#needy!reader

this past week, you have been studying your ass off for finals, you were zoned in on your studies, and sammie helped you study for your chem final, quizzing you on vocab and practice questions. today was the day you took it, and you were confident; you studied everything you possibly could from the semester.

the classroom was crowded. the air heavy with suspense and the scent of number 2 pencils. you took a moment for yourself a steady breath to ground yourself. you remember all of sammie's practice questions all the reviews you did and the all-nighters you pulled. you moved through the final with confidence, you were focused as you had a pen and pencil, the scratching of the pen was the finality of your exam.

once you left there was a weight that was lifted off. the drive home was a relief. your mind finally able to take a break.

as you entered back into your shared apartment with sammie, you didn't hear much of anything, just the door you opened creaked. the apartment always had a soft glow to it, a peaceful and warm feel.

sammie doesn't hear you, how could he hear you when he has his headset on, door closed and talking to his friends. you sigh taking your shoes off and placing your purse on the holder.

you made your way upstairs into your shared room and as you entered the room you saw him, on the edge of the bed, his elbows leaning on his knees, he's hunched over a bit. wearing a black t-shirt and some plaid red and black pants, he looked comfortable, you thought. his headphones are on, just the one on the right pushed past his ear so he can hear what's going on around him.

you never got tired of looking at him, not really, he looked concentrated, his head turned to you as he heard the bedroom door open.

he looked at you briefly giving a light smile.

"hey baby, how was the final? he asked in a low smooth voice.

you give a light smile as you reply "I'm confident, baby, i believe i did good, all that shit you questioned me on was on the final.

he is nodding, but he isn't really listening. You can tell because you see and hear the PS5 controller clicking rapidly.

his head turns back to the game just as fast, talking in the mic "damn nigga, relax, I'm playing, don't worry about me, what you need to do is loot up, i got my shit."

a soft smile tugging at your lips as you headed toward the dresser, as you gather some comfy clothes, you leaned over to Sammie, pressing a sweet kiss on his cheek. he looked up as his eyes were bright and he caught your hand, gently pulling you closer, you knew what he wanted; he wanted a real kiss, and that is what you'd give him.

and just for a moment, the game was forgotten when your lips danced, until you heard his friend through the headset.

"nigga, i don't wanna hear all that mackin in my ear!" his friend yelled on the mic.

you rolled your eyes playfully and chuckling lightly, sammie grinned a bit shy, you leave him to play his match, making sure you had your clothes out before you headed to the bathroom.

as you head to the bathroom, turning the warm water on, the steam began to fill the room, fogging up the mirrors, giving it that sauna feel you loved. stepping into the shower felt like your own therapeutic time, the shower felt as if it was washing away all the stress of the exams that are now finally over, the late-night study session and all the tension that has been building up during this finals week, finally being released.

you started with your unscented soap, followed by your favorite body wash. any self care process was a time you cherished, the tension gradually leaving your body as the water ran down it.

once you were done, feeling all fresh and clean, you stepped out and patted yourself dry. back in the bedroom, Sammie is screaming at his friends. as you enter the bedroom the cool air hits your skin and you grab your lotion and light perfume and begin to moisturize.

after spraying your perfume you got into your nice, soft lounge clothes.

feeling all fresh and clean, you climbed onto the bed, crawling behind Sammie and draping your arms around his chest, leaning your chin on his shoulder. you can feel him smile, he tilted his head and pressing a sweet kiss on your arm.

you whisper into his ear, the ear that has the headset pushed to the side, that isn't covered by his headset.

