ruined—m.s.
✧ mechanic!matt, dom!matt, unprotected sex (creampie), bigdick!matt, fingering, degradation, slight semi-public sex, rough sex, praise, car sex
✧ summary: your car breaks down and you meet matt, the mechanic who’s blunt, flirty, and impossible to ignore. he gets your car running again, but the real problem is the tension between you two.
✧ word count: 3.7k
✧ authors note: bit of a lengthy one...sorry guys i got carried away while writing lol...
the first thing you noticed about matt was that he looked irritated to be alive.
grease on his hands. dark curls shoved back messily. gray tank top clinging slightly to his back from the heat inside the shop. he was halfway underneath the hood of somebody’s car when your piece of shit sedan made a horrible grinding sound pulling into the garage.
the noise echoed through the building loud enough to make one of the guys in the back physically stop what he was doing.
matt winced immediately.
“jesus christ,” he muttered under his breath, pushing himself upright.
the fluorescent lights overhead caught on the sweat along the back of his neck while he wiped a hand across his jaw, already looking annoyed before he’d even seen you.
you rolled your window down slowly. “that bad?”
he looked at your car.
then at you.
then back at your car.
“how long has it been making that sound?”
“like…” you hesitated. “a week?”
his head dropped for a second.
actually dropped.
“a week,” he repeated flatly.
“i was hoping it would go away.”
“yeah,” he said, voice dry. “because that’s usually how engines work.”
you narrowed your eyes immediately. “you always this friendly?”
that finally got something out of him besides annoyance.
a quick smirk.
small. crooked. gone almost immediately.
you got out of the car before you could stop yourself, warm late-afternoon air immediately wrapping around your skin.
somewhere deeper in the garage, music played quietly through speakers. the whole place smelled like motor oil, metal, smoke, and heat.
matt wiped his hands on the rag tucked into his back pocket while walking slowly around the front of your car.
“you got a name?” he asked casually.
you told him.
he repeated it once under his breath, slower this time, like he was testing it out.
then he nodded toward the hood.
“pop it.”
you pulled the lever from inside while he walked around front. his forearm flexed slightly when he lifted the hood open and you immediately got annoyed at yourself for noticing.
actually no.
you got annoyed at him for looking like that in a mechanic shop.
it felt unfair.
“you know absolutely nothing about cars, huh?” he asked after a minute, leaning further into the engine.
“i know the basics.”
he glanced at you over his shoulder.
“you drove this thing here sounding like a washing machine full of knives.”
“okay well when you say it like that-”
“because that’s what happened.”
you laughed despite yourself and matt looked over immediately.
like the sound surprised him.
his expression shifted for half a second before he looked back down at the engine again.
“matt,” somebody yelled from deeper in the garage.
“what.”
“where’s the socket set?”
“where you left it probably.”
“helpful.”
a second later, another guy came around the corner of the garage, wiping his hands on a stained rag.
for a genuinely confusing moment, you thought you were seeing double.
same dark curls. same blue eyes and same sharp jaw.
his eyes flicked toward you immediately.
then toward matt.
then back to you again.
a grin spread across his face so fast it was almost annoying.
“oh,” he said slowly, dragging the word out. “that’s why you’ve been ignoring everybody.”
matt finally looked up, visibly irritated now. “shut the fuck up, chris.”
chris, (his twin? triplet?) just laughed under his breath, tossing the rag over his shoulder before looking at you again.
“good luck with him,” he said. “seriously.”
“can you go away?” matt muttered.
chris held his hands up innocently. “alright, alright. jesus.” he started backing away before pointing toward the car. “try not to scare the customer off this time.”
“leave.”
“you’re no fun anymore.”
matt grabbed a rag off the counter and threw it at him without looking. chris laughed the entire way deeper into the garage, his voice fading out under the noise of clanging tools and music playing faintly somewhere in the back.
his focus dropped back to your car and he tightened something under the hood.
his rings clicked softly against metal every few seconds.
you crossed your arms loosely, leaning against the side of the car while you watched him work.
which apparently you were doing too obviously.
because after a minute he said, without looking up,
“you can sit inside if you want.”
“i’m okay.”
“unless staring at me is part of the experience.”
your face heated instantly.
“i’m not staring at you,” you said quickly. “you’re literally just fixing my car directly in front of me.”
matt hummed like he didn’t believe you for a second.
“right.”
“you’re in my line of vision.”
that finally made him look up at you.
grease streaked across his hand. curls falling into his eyes. the corner of his mouth pulled slightly like he was trying not to smile.
you had to hide your own smile.
by the time he finally shut the hood, the sun had dipped lower outside the garage doors, warm orange light spilling across the concrete floors and catching against the tattoos on his arms.
“good news,” he said, wiping his hands clean again.
