𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖗𝖞

Jason who's favorite position is prone.

Don't get it wrong, he's a complete amateur when it comes to sex. The first time you two fucked, he cried. So this little discovery, it was an accident, truly. He didn't mean to get carried away but you were squeezing him so good, and the pretty sounds you were making had his knees giving out.

At first, he had you face down, feeding you those deep strokes, the kind that leaves you breathless. But then he began to move, pushing at the curves of your hips, then your spine, forcing you down until your tummy presses against the soft sheets. And he can't help it, naturally wherever you go, he follows. So he lays himself right on top of you, he's so big too. Big thighs cage around your ass, grinding real deep and slow. It’s downright sinful. Jason Peter Todd in all his 6'1 glory, smothering you against the mattress and it's like something inside him clicks. His mind won’t shut the hell up because suddenly, you’ve gone all soft and pliant, and he’s whispering real filthy, “just needed some good dick, huh?”

His mind is so fucked out, he hasn’t realized how good he’s been fucking you until he registers your squirming and soft whining beneath him. Sometimes he forgets how big he is, all of him. Because in this position, he basically kisses your cervix. He’s taking his time, it’s torturous, the slow drag of his hips, and the way he bullies his way back in- pushing up against that sweet spot that makes you cream.

He’s got his lips pressed against your ear, cooing and shushing you so sweetly when you say you can’t take anymore. One hand pushing past your hips to pet at your sensitive clit, and you paw at his wrist- a weak attempt at pushing him away. It’s too much, he’s too big and he’s talking so fucking nasty in your ear you just can’t take it.

But every time you try to shut your legs in protest, his thighs flex and his ankles lock around yours, easily pushing them back open. Wordlessly saying, “take it, take it, take it”.

And after fucking you through your third orgasm, this man has the audacity to blush. Shoving his face into your neck but at some point, his mind gets all hazy. He latches his canines onto your throat and you cum. Still fucking you through the mattress, he works you up to your fourth. And when you finally come down, you sob out a half-hearted “mean”, but he doesn’t budge- just hushes you with a sickly sweet “did so good, baby”.

“that’s it, baby. just let it in.”

he groans against your cheek, voice low and syrupy, all breath and heat as he pushes into you—slow and thick and relentless. your arms tighten around his neck, thighs already shaking where they’re wrapped around his waist, but he’s got you. his big hands under your ass, his forearms braced strong and steady, holding you up like you weigh nothing.

“shhh,” he breathes, hips rolling forward again, grinding you up against the wall. “you’re doin’ so good for me, y’know that? takin’ it so sweet.”

your head falls back with a whimper, mouth open, eyes fluttering as he fucks up into you in smooth, deep strokes. every thrust presses his cock right against that soft spot inside you that makes your belly tense, your pussy flutter tight around him—and he feels it.

“there she is,” he murmurs, one palm sliding up your spine, holding you tighter as your body starts to tremble. “feelin’ full now, huh? yeah, i know, bunny. i know it’s a lot.”

his voice is thick with praise and control, all soft and condescending like he loves watching your brain melt. like he wants it. and you can’t even speak, too busy panting, clinging, trying to keep up with how deep he’s fucking you—slow but heavy, like he’s trying to imprint himself inside you.

“c’mon, you don’t have to think. just hold on to me,” he grits, teeth grazing your jaw as he thrusts up hard enough to bounce you. “that pretty little head’s too soft for all that thinkin’ right now, ain’t it?”

your moan cuts sharp and needy, hips twitching where they’re pinned in his grip. and he smiles—eyes dark, lips flushed, cock thick and wet from how soaked you already are.

“good fuckin’ girl. just stay dumb for me, alright?” he breathes, fucking you faster now, your skin slapping against his with each roll of his hips. “let daddy do all the work.”

you nod, helpless, dumbly clenching around him like your body’s trying to drag him deeper. and he groans—sharp and wrecked—then grits out, “jesus, bunny. squeezin’ me like you want it fuckin’ permanent.”

“that’s it, pups. keep those pretty eyes on me.”

you say it slow, dragging your hips over his one more time just to feel him twitch under you. he’s already ruined—thighs trembling, hands fisting the sheets, face flushed all the way down his chest—but you’re not letting him off easy. not tonight.

his mouth falls open in a broken gasp. “m—mommy—”

“shhh,” you purr, leaning down to drag your nails up his stomach. “you know i like it better when you don’t talk.”

he whines. literally whines.

you grind down again—harder this time, more deliberate—and his head tips back against the pillow like he’s trying to disappear into it, throat exposed, jaw tight with restraint. he’s been holding back, being good, waiting for you to let him come since the second you got on top of him. but you’re not even close to done playing yet.

you press your palm to his chest and rock your hips again, letting your pussy drag wet and slow over his cock until he’s shaking.

“oh my god—fuck—please,” he babbles, hips twitching uselessly under you. “please let me, i need—”

“need what?” you smile, already knowing. you roll your hips again and his breath catches in his throat. “you gonna cry for me, darling?”

his eyes flutter open—wet, dazed, full of you.

you love him like this. spread out, submissive, fucked-out and begging with nothing left to hold onto but the sound of your voice. he’s so easy to break. and so fucking beautiful when you do.

“you’re so loud tonight,” you murmur, leaning forward until your chest brushes his. your voice is soft now, teasing. “what happened to my quiet little boy?”

“you—fuck—you’re riding me so good,” he gasps, his hands twitching like he wants to touch you but knows better. “feels too good, i can’t—”

you cut him off by rolling your hips just right, your clit dragging against the base of his cock as you sink down onto him again. he lets out a helpless moan, full body arching under you, and you have to grip his throat to keep him in place.