"baby, how long you been on the game for?"

you watch his fingers moves on the controller, as he talks "uhhh, not long baby just a couple hours"

you nod as you hear his response, his focus remained locked on the screen, you leaned in and press a loving kiss on his neck, lightly whispering, "I've been missing you".

you hear his breath hitch, the clicking and movements of the controller slow down, he falters only for a moment, as he tried his hardest to focus on the match he was playing.

you take notice that he hasn't completely been swayed from the game, you need to switch things up, you sigh scooting over to sit right beside him, pulling one knee up to your chest and the other hanging at the end of the bed.

you wait a while because you know when he says "he's only been playing for a couple of hours," it's always way longer than that, he just wanted to continue playing.

so you stay patient and watch.

a small pout begins to form on your lips, as it's been a while now. 2 hours to be exact, and all you have been doing was watching him play and talk to his friends, you watch his avatar running and shooting with his friends, you loved video games too, you played them yourself, but you wanted his attention.

even when he is locked in, you can't help but admire and adore him, how the focused glow of the screen highlights the sharp lines of his jaw and makes his eyes sparkle more than they normally do. he looked fine as hell.

you look at him his face concentrated and contour and you smile he looks handsome as hell, and you let him know that too.

"you're so handsome," you murmured, your voice low but you know he would hear, as your nails scratch the back of his neck lightly.

he lets out a breath "thank you, baby".

the tension in his shoulders drop a little

he hears your tone the looseness in your voice, the need.

you drape one leg over his legs and kiss his ear, whispering things into his ear.

he covers his mic with hand.

"baby, chill" his voice low, strained a bit like he is holding back, he pleaded lightly but his eyes were still on the screen.

that isn't what you wanted, you wanted him looking at you.

"want you, bad" you murmured quickly and pressing a soft kiss onto his ear, knowing that would get some reaction.

you hear a groan escape him, his grip on the controller tightens, you don't hear what his friends are saying but you hear them talking and laughing through the headset, it seems like his homeboys demanded his focus, he moved to concentrate, he scoots away from you, creating a gap you didn't like.

that stung, a deep pout forming a bit of hurt claiming you.

"fine, have your game then not your girlfriend who wants and needs your attention." you say

he goes to speak to you but instead he responds to his friends saying "guys. guys move round back i'm coming, that motherfucka who killed me, he's hiding in that building let's get his ass"

weeks of exhausting finals and studying, you didn't want him as a tutor anymore. you didn't just want his presence, you wanted his true undivided attention. his arms around you, you wanted to sit on his lap and ride him, you would take anything at this point.

you wanted his cock in you or in your mouth, you didn't care, you want his hands on your face, his lips on yours, you wanted to be touched. you wanted to hear him say that he was proud of you and all of your hard work. you wanted his cock in every way, your stomach doing flips, and your soaked just at the thought, your pussy pulsating with need.

if he was so busy, you have to find another way to draw it out of him or deal with it, find the release you were looking for; you have to raise the bar to get him to break.

so you try again but this time it would be different.

as you make your way back to him, your chest pressed to his back, you watch him play the game and kiss his neck, but this time your hand was moving, caressing his chest, and your hands slowly make there was to his waistband

"he-hey baby what's-" he tries to question, but you aren't having any of it

"shhh, keep playing the game like you were before, keep talking to your friends, since you wanna be on the game so bad". you tell him sternly whispering in his ear , as you lick the shell of his ear.

he inhales, clearing his throat trying to ignore the feeling of your hand going down his pants and feeling the outline of his dick.

you rest your head on his shoulder as you watch him play, while your hand makes his way into his boxers.

he moves the mic away from his lips turning his head to you "b-baby, cmon this ain't fair i'm playing the-"

"and continue to play" you smile pressing a soft kiss on his cheek.

you wrap your hand around him. around the base of his dick

you hear the inhale he takes as he moves the mic back to his lips, hesitating to speak as you begin to move your hand slowly around his, feel the heft in your hand, you can feel him throbbing just a bit, and you can't lie that it puts a smile on your face.

he hasn't said a word, but you hear the muffled voice of his friends talking on his headphones.

you feel his chest inhale sharply has your hand begins to move faster.

"baby, i think your friends are talking to you answer them, think you need to move in the game you have been afk for a minute"

his breath shudders, you kiss his ear, the one that isn't covered by the headphone.

"l-last round guys" he announces in the mic he says clearing his throat trying to mask the noises he really wants to let out.

you smile, you continue to stroke him faster, feel him completely hard now and you ask him, you know just to tease him and get on his nerves

"last round, already?? there is three more to go, keep playing baby, play for me" you whisper, giving light kisses on his ear as you feel a little spot of pre cum forming on his tip, you move it around the head of him and he groans.

