up at your entrance. There was no warning, no teasing, just the raw, primal need driving both of you.

In one smooth thrust, he pushed inside, and both of you let out matching moans, the sound filling the small bathroom as your bodies collided.

“Fuck,” Rafe groaned, his head dropping to your shoulder as he paused for a moment, letting you adjust to the feeling of him deep inside you. His breath was hot against your neck, his grip on your hips tightening as he fought to keep himself under control.

You gasped, your nails digging into his bare shoulders as your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper. The stretch was intense, the pressure overwhelming, but it felt so good, too good. Your head fell back against the mirror behind you, your body arching against his as the tension in the air became almost unbearable.

“God, Rafe,” you whimpered, biting your lip as you tried to catch your breath. “Don’t stop.”

His eyes flicked up to meet yours, and the look he gave you was pure hunger. “Wasn’t planning on it,” he growled, and with that, he started to move.

His thrusts were slow at first, controlled, as if he was savoring the feeling of you wrapped around him. But it wasn’t long before the pace quickened, the heat between you building with each movement. His hands gripped your hips tighter, pulling you against him with every thrust, his body driving into yours with an intensity that left you breathless.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Rafe groaned, his voice rough and filled with raw desire. His lips found yours again, but this kiss was different—hotter, needier, all tongues and teeth as his hips snapped forward, hitting deeper every time.

You couldn’t hold back the moans that escaped your lips, each thrust sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. Your nails dug into his back as you clung to him, your body rocking with his, matching his rhythm. It was fast, frantic, like you both needed this more than air.

“Rafe…” You breathed his name again, a plea, a warning. Your entire body was wound tight, the tension coiling low in your belly, threatening to snap at any moment.

“Say it again,” he demanded, his voice thick and strained as he drove into you harder, his forehead resting against yours. “Say my name.”

“Rafe,” you gasped, your voice breaking as another wave of pleasure crashed through you. You were close, so close, and he knew it.

“Good girl,” he muttered, his lips brushing against yours as he thrust deeper, the angle hitting just right, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your veins. “You’re so fucking perfect like this.”

You could barely respond, too lost in the feeling of him inside you, the overwhelming sensation building with each thrust, each ragged breath. Your legs tightened around his waist, pulling him closer, deeper, as your nails raked down his back.

“Fuck, I’m close,” you managed to gasp, your head falling back as the pleasure built to a breaking point, your entire body trembling.

Rafe groaned in response, his thrusts becoming erratic, more desperate as he chased his own release. “Me too, baby,” he muttered against your skin, his voice strained. “Come for me.”

And that was all it took.

With one final, hard thrust, the tension inside you snapped, sending you over the edge. A moan tore from your lips, your entire body shaking as waves of pleasure crashed through you, overwhelming your senses.

Rafe wasn’t far behind. You felt him tense, his grip on your hips tightening as he buried himself inside you, groaning as he reached his own release. His breath was hot against your neck, his body pressed against yours as he rode out the last waves of pleasure, his hips moving in slow, lazy thrusts.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was your ragged breathing, both of you trying to catch your breath as the intensity of what just happened settled between you.

Rafe pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours as he looked at you, a mixture of satisfaction and something else—something unreadable—in his eyes.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice low and still rough from exertion.

You nodded, still trying to process everything. “Yeah… more than okay,” you whispered, a small, breathless laugh escaping your lips.

Rafe smirked, that cocky grin you knew so well making its return. “Knew you couldn’t resist me.”

As the rush of the moment slowly faded, the sound of your combined heavy breathing filled the small space. Rafe’s hands still gripped your waist, his forehead resting against yours as both of you tried to come down from the intense high. Your skin was flushed, tingling from where he had touched you, the heat of your bodies still lingering in the air.

Neither of you said a word for a few moments, the silence stretching between you, filled with the weight of what had just happened. You were still perched on the counter, your dress bunched around your hips, both of you completely undressed, the reality of your situation slowly settling in.

Rafe leaned back slightly, his eyes scanning over your face as if trying to make sure this was all real. A small, cocky smile began to creep onto his lips. “That was… something,” he breathed, his thumb gently brushing against your thigh.

You couldn’t help but let out a small, breathless laugh, shaking your head as you tried to gather yourself. “Yeah,” you whispered, your own cheeks still burning, your heart racing for a whole new reason. “Something.”