“i’m scared already.”
“she lives another day.”
you exhaled dramatically. “thank god.”
his laugh was quieter this time. lower.
he stepped closer to hand you your keys and suddenly the air felt warmer than it already was.
close enough now that you could smell soap underneath the oil and metal clinging to him.
close enough to notice his eyes properly for the first time.
bluer than you expected.
your fingers brushed when you reached for the keys.
matt looked down at your hand for a second too long before looking back up at you.
“you hungry?” he asked casually.
you blinked. “what?”
he shrugged one shoulder, leaning back against the side of your car like he had all the time in the world.
“there’s a diner down the street.” his eyes stayed on yours. “unless you’re busy.”
you should’ve said no.
seriously.
normal people probably would’ve.
instead you heard yourself ask, “are you always this confident with customers?”
matt’s mouth twitched slightly.
“only the pretty ones.”
twenty minutes later you were sitting across from him in a diner booth that smelled like fries, coffee, and old vinyl seats, pretending you weren’t hyperaware of every time his knee brushed yours under the table.
rain was outside the windows now, dark clouds gathering slowly overhead while neon signs reflected against the glass.
matt had cleaned up before leaving the shop.
sort of.
the grease was gone from his hands and forearms, but there was still a faint smudge near his wrist he must’ve missed. his curls were still messy, damp slightly at the temples from washing his face too quickly.
you kept looking at him.
the waitress dropped the check off eventually, but neither of you moved right away.
outside the diner windows it had gone dark already, neon signs reflecting softly against the glass.
matt tapped his fingers once against the table before looking at you again.
“you got somewhere to be?”
you shook your head before you could think too hard about it.
“good.”
“why’s that.”
he held your gaze for a second too long.
“don’t really wanna stop talking to you yet.”
the air shifted after that.
your heartbeat picked up stupidly fast while matt leaned back slightly, blue eyes still fixed on yours like he was waiting to see what you’d do with that.
“are you this nice all the girls whose cars break down?” you asked quietly.
“your car didn’t break down, thanks to me.”
“close enough.”
he laughed softly.
“and no.” his voice dropped slightly. “just you.”
your breath caught a little at that.
matt looked unfairly good under the low diner lighting. brown curls falling into his eyes again, rings tapping lightly against the tabletop, tattoos disappearing beneath the sleeves he’d rolled back down earlier.
you wondered suddenly what his hands would feel like against your skin.
immediately hated yourself for the thought.
matt was watching you with this calm steady look that made everything feel hotter than it was.
not cocky anymore. honest. and somehow that was worse.
“you barely know me,” you said.
“wanna fix that?” he asked, his head tilting to the side and his eyes surveying your reaction to his words.
your stomach flipped hard enough to hurt.
this was becoming a problem.
the diner had mostly emptied out by now, lights dimmer than before, staff wiping down counters in the background.
somehow it felt like you and matt were sitting in your own little pocket of the world.
which was dangerous, honestly.
because every minute with him made it easier to forget you’d met him literally hours ago.
matt shifted a little closer in the booth then, arm stretching along the back of the seat behind you again. not touching you. it was almost worse that he wasn’t.
his eyes flicked over your face slowly, lingering just enough to make heat creep up your neck.
you could feel your heartbeat in your throat.
your fingers tightened slightly around your drink without realizing.
his mouth twitched barely at the corner, not enough to call a smile, just enough to tell you he saw right through you.
your eyes dropped to the table too fast, pulse fluttering stupidly hard while you pretended to care very deeply about the condensation dripping down the side of your cup.
outside, rain had started sometime while you were inside. droplets streaked against the diner windows under the neon glow outside.
matt glanced toward it briefly before looking back at you.
“you parked at the shop, right?”
“yeah.”
“i’ll drive you back.”
“i can get an uber or something, you don’t have to.”
“i know.” his eyes dropped briefly to your mouth before lifting again. “i still wanna.”
the drive back felt warmer than it should’ve.
music low. some old rock song.
rain tapping against the windshield.
matt driving one handed while the other rested near the gearshift, fingers flexing every so often like he wanted to do something with them but he was stopping himself.
you caught him looking at you at a red light once.
not subtle at all.
“what,” you asked quietly.
“nothing.”
“liar.”
he smiled a little without looking away.
then the light turned green and he finally looked back at the road.
when you got back to the shop, the garage was dark now except for one overhead light near the back. rain fell harder outside, loud against the metal roof.
matt killed the engine but neither of you moved immediately.
your heartbeat was ridiculous at this point.
he turned slightly in his seat to look at you fully.
close in the dark.
too close.
“this usually happen to you?” he asked softly.
“what.”
“meeting somebody and wanting them this fast.”
your breath caught hard.
matt’s eyes flicked down to your mouth again.
slowly.