"uh- t-they are one me, the enemy is close- b..by" he lets out a weak call out to his friends.

"all i wanted was some time baby, but you were busy playing the game" you say as before you lick his ear "wanted time but you were busy on the game talking to your friends"

he nods, trying to turn his head over his shoulder to reach your lips and kiss you. you move back just a bit, not all the way, just enough that he can't reach your lips anymore, as they remained puckered, he frowns.

you put your hand under his chin and redirecting his focus back on the screen.

his hips jerk slighty trying to meet the thrust of your hand.

you won't let him cum. not like this. you just wanna get him started, you want him close.

you loosen the grip on your dick and get off the bed, moving in front of him, slowly going on your knees.

his eyes are practically begging you not to, you can tell by the way his eyebrows scrunch up. but you know from how he was throbbing in your hand and how he his breath quickened, you know he wants it.

you smiles as you caress his thigh, leaving sweet kisses on his thighs as you look up at him.

a devious smile on your face.

you hold him at the base of his dick and stroke lightly, as you kiss the tip and you feel the throb in your hand, his head down now looking at you, as your eyes lock you move forward your mouth completely swalling him, he groans, not talking as his hands barely move on the controller and his eyes are closed.

you slip out of his mouth and he sighs, a whine leaves his mouth. his mic still on. you looked at him and then turned back to the tv to see his avatar barely moved from where you last saw it.

"what? you done playing?" you ask innocently

his jaw clenches. and take a frustrated sigh, dick hard as hell throbbing as he clears his throat and talks into the mic

you stand up and straddle his thigh kissing his ear that isn't covered "mmm baby, tell me im a good girl". as you kiss his ear. "i wanna hear it, i've been missin you and i come home and your on the game, not paying attention to me"

sammie lets out a heavy exhale as he is having a hard time listening to his friends on the game, and you in his other ear, whispering to him how much you need him, and his dick, how badly you ached for him.

you begin to grind on his thigh.

"baby, please i missed you too i just-" his words die in his throat as he feels the wetness between your thigh.

“sammie i need you, please” you plead, kissing his neck

you lift your knees and grind on his thigh, you feel the flex of his muscles and you gasp, causing your back to arch and grind more. He throws his headset off and turns the game off, his hands immediately grabbing on ass.

“i got you baby, you need to use me? go ahead” he kisses you, his lips meeting yours and moving your hips against his thigh.

“you just couldn’t wait could you?” your hand slips around his dick, stroking him.

your head drops with your mouth parting, gasping.

“take these panties off” sammie groans as he is already pulling them down for you and you lift your hips, removing your soaked panties.

now your bare already wet clit is making contact with his flexed thigh and you hiss “ooou shit”

“mmmm, you’re so wet baby, these panties soaked and you just all wet for me”

all you could do was nod as you felt the pressure building up inside of you.

“stop that nodding shit, you wanted my attention so now i’m giving it to you, talk to me, answer me baby,” he says with a smile on his face as he move your hand from his dick, replacing his own hand.

“nnnggghh, i don’t know what you want me to say!” you whine as your hips move sloppier.

a devious smile creeps on his face “bout that final. how was it tell me what you remember?” he asks seeing the pout on my face

“no, t-that’s too much work” tears prick into your eyes. this was not a part of your plan. you did not want to think right now. you wanted to fuck.

“you’re my sweet. smart girl right? you got it” his sweet voice encouraging you as always

you don't answer as the words die from the pressure being stirred in your lower belly. your hips moving on there own. sammie watches you and sees that you are close, he places his hands on your waist, seeing that you aren't truly listening to him.

"baby, i want you to answer these questions for me, while you grind on me, you don't have to pleasure me right now this about you. can you do that for me?" he asked with a light smile on his face and his dick that throbbed.

"yes i can, please i'll be good, but i wanna please you too" you promise as you kiss him.

you hiss as he lifts you to straddle him fully now, your knees on the sides of his waist as he makes you hover over him lining you up with him.