Just as you were about to say more, the faint creak of the bathroom door opening snapped both of your heads toward the sound.

Panic hit you like a tidal wave, your breath catching in your throat as your eyes widened in horror. You had barely registered the fact that you were still practically naked, tangled in Rafe, when two familiar figures stepped into the bathroom—your dad and Ward Cameron.

The room seemed to freeze for a second. Your heart dropped into your stomach as you stared, wide-eyed, at the two men now standing in front of you. They didn’t even look surprised—more like they had walked in on something they’d been expecting all along.

“Oh my god,” you mumbled, your voice barely audible, your face flushing even redder than it already was. You quickly moved to cover yourself, but it was too late. You’d been caught. You felt the heat rise to your cheeks, mortification crashing over you like a wave.

Rafe, equally frozen for a moment, blinked before quickly stepping in front of you, blocking their view as much as possible. “Oh my god, Dad, get out!” he shouted, his voice louder than necessary, sounding more like a demand than a request.

Your dad chuckled first, breaking the silence with a deep, amused laugh that made your embarrassment ten times worse. He exchanged a look with Ward, who simply shook his head with a knowing smile, as if the two of them had been waiting for this moment.

“Well, look at that,” Ward said, his tone full of dry amusement as he turned to face Rafe. “Took you two long enough to finally get along.”

Rafe groaned in frustration, his face flushed as he tried to shield you from view, his hands scrambling to grab his discarded shirt. “Dad, seriously—get out!” he snapped again, his voice full of exasperation.

Your dad shook his head, still chuckling softly. “We’ll give you two a moment,” he said, his voice tinged with amusement as he turned around to leave. “But don’t take too long. The gala’s still going on, after all.”

Ward followed suit, giving one last look over his shoulder, an almost proud smirk on his face. “Nice work, son,” he said, before closing the door behind him.

As soon as the door clicked shut, you let out a groan, burying your face in your hands. “Oh my god, that did not just happen,” you muttered, your cheeks still burning with embarrassment. You could still hear the faint sound of their laughter echoing down the hallway.

Rafe let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head in disbelief. “That’s just… unreal,” he grumbled, running a hand through his hair, clearly as mortified as you were. “I can’t believe they—”

You cut him off with a shaky laugh, your hands still covering your face. “This is officially the worst way this could have ended.”

Rafe chuckled softly, clearly trying to shake off the awkwardness of the situation. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment. “Yeah, well,” he murmured, his voice light and teasing, “at least they didn’t kill me.”

You let out a weak laugh, finally pulling your hands away from your face to look up at him. “Yet,” you replied, your voice dry as you shook your head. “They didn’t kill you yet.”

Rafe grinned down at you, his eyes sparkling with that familiar mischief. “Guess we’ll just have to see how long I can stay alive, huh?”

You laughed again, the tension between you easing just a little. Despite everything—the panic, the embarrassment—there was still that undeniable spark between you, something deeper that neither of you could ignore anymore. Whatever had happened tonight, it had changed everything.

“Let’s just… not talk about this,” you muttered, still trying to shake off the mortification as you grabbed for your clothes, ready to escape the bathroom as fast as possible.

“Deal,” Rafe agreed, already pulling his shirt back on, though his eyes lingered on you with that same heated intensity, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “For now.”

But tonight, standing on the outskirts of a bonfire you’d stumbled upon, you wished more than anything that you could join in. Laughter and music filled the air as the crowd danced around the fire, carefree and full of life. You lingered near the edge, unsure whether you belonged. You had never been good at fitting in.

As you turned to leave, a voice called out, “Hey! You good?”

You froze, caught off guard. Turning back, you saw a blond guy standing just a few feet away, his blue eyes catching the glow of the fire. His grin was disarming, and he looked at you with genuine curiosity.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you said, though your voice wavered slightly.

He tilted his head, clearly not buying it but not pushing. “I’m JJ. JJ Maybank.” He extended his hand with a lopsided grin.

“Y/N,” you replied, taking his hand. His grip was warm, his smile almost contagious. For a second, you didn’t feel as alone.

“You new around here?” JJ asked, shoving his hands into his pockets, his stance relaxed.

You nodded, glancing down at the sand. “Just moved here a few weeks ago. Don’t really know anyone.”

JJ’s eyes softened. “Well, now you know me. And that means you know a Pogue. We kind of stick together. You should hang with us sometime.”