“stay down.”

he freezes. goes pliant. eyes wide.

you sit up again, hands trailing down his chest, then your own body, fingers grazing your tits before gripping his hips and moving again. and he watches—of course he does—mouth slack, chest heaving, so desperate he looks like he might cry.

you bounce now. slow, rhythmic, letting him feel every inch of you slide over him. he’s dripping—his cock is soaked, red, twitching—and every time your pussy clenches around him, he whimpers.

“m’not gonna last,” he stammers. “please—mommy—i can’t—”

“you will.”

you slam down on him, hard. his whole body jolts. a strangled moan breaks out of his throat and his hands fly up to grab the headboard instead of you, because you told him not to touch. and he listens. like a good boy.

“you gonna come without permission, baby?” you taunt. “huh? you gonna make a mess for mommy without asking?”

he frantically shakes his head, panting. “no—no i’ll wait, i swear—i swear, i’ll be good—”

“yeah, you will,” you coo, running your fingers through his hair as you keep fucking him deep, steady, deliciously slow. “you’ll come when i tell you. not a second before.”

“yes,” he whimpers, eyes fluttering shut. “thank you, thank you—”

you fuck him harder.

the sound of skin slapping fills the room, filthy and wet and perfect. your slick drips down his cock, pooling under him, making a mess of the sheets you’re both too far gone to care about. he’s whining with every thrust now, hips bucking into yours even though you told him not to.

“aw, sweetheart,” you laugh breathlessly, leaning down to kiss the corner of his mouth. “you’re so fucking desperate. haven’t even touched you all day and you’re already shaking for me?”

“i need it,” he groans, nearly sobbing. “please, please—wanna come so bad, mommy, please—”

“not yet.”

he whines again, louder. needy and pathetic.

you clench around him just to watch his reaction. he shudders violently beneath you, chest heaving, sweat dripping down his temples. he looks so fucking pretty when he’s ruined.

“you really are my dumb little puppy, huh?” you whisper, licking a stripe up his throat. “just wanna be used, filled up, made stupid.”

he nods so fast you think he might hurt himself. “yes—yes—i want it so bad—please, i need to come inside you, i’ll be so good—”

you sit back up and ride him hard.

he nearly screams.

you grip his thighs, sink down on him over and over again, and his body arches up into you without permission. he’s trying so hard to behave, to wait, to be the good boy you trained him to be—but you’re making it impossible. and you know it.

he’s right on the edge. you can feel it in how he’s pulsing inside you, the way he’s twitching, the way every muscle in his body is begging for release. you slow it down just enough to tease, grinding deep, slow, filthy.

“you wanna fill mommy up, pups?”

“yes,” he gasps, hands shaking where they’re clenched in the sheets. “please, please, let me, i need it so fucking bad—”

“then beg.”

his mouth drops open, eyes wide. he’s already begging, you can see it in the way he looks at you, but you want the words. you want to hear it.

“use your voice.”

“please let me come,” he says instantly, breathless and broken. “please, mommy—i’ll do anything, i’ll be so good for you, i’ll clean it up after, i swear—please just let me come inside—”

you smile.

“you’re gonna come for me now, sweetie.”

and he does. instantly.

his whole body jerks beneath you, and he cries out—loud and wrecked—as he spills inside you. thick and hot and messy, cock twitching helplessly as you keep riding him through it, making him feel every second of it.

“that’s it,” you whisper, leaning over him again to press kisses to his face. “that’s my good boy.”

he’s still shaking, still gasping for air, dazed and pink and soaked in sweat.

you don’t stop.

you rock your hips, slow and deep, and he whimpers, already overstimulated, already twitching under you.

“m-mommy,” he breathes, blinking up at you with big, wet eyes. “too much—can’t—”

“yes, you can.”

he cries out again, hips bucking helplessly as you fuck him slow and heavy, drawing out every aftershock. you reach down between your bodies, rubbing your clit now, chasing your own high, using him like a toy. and he lets you. like always.

you come with a soft gasp, legs trembling around him, cunt clenching hard around his overstimulated cock. and he takes it—eyes wide, breathing ragged, watching you fall apart on top of him like it’s the only thing that matters in the world.

when you finally slow down, he’s panting.

“mommy,” he says quietly, voice raw. “i love you.”

you smile down at him, cupping his flushed face in your hand.

“i know, baby. you’re my perfect little puppy.”

he melts into it. into you.

into everything you’ve made him.

WARNINGS: SMUT. LIGHT DEGRADATION. PRAISE KINK. BEGGING. POWER PLAY. FINGERING. ORAL (F). FACE SITTING. OVERSTIMULATION. CREAMPIE. MDNI.

you knew better than to expect chris to make things easy.

he never did. not when it came to this—when it came to you. especially not when he had you spread out like this, back against the cool sheets of his bed, knees parted, and that lazy smirk crawling across his face as he knelt between your thighs. eyes dark with intent, head tilted just enough to be condescending, like he already knew what you were going to ask for before the words even dared to leave your mouth.

"what's that face for?" he murmured, thumbing over the waistband of your panties. "y'wan' somethin'?"

you were already flushed, breath catching with the tension of it all—his stare, his fingers, the way he'd been trailing his mouth along your inner thigh for minutes, teasing. he hadn't touched you where you needed it. not once. not even close.

"y'know what i want," you breathed.

chris smiled, slow and cruel and hot. "nah. i don't think i do."

he ducked his head again, kissed a spot too high on your thigh, just near the crease of your hip, letting his teeth scrape gently. his hands were firm on your thighs, thumbs digging into the soft parts, keeping you open, keeping you exposed.

you whined—soft, needy—and chris chuckled, nose brushing along the edge of your underwear.

"what was that?" he asked, voice dripping smug. "that a sound or a word, pretty girl? 'cause if y'wan' me to do somethin'..." his eyes flicked up to meet yours, dark and amused. "you're gonna have t'say please."

you swallowed, head falling back against the pillows. he'd said that before, half-joking, usually after you teased him first. but this time—this time he meant it. really meant it. he wasn't going to give in. not unless you begged.

and you knew he could wait. he could wait forever.