"please-"

his hands find your clit as he rolls it "shhh, how does surface area influence reaction rate?"

your eyebrows furrow as he traced circles on your clit, your hands find his shoulders, you clench, you take his shirt off, and take your own off, throwing them somewhere behind you.

"what?" you ask confused on why he is asking your chem questions right now. at a time like this. where you are practically dripping on his fingers down to his dick.

"you heard me pretty, how does surface area influence reaction rate?" he asks again as his neck cranes to look up at you, watching your face

"uh, by increasing the surface area of reactant molecules, we increase the space or point of contact that the molecules have avaliab-"

he moves your hips down, as he eases only the tip into you, he knows what he's doing and he's getting a rise out of it.

"gimme" is all you can say. no, no, not say beg.

"finish the answer" he simply tells you as he is looking down at only his tip that has entered you.

you think quickly on what you were saying "um, ummmm, oh oh that the molecules have available to interact, that causes an increase in the rate o reaction!"

you know the answer is right and you want your reward.

you slam down onto him.

he groaned, "fuuucckkkk, baby," his hands immediately wrapping around you, caressing your back.

the sounds were obscene you heard how wet you were and you just didn't care.

"fuck, baby slow down, question fa-fu-for you, h-how does a -catalyst speed up a-ch-emical reaction?." sammie chokes out trying to focus on his question and the feeling of him inside you.

he holds your hips down making you sit down on his dick, taking him fully, you stay there for a moment needing to adjust to him.

"i wanna fuck, not answer questions i already took my final already" you whine kissing him, trying to lift your hips that he has pinned down to him"

"ffuck ! ok okayyy! uh a catalyst-" shit what do they do?? "umm they speed up a chemical reaction by f-finding an alternate pathway with a lower activation energy?' you answer, you answered as a question, not as confident in yourself.

sammie looks at you, his eyebrow quirking up and head tilting a little. "you sure? you don't sound so sure baby?

you lean your head on his shoulder, trying to level your body to get some friction and you hear the chuckle that leaves him

"baby, you sure that's the right answer? you ain't sound so sure?" he questions again, as he pecks your neck

he knows you get silent when you're thinking so he gives you a minute.

"okay okay!" you never liked feeling rushed, mixed with the pressure of him in you and him questioning you, its overwhelming.

"it finds the alternate pathway but with a higher activation energy?" you aren't sure, you just wanted to move at this point.

he lifts you up. holding you in his arms until your back meets the bed and he leaves your briefly but quickly returns. his dick filling you up deep inside. as is on top of you.

"ffuuck!" you exclaimed

"what did i say about second guessing yourself baby?" he looks you in your eyes as if he isn't fucking the shit out of you.

"not to" you quickly answer "i'm sorry, i'm sorry"

a smile finds his lips as his hips never stopping meeting yours, "i love you baby, my smart princess and i know you did good on your final, you were right the first time about the lower activation energy. never doubt yourself"

"you are so beautiful, so smart, fuck baby you feel so good" he praises you as he pound into you, causing your breast to jiggle just a bit but all you could truly hear was the praises he was whispering in your ear and the squelching sound he was making your pussy sound.

"s-sammie shhiit, i love you, i'm- mmmm gonna hngh!!, gonna cum baby!"

"i love you too, that's my pretty girl" he growls, as he spreads your legs wider and panting with need.

"mmmfucck, baby," you whine, with tears streaming down. your senses feel overstimulated, your clit, the sounds and sammie groaning in your ear.

"you gonna cum?, yeahhh, you bout to cum ain't you?." he growls with a grin on his face.

the pressure and pace is fast.

"you feel so good baby, this that smart pretty pussy feels like huh?" he mumbles under your breath, his tone has changed, its not even talking to you, he's talking to her. your pussy

"making all those noises cumming for me" he whispers.

"mmmphh" whimpering as you take everything he gives you "i feel you, you are so deep."

he kisses you, "c'mon, cum for me, you 're so messy look at all that." as he has one hand near your head, he takes his other hand and his finger makes his way towards your clit again. causing you to throw your head back in pleasure.