You gave a small smile, feeling a tiny flicker of hope. “Maybe.”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝

From that night, JJ started pulling you into his world. You found yourself spending afternoons with him, riding his dirt bike, hanging out by the marina, or simply sitting by the water, talking about nothing and everything. You felt lighter around him, the weight of your home life less crushing. But what JJ didn’t know was the real darkness you kept hidden—the bruises you covered, the fear that followed you every night when you walked back into that house.

The abuse had been going on for years. Moving to the Outer Banks hadn’t changed a thing. Your father still drank, still lashed out at you when things didn’t go his way. It didn’t matter how hard you tried to avoid him or how quiet you stayed; it always escalated.

That night, you had barely spoken a word to him, hoping to slip by unnoticed. But he had been waiting, drink in hand, eyes already bloodshot. “Where the hell have you been?” he slurred, blocking your way to your room.

“Just out,” you murmured, keeping your gaze down, your heart already racing.

“Out?” he scoffed, stepping closer. “Out where? Whoring around like your mother?”

“No, Dad—” you began, your voice shaking, but his hand flew out before you could finish, striking you across the face with such force that you stumbled backward into the wall.

“You don’t talk back to me!” he roared, his face twisted with rage. He grabbed you by the arm, yanking you toward him. “You think you can just ignore me? You’re nothing without me!”

The blows came fast—his fists slamming into your stomach, your ribs, your face. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t fight back. All you could do was try to shield yourself as his anger poured out, every hit more brutal than the last.

When he finally let go, you collapsed to the floor, gasping for air, your body trembling in pain. He stormed out, muttering curses under his breath, leaving you broken and bleeding on the ground.

For what felt like hours, you lay there, your whole body throbbing with pain. You couldn’t move. But then, your phone buzzed in your pocket. With shaking hands, you pulled it out and, without thinking, dialed JJ’s number.

“Y/N?” His voice was casual at first, but then he heard your broken sob. “Y/N? What’s wrong?”

You couldn’t even speak. Your words came out in broken gasps, hysterical and full of pain. “JJ… I— I can’t… He—” You sobbed harder, unable to string a sentence together.

“Where are you?” JJ’s voice shifted, all playfulness gone. “Y/N, where are you?”

“Home,” you managed to choke out, your breath hitching. “I need… I need to get out.”

“Stay there. I’m coming. Don’t move,” he said, his voice urgent. Then the call ended.

It felt like an eternity, but soon enough, you heard the rumble of JJ’s dirt bike outside. The door burst open moments later, and JJ stood there, breathless, his eyes wide with shock as he took in your battered face, your trembling form curled up on the floor.

“Jesus Christ,” he whispered, running to you without hesitation. He knelt down, wrapping his arms around you as you collapsed into him. The second you felt his warmth, the dam broke. You sobbed into his chest, your body shaking uncontrollably as the pain, fear, and humiliation finally poured out.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” JJ whispered, pulling you closer. His hand stroked your hair, his voice soft but steady. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”

You didn’t know how long you stayed like that—crying in his arms as he whispered reassurances, his own breath shaky with emotion. Eventually, he gently lifted you to your feet, guiding you outside to his dirt bike.

“We’re going to the Chateau,” he murmured. “You can stay there tonight. You don’t have to go back, okay?”

You nodded weakly, unable to protest. You didn’t have the strength.

The ride was a blur—wind rushing past your face as JJ sped through the streets, his arm firmly around your waist, making sure you wouldn’t fall. The pain in your body throbbed with every bump, but you clung to JJ, desperate for the safety he represented.

When you arrived at the Chateau, JJ parked the bike and helped you off. He didn’t let go of you as you stumbled, his arms steadying you as he led you inside. The Pogues—John B, Sarah, Pope, and Kiara—were hanging out by the fire pit, laughing and talking, but when they saw you, their faces fell, the laughter dying in an instant.

“Holy shit…” John B muttered, his eyes wide as he looked at you.

JJ didn’t stop. He led you past them without a word, taking you into the small bathroom. It was cramped, with just enough room for you to sit on the counter.

JJ gently ran the damp washcloth under the faucet and put some disinfectant on it. He’s glancing at you as you sit on the counter, your legs dangling off the edge, shoulders slumped in exhaustion. His movements were slow, almost too careful as if he was afraid he might hurt you more.