"chris," you breathed, hips shifting slightly, trying to press closer to him, but he didn't let you. his hands kept you still.

"that's not please," he said, sing-song. "i could do this all night, y'know. jus' sit here. maybe watch you squirm a lil' more."

he leaned down, pressed an open-mouthed kiss to your pussy over the fabric, warm breath making you twitch. but that was it. nothing more. no pressure. no tongue. just the idea of him.

"fuck, you're mean," you muttered, voice tight.

"mhm." he grinned, kissing you again, lower this time. "but y'like it. 'cause if y'really didn't, you'd tell me to stop.”

you didn't. you couldn't. because your head was spinning with how badly you needed him, how wet you already were just from the way he was looking at you—how he could ruin you without even trying.

his fingers toyed with the hem of your panties, tugging them gently, dragging them down achingly slow. he didn't even look away while he did it, gaze locked on your face, watching every reaction. every twitch, every inhale, every flicker of anticipation.

he dropped them onto the floor and groaned, real quiet. "fuck. look at that."

his thumb traced along your inner lips, feather-light, just enough to make your thighs tense. he didn't push in, didn't go where you wanted him. he was everywhere but there.

"chris, please—"

he paused.

but only for a second.

"mm, nope. not good enough."

his tone was almost playful. like he was testing you. like he wanted to see how far you'd go.

"y'gotta mean it, baby," he said softly, dragging his fingers up and spreading you a little wider. "say it like y'really fuckin' need me."

you wanted to curse at him. you wanted to slap that smug look off his face. but more than that, you wanted his mouth. his fingers. anything he'd give you.

so you gave in, just a little.

"please," you whispered, arching your hips. "please touch me, chris."

his eyes flicked down, then up again, expression shifting—darker now. hungrier.

"that's more like it."

and then, finally, finally, he leaned in.

his tongue slid between your folds, slow and heavy, licking all the way up before circling your clit with the barest touch. your back arched, a sharp breath tearing from your throat, and chris moaned softly, like he was the one getting touched.

"shit—baby, fuuckk," he breathed against you, mouth already wet and slick with you. "y'taste so fuckin' good."

he licked again, deeper this time, tongue slipping down to your entrance, teasing it, dipping in and then pulling back just to suck your clit into his mouth hard and fast, tongue flicking until your legs trembled around his head.

"keep 'em open," he warned, one hand wrapping around your thigh to hold it in place when you started to close around him. "told you, ya' not gettin' anything unless you beg for it."

"chris," you gasped, hips jerking up. "please, don't stop—please, i need more."

he groaned against your pussy, tongue fucking into you again, slower this time, but deep. the hand on your thigh moved, his middle finger circling your entrance, slick already from his mouth.

"y'that desperate for it?" he muttered, fingers teasing the edge but not pressing in yet. "need me to stretch you out, huh?"

you nodded, breathless, grabbing the sheets beside you.

"use your words."

"yes. yes, please. chris, fuck, i need your fingers—please."

he smiled against your cunt and finally gave you what you wanted.

one finger slid in first, slow and purposeful, curling up until it hit just the right spot. you cried out, clenching around him, and he moaned again, watching the way you reacted like it was his favorite show.

"tight as fuck," he muttered, pushing in a second finger. "goddamn."

you couldn't even think straight. his fingers moved expertly, scissoring just enough to make you twitch, knuckles brushing your walls with each drag. and his mouth—fuck, his mouth never stopped. tongue on your clit, sucking, licking, pressing down until your stomach clenched.

"y'close already?" he teased. "jus' from my fingers?"

you nodded again, whining, hips grinding down onto his hand.

"mm-mm," he said, pulling his mouth back slightly. "y'wanna cum, y'gotta beg again."

you almost sobbed. your body was already right there—your thighs shaking, your hands clawing at the sheets—but he was cruel. relentless.

"please," you whispered, almost crying. "please let me cum. chris, please, i'll do anything."

his eyes rolled back, breath catching.

"shit. that's what i like to hear."

he leaned in and sucked your clit hard, fingers speeding up, and that was it.

you came like a wave crashing over everything, loud and hot and pulsing around his fingers. he didn't stop. not even as you shook, not even when you whimpered his name like a prayer, overstimulated and shaking. he just kept going, licking you through it like he couldn't get enough, like he was starving for it.

"good girl," he murmured, finally pulling his mouth away. "so fuckin' pretty when y'fall apart."

you were still gasping, still twitching slightly, and before you could recover, he sat up and grabbed your hips.

"c'mere."

you blinked, dazed, barely registering as he tugged you up until you were straddling his face.

"chris—"

"sit," he growled, hands gripping your ass, forcing you to lower onto him. "m'not done with you yet."

your knees shook, thighs already sore, but you obeyed, slowly sinking down until your cunt was against his mouth again.

he groaned like it was heaven.

he started eating you out like he hadn't just made you cum thirty seconds ago. messy. loud. tongue fucking into you while his nose bumped your clit with every movement.

you tried to lift yourself, overwhelmed, but his grip on your thighs was firm.

"uh-uh," he said, mouth full. "stay. sit on my face like the good fuckin' girl you are."

you moaned, fingers tangling in his hair as he dragged another orgasm out of you, rough and fast. you couldn't even process the pleasure—just shaking, crying out, grinding down against his tongue because you couldn't stop yourself.

when he finally pulled back, lips slick, chin wet, he looked ruined. in the best way.

"mhm. look at you," he panted, staring up at you like he was addicted. "drippin' all over me. fuck."

you barely had the strength to move, but chris wasn't done yet.

he flipped you back onto the bed and kissed you hard—hot, possessive, tongue sliding into your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself.