“because it doesn’t happen to me,” he admitted. “not like this.”
the air in the car felt thick, charged.
matt's words hung between you, and you couldn't look away from him even if you'd wanted to.
he shook his head slowly, his gaze dropping to your mouth again, lingering there like he was imagining exactly what he wanted to do to you.
"you make me-" he stopped, jaw tightening slightly like he was frustrated with himself. "fuck. you make me want to ruin my own rules."
"what rules?"
"the ones about keeping my hands off customers."
your breath shuddered out of you. "i'm not a customer anymore. you fixed my car."
matt's eyes darkened, a slow, dangerous smile pulling at his mouth. "yeah?"
"yeah."
"so if i kissed you right now," he said, leaning closer, close enough that you could feel the warmth of him, "that wouldn't be unprofessional?"
"pretty sure we're past professional, matt."
he moved.
his hand came up to cup your jaw, thumb brushing over your cheekbone with a gentleness that contradicted the hunger in his eyes, and then his mouth was on yours.
matt's tongue slid against yours with a confidence that made your head spin. his fingers threaded into your hair, tilting your head back against the headrest, taking exactly what he wanted.
you made a sound against his mouth, small and broken, and matt swallowed it greedily, his other hand finding your waist and gripping hard enough to bruise.
"get in the back," he murmured against your lips, the words rough and commanding.
"what?"
"backseat." his teeth grazed your lower lip, a sharp little bite that made you gasp. "now. before i fuck you right here where anybody could walk by and see what a mess you're already making."
your face burned but you were moving, crawling clumsily between the seats into the back, heart hammering so hard you could feel it in your throat.
matt followed, his larger frame folding into the space behind you, and then he was reaching for you, pulling you into his lap, his hands rough and sure as they pushed up under your shirt.
"look at you," he breathed, his mouth finding your neck, sucking dark marks into your skin as his palms slid up to cup your breasts. "already falling apart and i've barely touched you."
you whimpered, your hips moving involuntarily against his, seeking friction.
he laughed darkly, his thumbs brushing over your nipples through your bra, making you arch into him.
his mouth was everywhere, your jaw, your throat, the spot behind your ear, and his hands were on your body like he was memorizing every curve, every sensitive spot that made you moan.
you could feel him hard and thick against you, and the confirmation that he was that affected, that desperate for you, sent chill up your spine.
"matt," you gasped when his fingers found the button of your jeans, flicking it open with practiced ease. "wait-"
"no," he said simply, his hand sliding down into your panties without hesitation, his middle finger sliding through your folds to find you embarrassingly wet.
"you've been looking at me all fucking day like you wanted this. like you wanted me to bend you over that goddamn car and fuck you until you couldn't remember your own name."
your head fell back against his shoulder as his finger circled your clit, the pressure perfect, relentless.
"so don't tell me to wait," he continued, his mouth against your ear, his voice a low, filthy rumble that vibrated through your chest. "not when you're this wet for me."
"oh god-"
"that's it," he praised when you ground down against his hand, seeking more. "that's my girl. desperate and pretty, just like i knew you'd be."
he added a second finger, working you open with rough, deliberate strokes that had you rocking against his palm, chasing the friction.
the rain was loud against the windows, the car slightly humid from your breath and body heat, and you felt completely surrounded by him, by the punishing rhythm of his fingers inside you.
"you gonna come like this?" he asked, his free hand gripping your hip, holding you still so he could control exactly how you took it. "gonna make a mess of my hand before i even get my cock inside you?"
"i-" your voice broke as he pressed his thumb hard against your clit, rubbing tight circles that made your thighs shake. "fuck, matt, please-"
"please what?"
"please-"
he bit down on your shoulder, hard, and you came apart with a cry that he had to muffle with his free hand over your mouth, his fingers never stopping their punishing pace, drawing out every shuddering wave until you were whimpering, oversensitive, boneless against him.
"good girl," he murmured against your sweat-dampened neck, his hand finally stilling, his fingers still buried inside you. "look at you. absolutely ruined and i haven't even fucked you yet."
you whined around his fingers, and he laughed softly.
"want you inside me," you breathed, your face burning. "want you to fuck me. please. right here."
"look at you," he said softly, his gaze dragging down your body, his hands gripping your thighs and spreading you wider over him. "so fucking pretty. so wet. you need this bad, don't you? need me to fill you up?"
"yes," you sobbed, reaching for his belt, your fingers clumsy with urgency. "yes, please, matt-"
he helped you, his own hands steady as he freed himself from his jeans, his cock heavy and hard against his stomach, the tip flushed and leaking.
you wrapped your hand around him without thinking, marveling at the heat of him, the thickness that made your stomach flip with anticipation.