"you wanted my attention, baby, now look at yourself can't even take it," he pants.,

he wasn't far behind himself "shhiitt" he groans as his hips finally begin to slow down.

his lips meet yours again, and his lips meet your hairline causing you to smile.

"t-thank you baby" you manage to say as are catching your breath, he gives a weak nod, slowly pulling out of you.

"anytime baby," he says as his back hits the mattress, and he lies beside you.

"even on the game?" you ask with a playful smirk.

sammie chuckles, shaking his head, letting out a huff of breath. "even on the game" as he lightly kisses your forehead.

you give him a knowing smirk and press a final kiss on his cheek. you move closer to lay on his chest listening to his heartbeat. as you guys lay there for a while, catching your breath. the room was in a comfortable silence.

until you heard it ???

a faint, tinny tiny sound, it sounded tiny, muffled person almost.

you lift your head off of his chest, trying to listen to what the sound could be. as you tap sammie's bare chest, needing his attention on the matter, he peeks one eye open, looking at you, he mumbles, "what is it?". with a sense of relaxation in his voice.

with nothing else to say, you look around the room and get up from the bed and stare at the floor, no, no not the floor, what he threw on the floor, you pointed a shaky hand to his headset on his. sammie sees your face and grows concerned, as he gets up and looks at what you are pointing too.

you hear the muffled voices you thought sounded like angry smurfs were his friends he were talking to when he was playing the game.....on his headset.

you slowly look at him with a horrified expression on your face, and whisper, "sammie.. do you think they heard? did you ever mute?

sammie practically stared at the headset like it was a live grenade. "only one way to find out" he looks at you and picks up his headset, pressing one side to his ear and the mic to his mouth.

"yoo?" he says into the mic. wondering.

the sudden burst of his friends talking all at one. "we heard every damn thing since we've been playing." one of his friends say.

your eyes widen and you cover your mouth in embarrassment. wishing the floor would swallow you up right then and there.

sammie's jaw drops as he drags a hand over his face. "then why" he groaned into the mic "didn't y'all just leave the voice chat?!"

you hear one of his friends yell "well maybe you fucking forgot, but you are the party leader!!", he informs sammie "your avatar has been running into a wall the entire time, and we have called your phone and screamed for y'all, we ain't need to listen to the porno so we just turned our mics down and screamed until you guys would hopefully notice!"

one of his friends eric voice chimed in with a laugh "nigga y'all nasty as fuck, talking bout some chem, nahhhh y'all doing anatmoy and shit."

you groaned as you took a pillow and stuffed your face into it, wanting to hide. sammie turned his headphones off and returned to you, shaking his head and lying down.

you felt the bed dip just a bit as his body hit the bed, letting out a sigh as he shook his head, he looked over at you as your face was hidden in the pillow, he let out a bit of a chuckle.

"well at least they got a show" sammie joked shrugging his shoulders.

you turn to him slowly and smack him with the pillow, as you hear his full-hearted laugh pulling from him.

a/n & taglist:

i don’t know whyyyyyyy, this shii took me forever and a day! i was soo annoyed i stayed up at 3am adding more stuff to the end..i think that’s my problem 😭. but y’all let me know what y'all think.

lmk as always if you'd like to be removed or added to my taglist in the comments !

dividers @uzmacchiato

matt steps inside. the scent of him is distinct—the crisp bite of his cologne softened by warmth, a trace of sweat mingling with something deeper, something unmistakably him—the lingering ghost of his day spent in court. a war fought in words instead of fists, but the same brutality thrumming under his skin.

“come here, sweetie.” his voice is warm, rich, and deep, but there’s something wry curling at the edges, amusement at how quickly you’ve come to greet him. like a puppy.

he sets his cane and briefcase aside, and then his hands are on you, catching you as you all but jump into his arms. you’re naked, pressed to the solid heat of him, your bare skin soaking in every bit of residual warmth from his day.