"need t'fuck you," he said into your mouth, hands already unzipping his jeans. "gonna stretch you out so good, baby."

"please," you whimpered, already aching. "need it. need you."

he growled, guiding himself to your entrance and pushing in slow.

"fuck—so wet. all from beggin' f'me, huh?"

you gasped, arching into him, legs wrapping around his waist.

he started fucking you hard—deep, sharp thrusts that made your eyes roll back. his hand slid under your thigh, lifting it higher to get deeper, and you cried out, clutching at his arms.

"chris—fuck—so good—"

"yeah?" he gritted, fucking you harder. "say it again."

"so good," you sobbed. "feels so good, chris—please, don't stop."

he didn't. he just pounded into you, pushing you right to the edge again, murmuring filth into your ear.

"look at you. all dumb for my dick. think ya' earned it now, beggin' so pretty f'me?"

you nodded, body breaking open under him.

"cum f'me," he said, voice ragged. "wan' feel you squeeze me again."

you shattered around him, loud and raw and messy. and chris followed with a deep groan, burying himself inside you as he came, holding you close like he never wanted to let go.

and when it was done—when you were both breathless and wrecked—he kissed your shoulder, smug smile creeping back onto his lips.

"see?" he whispered, brushing his nose against your neck. "all y'had to do was say please."

author's note. love love love this.

taglist. @sugarraez @eyesonmattyb ꒱ ₊˚⊹ .ᐟ

⟢ matt knows you’re super needy, he just doesn’t want to give it to you ⸝⸝

“you’re such a needy girl,” matt whispers, referring to the way your hands are exploring underneath his shirt, “what’s got you wound up so tight, hm?”

the beard. you were pleased to see that he hadn’t shaved it when stopped by the barber earlier today, instead, coming home with it neatly lined up and trimmed, kept at the perfect length. the new style had him looking grown, just the way you liked it.

just the sound of his gruff voice had curling around your skin had you burning, body aching for his touch. your desire is so apparent that calling it out seems like overkill, but matt doesn’t give himself to you, no—he likes to watch you want.

you press a kiss to the column of his throat. “not yet,” matt warns, voice low and smooth, like velvet over a blade. his fingers brushing where you want him most, making your breath hitch, but then he’s gone again.

you’re pulsing with need, legs closing together without thinking. matt smiles when your dainty hands ball up around his button up, brows knitting slightly as you tried to pull him closer. “matty… come on,” you plead, snapping a bit, “just touch me.”

his tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth, a slight shake of his head. “you watch that attitude,” his voice hardly raises, but you can still catch the sternness of it.

finally, his hands find your waist, roaming freely above your clothes. they explore every curve, like he’s trying to memorize the backroads. one hand trails up, cupping your breast with a practiced ease, while the other dips. his fingers slide beneath your waistband, but they don’t dare go lower. “say it.”

“matt,” you groan, writhing against him in hopes that it’ll shimmy his hand down, “please.”

“not good enough.” he leans in head tilting to litter your neck with gentle, opened mouth kisses that leave a trail of goosebumps in their wake. his hand presses into your tummy, just enough to make your hips twitch.

“baby, please — need you inside me.”

there it is. that break in your voice, the surrender he was waiting for. his eyes are dark now, shoving his hand straight into your pajama shorts to pull aside your panties. the only warning he gives you when he shoves his long digits into your already sopping cunt is a brow raise, already knowing you would take anything you could get by the way you panted.

and you cry out; not from pain, but from sheer relief. the rhythm he sets has you reeling. “you got it,” he assures you, “be good and you might get my dick, too.”

content: suggestive teasing, sexual tension, fem!reader, established relationship, reader down bad, matt being too smug for his own good

1. in the passenger seat, with the sun hitting just right

The beard came in kind of suddenly. One week it was patchy and a little boyish, and the next, it was like he grew up overnight.

You’re sitting in his car—his very clean car, and the sun is hitting his face in the exact way that should be illegal. The way it makes his beard look golden at the tips, like it’s kissed by light and divinely sculpted, has your thighs squeezing so tight, you start seeing stars.

Matt’s got one hand on the wheel and the other resting on your thigh, like he knows. He probably does. He always does.

“You good?” he asks, smirking, glancing over like he knows exactly what you’re thinking.

You just hum and cross your legs. He raises an eyebrow and taps your thigh.

“Squeezing ‘em again?” he asks, voice low.

You nearly open the door and roll out onto the freeway.

2. while he’s brushing his teeth, shirtless, beard messy

It’s not like it should be hot. But it is. You’re in the bathroom doorway, pretending to look for your moisturizer, while Matt’s shirtless and brushing his teeth. His beard is puffed out a little, damp from the shower, and you can see where the water’s caught on the tips.

He catches you in the mirror. Grins, foamy toothpaste and all.

“You’re staring.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

He leans forward, spits, rinses, wipes his mouth with a towel—and then turns, face close to yours.

“You keep looking at my face like you wanna climb it,” he says, smiling like the smug little menace he is.

You shove his shoulder. “It’s the beard, okay?!”

He just laughs, pulling you closer. “You’re so down bad, babe.”

You don’t even deny it.

3. during movie night, when he lets you sit on his lap

You’re supposed to be watching the movie. Popcorn bowl in one hand, remote in the other, Matt warm and solid behind you. His arms are around you lazily, one hand on your waist, the other draped across your stomach like it lives there.

But you’re not watching the movie.

You’re watching the way his beard brushes your shoulder every time he leans in to whisper something. You’re thinking about how scratchy it must feel against skin. Certain skin.

He shifts. You grind back just a little. Barely.

His breath catches. Then his mouth finds your neck.

“You’re doing it again,” he murmurs, voice low. “Getting worked up over some hair on my face.”

You tilt your head and press back more deliberately. “It’s not some hair. It’s your hair.”

