#daddy!matt

You don't mean to slouch. You really don't. It just... Happens. But Matt notices. Of course he does. So he does what any loving boyfriend would do. He tries to help.

"sweetheart, you're slouching"

"no I'm-... How did you know?"

"I can, uh, I can hear your breathing. It's kind of labored."

"oh... Alright, thanks." You say as you straighten up.

For a while, he'd remind you like that. Polite, soft, helpful. Then he starts to get a bit tired of it the longer it goes on. He'll just clear his throat while putting a hand on your back. From there, it turns into putting one hand on your lower back and the other on your upper chest, then pushing. It's quick, and automatically gets you to straighten up.

"quit slouching, it's not good for you."

"alright, dad."

"I mean it, kid."

After a while of that, he still catches you slouching sometimes. He'll just flick the back of your neck, and you catch the message. He's just trying to help. And to your favor, you have improved.

Just not enough.

***

He had a rough day. The client was a laidback asshole who was lying left and right, with no respect for Matt or anyone else on the legal team. It pissed him off. Rubbed him the wrong way.

As he walks home, he can't help but be annoyed still. He enters the elevator, going all the way up to his top-floor apartment. He walks in the door, only to hear you slouching. He can hear you typing something on your computer, which is usually when you slouch anyway. He lets put an exasperated sigh, tapping his cane on the floor to get your attention.

"Matty? What's wrong?"

He says nothing, taking off his coat and his jacket. He folds up his cane, tapping it again on the table as he sets it down. He makes his way over to where you sit, cool and composed with measured steps. He still doesn't say anything as he reaches over and closes your laptop.

"hey! What the he-"

Smack

"Posture." He practically growls in a low, gravelly voice. Letting out a tired huff as he tugs his tie off, he quickly undoes the knot in the silk before gagging you with it, tying a tight knot behind your head.

You were still trying to process the slap, your cheek still stung and he had caught you completely off guard. You snap out of it when Matt throws you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing, starting to carry you towards the bedroom. You start to protest, words not being an option due to the tie in your mouth.

Your next best option is physical protest, so that's what you go with. You squirm and kick and hit, which only earns you a smack on the ass so hard that you feel it even through the clothes you're wearing. You gasp out in pain and wriggle some more on his shoulder, but he can smell the truth. He can smell how wet you are, he heard your heart race.

He tosses you on the bed unceremoniously, quickly crawling over you both to avoid you getting up, and to start undressing you. You know that you could realistically give him the signal and he'd stop dead in his tracks. Just tapping that certain rhythm you agreed on. But youre in the mood to play along, so you do. You struggle against him, which is conveniently helping him undress you. Only once you're stripped bare does he get off of you, pressing a large hand to the center of your chest and holding you down.

"Stay." He commands as he rolls up the sleeves of his dress shirt, like you're some mutt he found on the side of the road.

And like a dog, you listen. But that doesn't stop you from glaring daggers at him while he rummages one of his drawers for something. You expected a lot of things, but his white Muay Thai ropes was not one of them. The blood on them was no longer the deep crimson they were on that night, implying that he'd washed them since then.

"turn."

You do.

He uses one rope to secure your arms behind your back, wrists to elbows. The other goes around your neck, then connects to your arms, arching your back slightly.

"That's good fucking posture." He growls, tugging on the ropes to jostle you into a kneeling position, facing the foot of the bed.

"do you know what you sound like when you slouch? I can hear your lungs being compressed and squeezed." He starts as he gets off the bed, the mattress silently raising. He walks around to where you're facing, popping the first two buttons of his shirt to reveal his salt and pepper chest hair. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, the other resting on his hip.

He has a 'what am I going to do with you' expression on his face as he speaks again, pacing back and forth.

"not to mention that your back pops like goddamn bubble wrap when you finally stand up. You know that's why you have back pain, right?" He says expressively as he paces, the hand that ran through his hair now waving around and making gestures like he's in court.

You let out a whine around his tie, only for him to take two steps forward to slap you across the face again and grab your jaw right after.

"don't interrupt me. I'm not done." He says dangerously.

"I tell you time and time again to sit up straight, kid. But you just don't listen to me! All I'm trying to do is help you and you just. Don't. Listen. It feels like I'm babysitting you at this point." He huffs, taking a deep breath that was supposed to calm him, but only floods his nose with your scent.

"seriously?" He scoffs, stopping in his tracks.

"are you seriously getting off on this?" He asks, almost incredulously.

You whine and squeeze your thighs together, trying to hide your scent and relieve some of the ache between your thighs.

He steps forward and wrenches your legs open, and as if the waft of your scent wasn't enough, he runs his fingers through the mess between your thighs.

"do you really expect me to touch you, kid? After that? I'll tell you what, I have had a shit day at work today. I am not in the mood for you to be brat on top of it all. If you wanted something tonight, the least you could have done was act like a human being rather than an animal."

You want to cry. You're soaking wet, drooling onto the silk sheets and not with your mouth. You can feel your heartbeat in your clit like a drum, and you know he can sense it too. He takes another deep breath, jaw tensing and brows twitching.

"you are going to stay like this for an hour. Then I'm going to untie you and we will go to bed. Nothing else will happen outside of that. And so help me god if I see you slouching again after tonight, I won't be so kind."

You couldve cum just from that.

"do you understand me? Or did you go stupid like you always do when I don't touch you?"

You frantically nod, humming an affirmation around his tie, which is now soaked in your saliva.

True to his word, he leaves you there for another hour, your back forced into a perfect posture just waiting for him while he takes a long shower to decompress from the day and even treats himself to putting on the one lotion he can actually stand on his skin.

When he returns, there's still a bit longer left, but he ignores your whimpers and whines. You tried once to grind yourself against the sheets, but that was quickly shut down by him gripping your hair and pulling your head back.

"you said you understood me. I didn't give you permission for this. Last warning."

You whimper and nod, forcing your hips to still. After your hour is up, he starts to untie you with such tenderness that it confuses you for a moment. He tosses the ropes aside, massaging your arms and checking your neck for any signs he can pick up of strain or discomfort.

"nothing hurts?" He asks softly as he removes his tie from your mouth.

"no, Matty... I'm okay..." You assure him equally as softly despite the fact that you are still more turned on than you've ever been.

He nods, pressing a kiss to your forehead. He can tell you're still so turned on, but he told you he wouldn't touch you, and always keeps his bedroom promises. So he removes the sheet that you dripped onto and he grabs a spare blanket. You both crawl into bed, and you cling to him like he wasn't berating, degrading, and slapping you just an hour earlier. Because despite it all, he wasn't wrong.

He just wanted to help your posture.