"that's it," he breathed, his hips bucking into your touch. "touch me. get me ready to fuck you stupid in this backseat."
"gonna steam up the windows," you managed, your voice cracking as he throbbed in your palm.
"good," he growled, his hand wrapping around yours, guiding his cock to your entrance, the head sliding through your folds, spreading your wetness. "let them. let everybody fucking know what we're doing in here. let them know how desperate you are."
he pushed up as you sank down, your joint moans filling the small space, the stretch burning so perfectly that your vision blurred.
he was so deep like this, your knees pressed against the worn leather on either side of his hips, his hands gripping your waist that held you still while you adjusted.
"shit," he groaned, his forehead dropping against your collarbone, his breath hot and ragged. "shit, you feel- you're so fucking tight. so perfect."
"matt," you whimpered, rocking experimentally, the shifting sensation making both of you gasp. "too big-"
"you can take it," he grunted, his grip tightening, holding you in place when you tried to lift up.
he started moving then, his hips snapping up with a force that bounced you on his lap, your head knocking back against the headrest with a soft thud.
the car was definitely rocking, you realized, creaking with every thrust.
"they could see us," he said, his voice strained, thrusting up into you with a relentless rhythm.
"could walk right past and see what a mess you are. see how you're taking my cock desperately."
"oh god," you sobbed, your nails digging into his shoulders, your body jolting with every impact. "matt-"
he continued, his mouth finding your throat, sucking dark bruises into your skin. "so fucking hungry for it. look at you. can't even keep quiet, can you?"
he was right. you were being loud, your moans filling the small space, echoing against the windows that were definitely starting to fog up.
"such a good girl," he praised when you clenched around him, your body responding to his words.
"taking it so well. so deep. feel how you're stretched around me? feel how you're making a mess of me?"
"yes," you gasped, your hips moving now, meeting his thrusts, chasing the friction.
he shifted his grip, his fingers digging in hard, pulling you down onto him harder, faster. his other hand found your jaw, tilting your face up to look at him, his eyes dark and blown out, his curls falling into his face with sweat.
"wanna see your face when you come on my cock like a good little girl. wanna see exactly how stupid i fuck you."
the words alone were almost enough. you were so close, your whole body trembling.
"matt," you choked out, your eyes rolling back slightly before forcing them open, meeting his gaze. "matt, i'm gonna-i'm close-"
"yeah?" he grunted, his hips snapping up with new urgency, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the car, mixing with the rain.
"gonna come for me? gonna make a mess of yourself in my backseat? go ahead. do it. come on my cock, sweetheart. show me how good i fucked you."
his hand slid between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit, pressing down hard, rubbing tight, desperate circles that pushed you over the edge.
you came with a cry that he had to muffle with his mouth, his tongue sweeping in to swallow the sound.
"shit," he gasped against your mouth, his voice high pitched and soft, his hips stuttering. "shit, you're-i'm gonna-"
"come inside me," you begged, your voice wrecked, your hands gripping his face, forcing him to look at you. "please, matt, want to feel it, want-"
he buried his face in your neck with a guttural sound, his hips snapping forward one final time,
his cock pulsing as he spilled into you, hot and thick. he kept moving, slow, shallow thrusts, his breath ragged and warm against your skin.
for a long moment you stayed like that, breathing hard, his weight pressing you back against the seat, his cock still inside you.
the car smelled like sweat and sex and motor oil, and you felt completely, perfectly wrecked.
"you okay?" he murmured eventually, his voice muffled against your neck, his thumb stroking gently over your hip where he'd gripped too hard.
you hummed, too fucked out to form words.
he laughed softly, the sound warm and pleased, and pressed a kiss to your temple. "yeah," he said quietly. "me too."
when he finally pulled out, you winced slightly at the loss, and he immediately looked concerned, his hands gentle as he helped you shift off his lap, arranging your trembling limbs on the seat beside him.
"sore?"
"a little," you admitted, your voice hoarse. "good sore."
he smiled, helping you dress with a tenderness that felt at opposite with how roughly he'd just fucked you.
he cleaned himself up with a rag from the glove compartment, probably the same one from his back pocket earlier, you realized with a blush, and fixed his jeans before pulling you back against his side.
"stay," he said softly, his arm wrapping around your shoulders, his fingers tracing patterns on your bare thigh. "just… stay here with me for a while."
outside, the rain continued to fall, and the windows were completely fogged over now.
you leaned into him, your head on his shoulder.
"we can't stay in this car forever," you murmured.
"why not?" he kissed your forehead, his voice drowsy and satisfied. "got everything i need right here."
you smiled against his neck.
"you're ridiculous."
you decided that maybe, just maybe, breaking down at this particular garage was the best thing that had ever happened to you.