He groans and throws the remote somewhere into the void.

Movie night’s officially canceled.

4. at a family dinner, when you’re not allowed to act on it

You’re trying so hard to behave. His mom is telling a story. Nick’s already suspicious of how close your knees are under the table. You’re sipping your wine politely and nodding like a good girl.

But Matt looks so fucking good. His shirt’s a little tight across his chest, his beard trimmed and clean, lips pink and smirky every time he glances at you.

And you just. Keep. Pressing. Your thighs. Together.

He catches on around the appetizers. Leans over and whispers something obscene about your legs under the table.

You choke on your drink.

And later, as you’re saying goodbye, he leans in with that smirk and a kiss to your cheek that’s way too close to your ear.

“You better be ready when we get home,” he murmurs. “You’ve been squirming since the salad.”

You absolutely are.

+1. when you finally confess

You’re lying in bed, legs tangled, his fingers tracing lazy circles over your hips. He’s freshly showered and the beard is soft, a little wet, and definitely pressed against your neck.

“You know,” you murmur, “I think I have a beard kink.”

He snorts, nose nuzzling into your skin.

“Think?”

You grin. “Fine. I do.”

Matt leans up on one elbow and looks down at you. “You’re lucky I keep it just for you.”

And then he kisses you with a smirk, beard and all, and you melt right into it.

⇢ 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍’ 𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐇 𝐒𝐇𝐔𝐓

you cheat on your bf with chris — i do not condone cheating!! ⚸ audio

you told yourself you were done.

done with the late night texts, the secrets, the guilt curling hot and heavy in your stomach every time your boyfriend’s name lit up your phone while your panties were stuffed in chris’s pocket. you said you were over it— over him — and you meant it, right up until tonight. right up until your voice found the comfort of his name again, your feet took you straight to his door, and your conscience, as always, got left behind in the hallway.

you knock once, your heart in your throat. he opens the door like he already knew you’d be there.

bare chest, sweats hanging low on his hips, sleepy grin twisting into something smug the second his eyes land on you. he doesn’t say anything at first, just leans against the frame, looking at you like a problem he loves having.

“couldn’t stay away, hm?” he finally mutters, voice low, a little rough, like he was half asleep before you got here. “was wonderin’ how long it’d take.”

you shift on your feet. “i didn’t mean to… i just…”

he tilts his head. “just what?”

you swallow hard. “just missed you.”

his eyes drop to the dress you’re wearing. short, tight, no bra, just enough to make his jaw set and his crotch twitch. he hums under his breath, tongue swiping the inside of his cheek.

“so much for feelin’ guilty,” he says, stepping back to let you in.

you hesitate. not because you’re unsure, but because it still feels like a sin to want him this bad. especially when someone else’s name is still saved next to yours in your phone.

but that doesn’t stop you. it never does. you step inside.

the door shuts behind you with a quiet click that sounds too final, like the lock slipping into place means something more than it should. he doesn’t give you a second to catch your breath.

his hands are on you instantly— one at your hip, the other sliding up your bare arm, over your collarbone, curling around your throat with just enough pressure to make your head tip back.

“you miss me that bad, baby?” he murmurs, lips brushing your ear as he pulls you closer. “couldn’t go a full week without gettin’ stuffed full of my cock?”

“no,” you breathe, voice barely there. “need you.”

his fingers tighten.

“or did he not fuck you right again?” chris continues, like he’s trying to make you admit it. “poor baby. always runnin’ back to me for the real shit.”

“he doesn’t— he never—” you blink hard, dazed already. “he doesn’t fuck me like you do.”

he watches you squirm.

“god, you’re so fuckin’ easy for me,” he whispers. “come here in the middle of the night like a little whore with no self control. dress short, mouth shut. what were you expecting, hmm? you think i’m just gonna be nice to you now?”

he laughs, soft but mean, and you swear you feel it down your spine. “turn around.”

your body follows before your brain catches up. palms against the nearest wall, chest heaving, dress hiked up over your ass in one slow push of his hand. he steps in behind you, cock already hard through his sweats, rubbing against the thin lace of your panties with a lazy pressure that makes your knees buckle.

“fuck,” he groans. “already soaked. fuckin’ knew you missed me.”

“’s all for you, chris,” you whimper. “only for you.”

his hand slides down between your thighs, fingers dragging through your folds like he’s savoring it. the groan he lets out is filthy, possessive. he doesn’t bother pulling your panties off, just yanks them to the side and dips two fingers in your cunt like he owns it.

you gasp, hips jerking. “fuck— chris—”

“take it, baby,” he mutters, pressing his fingers deeper before pulling them out, letting them trail up your stomach, over your lips. “open.”

you part your lips for him, already gone. he pushes them in and you moan around them, tasting yourself, wet and messy.

“so sweet when you’re quiet like this,” he murmurs. “when you shut the fuck up and let me do what i want.”

you feel the heat of his cock nudging at your entrance, heavy, hard, unrelenting. he pushes in slow until he’s bottomed out, your walls clenching around him, already too tight, too full.

“jesus christ,” he hisses, one hand braced on your hip, the other sliding up to wrap around your throat again. “this pussy doesn’t feel guilty at all.”

his thrusts start slow, deep, controlled. you feel every inch of him stretch you open, feel him drag against spots that make you dizzy. he fucks like he’s trying to remind you of who you belong to.

“he doesn’t fuck you like this,” he mutters, speeding up, the slap of skin echoing through the room. “he doesn’t even know what you sound like when you’re getting ruined.”

you whimper, “i fuckin’ hate him.”

“nah, you just love me more.”

your hand claws at the wall. your legs shake. he presses his chest to your back, voice in your ear, filthy and low.

“gonna fill you up,” he growls. “gonna make you go home dripping my cum all over his fuckin’ sheets. maybe he’ll kiss you after. taste what you did. you like that?”