“Alright,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. “This is gonna sting a little, okay?”

You nodded, but you didn’t really have the energy to brace yourself. Your face felt swollen, your whole body ached, but the numbness was creeping in. It was the aftermath of every beating—when the shock started to settle, and the pain became background noise.

JJ brought the cloth to your cheek, dabbing gently at the cut just beneath your eye. You winced, the sting sharper than expected. He paused instantly.

“Shh,” JJ soothed, his voice soft but firm. “It’s alright. Just breathe. You’re doing good.” He resumed wiping the blood away, moving slower, more cautious.

You blinked back fresh tears, biting your lip to keep from crying out. “Is it bad?” you whispered, your voice shaky.

JJ’s eyes flicked to yours, his jaw clenched tightly as he worked. “It’s… not great,” he admitted, his throat tight. “But it’s gonna be okay. We’ll fix you up.” His voice wavered slightly, like he was trying to convince himself as much as he was you.

His hand trailed down to your chin, tilting your head so he could see the full extent of the damage. “Is it just your face?” he asked, his voice laced with quiet concern. “Or… is there more?”

You hesitated, your gaze dropping to the floor. “It’s not just my face.” Your voice was barely audible, but JJ heard it. His face darkened, and he closed his eyes for a brief second, steadying himself.

“Where?” he asked, his tone more serious now. He knelt down in front of you, eye level, waiting for you to answer.

“My ribs,” you murmured, blinking back tears. “My stomach.” The words felt heavy, like speaking them aloud made everything more real. You instinctively hugged yourself, your arms wrapped around your torso protectively.

JJ’s expression turned pained, but he didn’t push you to show him. He just nodded, focusing on your face again as he continued cleaning the cut. His hand trembled slightly, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin, wiping away the dirt and blood.

As he worked, you found it hard to breathe. Not just from the pain, but from the overwhelming weight of everything—your father, the abuse, the years of pretending everything was fine. It all came crashing down, and before you knew it, your chest tightened, and your breath hitched.

“Hey, hey,” JJ murmured softly, his hand coming to rest on your knee as he stopped wiping. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you, okay?” His voice was calm, steady, but there was an intensity behind it, a promise you wanted so desperately to believe.

Your lip quivered, and before you could stop yourself, the floodgates opened. “He wasn’t always like this,” you choked out, your voice breaking. “My dad… he used to be good. But then he started drinking. And it just got worse and worse.”

JJ’s hand stilled, his eyes locked on yours, listening intently as you continued, the words tumbling out in a broken mess.

“It started small,” you whispered, shaking your head. “Just yelling. Getting angry over stupid things. Then the drinking got heavier. He’d disappear for days, come back even worse. Then… then he started hitting me. It’s like… he hates me. Like I remind him of everything that went wrong.”

Your breath hitched, and you wiped at your eyes, but it was no use. The tears came anyway. “I don’t know what I did wrong,” you sobbed, your voice raw. “I’ve been trying so hard to keep quiet, to not make him mad. But it’s never enough.”

JJ’s grip tightened on your knee, his jaw clenched so tightly you could see the tension in his face. He wasn’t just sad; he was angry. Furious, even. But not at you. Never at you.

“He hit you tonight because… because you were out with me, didn’t he?” JJ asked, his voice low, barely controlled.

You nodded, feeling the fresh wave of shame wash over you. “He said… he said I was a slut, like my mother. That I was worthless.”

JJ cursed under his breath, his hands trembling as he gently cupped your face, making you look at him. His eyes were blazing with emotion. “You are not worthless. You hear me? You’re not any of those things he says. He’s wrong, Y/N. He’s fucking wrong.”

You broke then, fully. Sobbing harder than you had in years, every painful memory, every insult, every blow came crashing down on you all at once. You collapsed into JJ’s chest, your body shaking with the force of your cries. He held you tightly, his arms wrapping around you like a shield, like he could protect you from everything in the world if he just held on hard enough.

“It’s okay,” JJ whispered into your hair, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve got you. I’m not letting anything happen to you ever again.”

You cried harder, clutching onto his shirt as if it were the only thing keeping you grounded. For the first time in forever, you felt safe, even if just for a moment. JJ’s arms were like an anchor, keeping you from sinking under the weight of it all.