“yes,” you cry. “fuck, chris, yes.”

he laughs, breathless, cock throbbing inside you.

“fuckin’ slut,” he mutters. “say it. say you like it.”

“i like it,” you gasp. “i like cheating on him. i like it when it’s you.”

“that’s my girl.”

he grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls you back against him as he starts to fuck you harder, rougher. your moans turn to choked sobs, every thrust deep enough to knock the air out of your lungs.

“i own this pussy, understand? ’s all mine,” he hisses, fists tightening around your hair.

“yes, fuck, it’s all yours — i’m all yours—” you choke out.

“good fuckin’ girl.”

your eyes roll back. it’s too much. it’s perfect.

“you hear that?” he pants, one hand pressing over your mouth, the other sliding down to rub fast circles over your clit. “that’s the sound of your pussy takin’ my cock. that’s the sound he never gets to hear.”

suddenly, your body snaps, pleasure ripping through you like fire. you cum hard, walls fluttering around him, clenching down like you’re trying to keep him inside. chris groans, low and wrecked, and then he’s cumming too, hot, thick, deep, spilling into you with one last thrust that makes your whole body go limp.

he stays inside you. breathing heavy. chest to your back, hand still around your throat.

and then he says it, so quiet it barely registers.

“you’re never gonna stop comin’ back.”

you don’t say anything. you know he’s right.

a/n: thank you anon for the request! two fics in one day hellooo 😛 also ion fully fw the audio but it’s alr

find my masterlist here

🏷: @thicknick19 @sturnslutz @viviansturns @cayleeuhithinknott @briizysturn @devotedlyteenagemusic @drewswife @sturnsblogs @auttysturnz @mattspillowprincess @adoremattsturns @dolliraez @sturniolo1trips @sturns-mermaid @sophsturns @444sturns @adorechris @rriverscuomo @megameatymatt @izzylovesmatt @y2kstarr @owensbabygirl @courta13 @ribbonlovergirl @passionfruitchris @sophand4n4 @slvtf0rchr1s @matts-wife @slutformatt17 @mattsplaything @slut4chrisloads @ariheartsmatt @surprisecurlyfriess @drewswife @chrismoans

— 𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐅 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐔𝐌𝐁

“o— oh my— fuck!” you squealed as he pounded into you at a ruthless pace. he gave a squeeze to your hips as if he wasn’t gripping them hard enough “my god baby.. we gotta work on that language of yours, yeah? such a dirty mouth”

your hands reached for anything — anything that could keep you in place while he fucked your brains out. you didn’t know how he kept his composure — how he acted so sweet and soft while this was nothing but that.

“y-yes! ‘m sorry” he couldn’t hold back that sickening smirk, he could tell by the noises you made that you were so close to losing yourself, so close to breaking and letting go.

“my sweet, sweet, little girl.. so pretty” you felt everything as his fucked you with his thick cock, you were aware of what was happening and how good you felt, but you had no idea what was going on around you, and quite frankly, you didn’t care, you just knew you never wanted him to stop.

“you’re taking daddy’s cock so good today princess, not tryna run away or anything, just taking it all like a good girl” you opened your mouth to speak, but strings of moans flew out instead “i know.. so stuffed that you can’t even talk anymore.. poor thing”

you could feel matt’s veins pumping against your walls, his girth filling you up entirely. his swollen tip bruised your cervix restlessly as you gripped on the sheets, squeezing your eyes shut. 

matt was delighted by the sight underneath him. your legs spread apart, knees resting on his hips. you fitted just like a puzzle — perfectly. the sound of skin slapping along with your high-pitched moans took over the room, your head jaw falling slack once matt brought his thumb to your clit. “fuck!” you managed to cuss out, receiving a smirk in response.

“yeah baby? d’ya like when daddy fucks you like this?” he asked, already aware of the answer. you nodded desperately as he continued dragging his cock in and out of you.

a frustrated whine came with a pout as matt removed his finger from your hardened bud, his digits tracing patterns across your tummy and outlining the shape of his own cock. “look at this, darling” you didn’t want to — you could snap at any second, and matt got so mad when you came without permission. 

noticing you wouldn’t give in, matt pressed his palm against you. you had to open your eyes. his cock was all the way inside and both of you could feel it. 

your eyes fluttered open, but you didn’t immediately look down, you stared into his eyes, the look you gave him was practically begging him to let you not look down, but he wasn’t having any of it.

his thrusts became rougher, your moans somehow becoming louder “p-please” you managed to stutter out. he tilts his head to the side, his eye contact was driving you insane, it was intense. “go on princess, look at it”

your eyes flickered down, and god, your breath quickened, pleasure building up faster. a large bulge in your tummy — a large bulge created by his huge cock. you watched as it appeared and went away as he fucked your tiny hole.

you threw your head back, back arching. “i didn’t say look away baby? keep your eyes right here until i say otherwise, alright?” he pressed down on your tummy.

you had to listen to everything he said. you couldn’t deny him, you wanted to please him so badly, and you were already afraid you disappointed him when you didn’t want to look the first time.

 “there you go” matt praised, his grip growing tighter as he got closer to reaching his high. “taking daddy’s cock so— so well princess” he groaned, throwing his head back. you wrapped him perfectly — so wet, so warm. “want ya to cum around my cock, baby” matt said, almost giving you permission. of course you would have to ask, but the fact that he was almost there with you was more than enough for your pussy to throb, your gummy walls pulsating against his girth as your thighs clenched together, trying to delay your inevitable orgasm.  

“nuh uh princess, keep these pretty things open” he used his large hands to force them back open “bet you wanna cum so bad hm?” you moaned as you nod, the knot built up in your tummy quicker than you wanted it to, you were trying so hard to hold back — you wanted to hold back for him. 

you wanted to be his good little girl, you wanted to be his obedient baby, you wanted to be everything for him.

“you can— fuck… you can hold out a little longer, right baby?” your breath came in as short gasps “c.. can’t” you whined. “yes you can, just another minute...” your chest heaved as you orgasm approached.

“daddy! i-i can’t!” your moans became louder, closer together, shorter. you bucked your hips at the overwhelming pleasure. you clenched around him hard, pure bliss washing over you.

“oh baby.. you know daddy doesn’t like when you disobey” he puts his arms on either sides of your head, making your bodies touch. you couldn’t think of what to say, he’s fucked you brainless. as quick as your orgasm hit, so did the overstimulation. he never stopped ramming his thick cock inside of you, he kept his pace, and it was just as rough.

matt locked his jaw, mindlessly pounding into you — it didn’t take long until his orgasm washed over him, the almost nasty, squelching sound of both of your releases being mixed. he came in long, thick spurts, paint your walls white. “fuck princess.. helped daddy make a little mess, didn’t you?” you just stared up at him for a second before nodding “yeah... yeah you did…”

“just got one thing to say baby… don’t cum without my permission ever again, alright?” his body collapsed over yours, both of your chests glueing against each other. he turns his head to you, placing a kiss on your forehead “my good fucking girl”.

dilf!matt originally created by @luvs4matt. i got her consent and authorization to write for him and we decided to do a much needed collab! we have a few other things planned… but that’s a secret!

told yall we had a big surprise! i know i haven’t been active here but i promise — one more week and i’m all yours again! thank you for being so understanding and loving. this collab is part of my (and hers!) one year special 🤍

⇢ 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐀 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋

⚸ audio 1 — ⚸ audio 2

you set the table even though you already know he's not coming.

your hands move on autopilot — laying out the cutlery, fixing the napkins, adjusting the plates that will go untouched. you don't need the silence or the lack of texts to know what tonight is. this isn't the first time he's left you hanging.

still, you pour the wine. still, you fix your hair. still, you light the candles like an idiot trying to romanticize her own abandonment.

the food goes cold. your thighs stick to the chair. the cheap red turns warm and bitter on your tongue as the minutes stretch out, each one wrapping tighter around your chest.

he’s not late. he’s just not coming.

you try to swallow the lump forming in your throat, but your phone stays still on the table, the screen black and quiet. you don’t even know why you still hope. it’s stupid, and you know it’s stupid, and yet here you are.

the knock on the door startles you so hard you almost drop your glass. you scramble up, breath catching in your chest. some desperate, naive part of you lights up. maybe he —

no. it’s chris.

you freeze in the doorway, blinking at him. he’s in a hoodie, holding something in his hand. he lifts a brow when he sees you in the dress, makeup done, table set like a pathetic little fantasy.

his voice is dry. “the fuck?”

you fold your arms over your chest. “what are you doing here?”

he steps inside without asking. “he left his shit at mine. figured he might want it.” his eyes flick around the room. “guess not.”

“he’s just… late,” you lie, though it comes out softer than you intend. you can’t even look at him when you say it.

chris scoffs under his breath. “sure.”

he glances at the candles. the pasta. the full glass across from yours. he doesn’t say anything for a beat, just walks over and picks up the wine bottle to check the label like he’s buying time.

then, without looking up: “you gonna keep pretending he gives a fuck?”

your stomach twists. “can you not?”

“no,” he snaps. “not when you do this shit. you make a whole fucking dinner, dress up like this, and for what? so he can flake again and you can pretend it’s your fault?”

“i didn’t ask for a lecture,” you say tightly.

he moves closer. you stiffen as his gaze settles on you, eyes scanning your face with something you can’t read. part frustration, part hunger.

“he doesn’t touch you anymore, does he?”

your breath catches.

“doesn’t call you first. doesn’t notice when you cry yourself to sleep. he just leaves you here like this.”

his hand lifts. fingers trace your jaw, your throat, the bare curve of your shoulder. slow. like he’s daring you to stop him.

“you don’t know what we’re like when we’re alone,” you try, but it’s breathy, weak, almost a whisper.

he steps closer. you can feel his body heat now. smell his cologne and the faint trace of smoke clinging to his clothes.

“you’re right,” he murmurs, thumb grazing your collarbone. “i don’t know what it’s like when you’re alone with him. but i know what you sound like when you’re alone and hurting.”

you swallow hard. your body leans before your brain catches up.

“you need someone who actually sees you,” he says softly. “someone who hears it when you say you’re fine but don’t mean it. someone who touches you like they fucking mean it.”

your knees almost buckle. you brace a hand against the table to keep yourself upright. he leans in, mouth brushing your ear.

“you ever been kissed like you matter?”

“chris—”

“you want to be wanted, right?”

he doesn’t give you time to answer. his hand slides down your back, gripping your waist and pulling you against him in one smooth movement. his mouth hovers just above yours, and his voice dips low, thick with something darker.

“you want someone to ruin this stupid little dinner for you, baby?”

you don’t even nod, you just melt, legs parting slightly as your breath shakes.

“say it.”

you hesitate. your eyes flick to his lips. “…yes.”

his grip tightens. “say it right.”

you blink. “what?”

his hand slides lower, fingers pressing into the small of your back. you feel the heat of his breath as he whispers it against your cheek, voice laced with a sharp edge that makes your stomach twist.

“say ‘yes, sir.’”

you don’t know why that does something to you, but it does. the command lingers in the air, thick and heavy and hot.

you say it before you even think.

“…yes, sir.”

his entire body shifts. his jaw clenches, breath sharp, like you just undid something in him.

“atta fucking girl.”

in one fluid motion, he lifts you onto the table. your dress rides up as he spreads your legs, standing between them. the wine sloshes in the glasses beside you, plates clattering over, but neither of you care.

his fingers hook into your panties and slide them down your thighs slow, deliberate, eyes locked on your face like he’s memorizing every second.