After what felt like an eternity, your sobs quieted into soft hiccups, your body exhausted. JJ still held you, his chin resting gently on the top of your head, his fingers brushing softly through your hair. You stayed there in the silence, the only sound the occasional crackling of the fire outside and the soft hum of the night.

After a long stretch of silence, JJ finally spoke. “I know what you’re going through,” he said quietly, his voice rough. “My dad… he’s the same way.”

You stiffened slightly, lifting your head to look at him. He wasn’t looking at you now. His gaze was distant, staring at the floor as he spoke.

“Drinks too much, hits me when he’s pissed off… which is most of the time,” JJ continued, his voice raw with pain. “It’s why I stay here with John B most of the time. I can’t go home. Haven’t really had a home in a long time.”

The sadness in his voice cut deep. You had never imagined that JJ—the carefree, loud, rebellious JJ—was carrying this kind of pain. But there it was, written all over his face, in the way his shoulders slumped, in the tightness around his eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you whispered, your voice small.

JJ’s gaze finally met yours, and he gave you a sad, tired smile. “Same reason you didn’t tell me. Didn’t wanna drag you into it. Didn’t think it mattered.”

“It matters,” you said softly, your voice trembling. “You matter.”

JJ’s eyes softened, and for the first time since you’d met him, you saw vulnerability there. He opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it again, as if he couldn’t find the right words.

Instead, he pulled you into another hug, holding you tightly, resting his chin on your head again. Neither of you said anything more, but the weight of the silence was full of understanding. Two people, broken by the ones who were supposed to protect them, finding comfort in each other’s presence.

JJ held you close, his arms tightening around you, as if he could protect you from everything. But as his grip grew stronger, a sharp pain radiated through your bruised torso, and you flinched without meaning to. JJ felt it instantly, his arms loosening as he pulled back, concern flooding his eyes.

“Shit,” he murmured, panic lacing his voice. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

You shook your head, trying to reassure him through the pain. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t.”

JJ hesitated, biting his lip as his eyes flickered over you, the weight of something unspoken lingering in the air. His fingers twitched at his side like he was fighting an internal battle. Finally, he spoke, his voice quieter than before. “Can I… Can I see? I just— I wanna make sure you’re okay.”

You felt your breath hitch at the question, your heart racing in your chest. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust him. You did—more than anyone. But letting him see the extent of the damage, the bruises you usually hid so carefully, felt terrifying. Vulnerable.

But JJ had been nothing but kind, patient, gentle with you. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you—not like your father.

You swallowed hard, then gave him a small, shaky nod.

JJ’s gaze softened, but he still hesitated, like he didn’t want to pressure you. You reached for the hem of your shirt, taking a deep breath before slowly lifting it over your head. Even with a sports bra on, the damage was clear. Dark bruises covered your ribs and stomach, blooming in purples, blues, and greens, each one telling a story of a night you wished you could forget.

The sight of your bruised skin hit JJ like a gut punch. His breath caught in his throat, his face crumpling as his eyes welled up with tears. He stared at you, unable to hide the devastation in his expression. His hand reached out, hovering above your side like he wanted to touch you but was too afraid to.

For a few long seconds, you just looked at each other. The air between you was thick with unspoken words, with shared pain. JJ’s blue eyes shimmered, filled with emotions you had never seen from him before—anger, sadness, guilt, and something deeper, something that felt almost protective.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking as a tear slipped down his cheek. “I’m so fucking sorry this happened to you.”

He gently cupped your face, his hands warm and steady against your skin. His thumbs brushed away the tears that had started to fall again. Then, his forehead rested against yours, his breath mingling with yours as you both sat in that moment, the silence thick but full of understanding, full of care.

And then, without a word, JJ leaned in. His lips pressed softly against yours—tentative, gentle, but full of emotion. It wasn’t rushed, wasn’t frantic. It was the kind of kiss that held a promise, the kind that said he’d be there, that he wasn’t going to let you face this alone anymore.

Your hand found its way to his chest, clutching the fabric of his shirt as you kissed him back, the warmth of his body grounding you, pulling you out of the darkness. For the first time in what felt like forever, you didn’t feel broken. You felt safe. You felt… wanted.

When the kiss broke, JJ didn’t pull away. His hands stayed on your face, his forehead still resting on yours. His eyes stayed closed, like he was savoring the moment, as if he needed it as much as you did.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m not letting this happen to you again. Not ever.”