“you wet f’me already?”

your lips part, but all you can do is nod.

he grins, cocky and rough. “course you are. no one’s touched you in weeks.”

you gasp when his mouth finally meets your skin. hot, open kisses against the inside of your thigh, slow and hungry and reverent. he groans against you like he’s been dying for the taste. when his tongue finds your clit, you swear you see stars.

his hands grip your hips tight, keeping you in place as he devours you — messy, deep, with a practiced rhythm that makes your head fall back. every flick of his tongue is filthier than the last. he moans into you like he’s getting off on this, and maybe he is.

you whimper, thighs twitching.

“fuck—chris—”

“you like that, don’t you?” he pants, pulling back just enough to speak, lips shiny with your slick.

“yes—yes—”

“say that again.”

you tremble. “yes, sir—please—”

he growls, mouth crashing back down on you, tongue rolling relentless pressure until your body tenses, your thighs clamp around his head, and you come hard, legs shaking, mouth falling open in a silent scream as you spill across his tongue.

he doesn’t stop. not even a little.

he laps up every drop, hands stroking your thighs like you’re delicate now, fragile from how hard you came. when he finally rises, lips slick, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and grins down at you.

you look ruined.

he looks like he just fucking won.

“look at that,” he says, breathless. “you were never hungry for dinner.”

you’re panting, wrecked, eyes glassy. his hand cradles your face, thumb brushing your bottom lip.

“good girl,” he murmurs. “next time he flakes, you know where to come.”

you nod weaky, lips parted, heartbeat pounding through your whole body.

and you already know there will be a next time.

a/n: this was inspired by that one scene from don’t worry darling... I been thinking about that shit for a whileeee. also my legs fucking hurt so bad and i’m gonna saw them off thank you goodnight

find my masterlist here

🏷: @drewswife @k4urltzx @courta13 @briizysturn @y2kstarr @chriscantwhisper @tezzzzzzzz @adorechris @dolliraez @rriverscuomo @sturnsblogs @mattspillowprincess @mattsplaything @sturns-mermaid @auttysturnz @sonnyangelsweetiee @izzylovesmatt @ribbonlovergirl @k4urltzx @matts-girlfriend @pair-of-pantaloons @444sturns @weron1ka @grrrrcherries  @matts-wife @thicknick19 @slvtf0rchr1s @devotedlyteenagemusic @adoremattsturns @slut4chrisloads @cayleeuhithinknott @lyingbymalcom @sturniolo1trips @chrissbxby @alexisa78 @ariheartsmatt @slutformatt17 @chestersturn @kenziesturniolo54 @owensbabygirl @sturniolohohoho @megameatymatt @overlygoin @httpssturns @sweeethrt @mattybsgroupie

⚸ audio

the voice note starts and it’s already heavy—wet fabric shifting, skin dragging, and matt’s breath coming in short, desperate little gasps.

"shit—fuck, fuck, baby…"

his voice is all shaky, like he didn’t mean to hit record but couldn’t stop himself. you hear the faint sound of the hoodie beneath him, soft cotton rubbing against skin as he ruts down into it—again and again—like it’s the only thing keeping him from losing his mind.

"feels s’good, i c-can’t—fuck, you left this here and i—i’m fuckin’—fuckin’ humping it like a loser…"

he lets out a moan, high and broken. his thighs slap against the bed. you can hear it—how soaked the fabric is, how wrecked his cock sounds sliding through it. he’s panting like he’s been going at it for way too long.

"smells like you. smells so fuckin’ good, i’m—i’m gonna fuckin’ cum if you keep—if you keep textin’ me like that, sendin’ those photos, you know what you’re doin’, you knew i’d lose it—"

a sharp whimper breaks out of him. you can picture it now—his face buried in your hoodie, back arched, grinding into the bundle like it’s your cunt. there’s a wet squelch as his cock presses harder into the soaked fabric, and he gasps.

"fuck—fuckfuckfuck, m’so close—feels like you, swear it does, i wanna be inside you so bad, wanna cum all over your tummy, your thighs, i’d do anything—anything for you right now, please let me—"

he’s babbling. incoherent, breathless, just gone. it’s all instinct now. his hips stutter. he whines deep in his throat, broken and needy.

"m’gonna cum, baby—m’gonna—fuck, i love you, i fuckin’ love you—"

and then he cums. hard. you can hear it—the wet drag, his breath catching, the soft curse that falls from his lips like a cry. the hoodie muffles his voice as he groans into it, hips grinding down even as he finishes, desperate for just a second longer of that feeling.

he’s quiet after. just breathing. you hear the faint squish of the fabric soaked through. his voice, low and trembling, slips out like he forgot the mic was still on:

"fuck… i need you so bad."

then the audio ends.

a/n: 😛

find my masterlist here

🏷 @owensbabygirl @sturniolohohoho @drewswife @megameatymatt @cayleeuhithinknott @courta13 @overlygoin @httpssturns @sweeethrt @ariheartsmatt @k4urltzx @briizysturn @y2kstarr @chriscantwhisper @tezzzzzzzz @adorechris @dolliraez @rriverscuomo @sturnsblogs @mattspillowprincess @mattsplaything @sturns-mermaid @auttysturnz @sonnyangelsweetiee @izzylovesmatt @ribbonlovergirl @k4urltzx @matts-girlfriend @pair-of-pantaloons @444sturns @weron1ka @grrrrcherries  @matts-wife @thicknick19 @slvtf0rchr1s @devotedlyteenagemusic @adoremattsturns @slut4chrisloads @lyingbymalcom @sturniolo1trips @chrissbxby @alexisa78

matt x bsf!reader | smut, teasing, mention of dildo, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, best friends to something more, dom!matt vibes, praise + slight corruption kink, reader is embarrassed but very into it