“eager,” he murmurs against your temple, a hint of reprimanding. his lips find yours and you sigh into him, hands grasping at his jacket, your lips parting for him before he even has to coax them open.

matt tastes like bourbon and the city. something heady and thick, the bitterness of old liquor still clinging to his tongue as it slides against yours.

“missed me, huh?” his hand cups the back of your head.

your hands slide down, over the firm planes of his stomach, over his belt, until your palm cups the bulge at the front of his slacks.

his grip tightens.

you let out a small sound of surprise, breathless as he pulls you closer, as he walks you back a step, then another. there’s a bite to his touch now, a shift in the way his mouth moves against yours.

he breaks the kiss with a soft, amused hum, his hand patting your bare bottom. “you wait for me like this?” he asks, voice thick with something between fondness and amusement.

“mhm,” you whine, baby-soft. 

and he knows what you want, your hand still placed insistently over his cock.

he chuckles, dry.

“come on. to the couch.”

heat licks up your spine at the command, and you don’t even hesitate. you turn on wobbly legs, making your way over. he settles into the cushions with an ease that’s almost lazy. obediently, you kneel between his legs. your body hums with anticipation, mouth watering before he even touches you.

he sighs, dragging a hand through his hair, his other resting on his lap, thumb stroking at your chin. “eager, aren’t we?”

“wanna cum, matt,” you whimper, impatient having waited all day like he’d asked.

he hums, seemingly contemplative, tapping your cheek twice. “then you have a job to do first, don’t you?”

“and we go slow. ah-ah, hands in your lap.”

“go on.”

you duck your head, letting him guide you forward with a hand in your hair, your lips parting as you nuzzle against his growing cock beneath the fabric. you mouth at it softly at first, dragging your tongue over the intoxicating shape of him.

matt hums. his fingers tighten, muttering something under his breath, something that sounds like ‘—good for me.’ 

you tilt your head up, chin pressing against him. your mouth parts, lips open, pink tongue resting there like an invitation.

he unfastens his belt with one hand, the metal clinking softly. his cock is half hard when he frees it, flushed and thick, the tip gleaming. your stomach tightens at the sight, and you instinctively start to reach—

his hand yanks your hair back, softly.

“ah-ah. what’d i say.”

his grip loosens, rubbing small circles against your scalp like an apology, but his voice stays firm. “in your lap.”

you obey immediately, folding them neatly in front of you, thighs squeezing together as you breathe through the ache of needing to touch him, needing to feel him.

and then he’s guiding himself to your lips, pressing the swollen head against your tongue. you immediately suckle, greedy, like it’s instinct.

he groans, low in his throat, hand tightening in your hair.

“god—”

but you don’t want to go slow. you want him now, want him deep—

his grip tightens suddenly, pulling you back just an inch, just enough to make you whine, blinking up at him with glazed, pleading eyes.

he smirks.

“eager thing,” he murmurs, and then he taps the head of his cock against your tongue, light, patronizing. “slow down. or this is going to be over in thirty seconds.”

his tone is even, patient, but you can feel the tension in his body, in the way his muscles cord under his skin, the way his breath shudders slightly when you swirl your tongue over the tip.

he lets you sink down slowly, guiding your movements with a firm grip in your hair, controlling how much you take, how fast, how deep. at first, he’s merciful, letting you adjust, letting you savor the weight of him on your tongue. but it doesn’t last.

his pace picks up, and suddenly he’s using your mouth the way he wants, the way he needs, pushing you down, holding you there until your throat flutters wet and constricts around him, then pulling you back up only to do it again.

“there we go,” he croons, dark.

your nails dig into your thighs, knuckles white. he’s panting above you, abs tensing, there’s a little stutter in his hips when you swallow around him.

and then, in a moment of desperation, you forget yourself—you reach up, fingers grasping at his thigh—

he yanks you off with a wet, obscene pop.

you cough wetly, drool slicking your chin. his cock glistens with your spit, a trail of saliva connecting to your lips.

he tuts, shaking his head slowly, thumb wiping the mess from your cheek before gripping your jaw.

“hands.”

your hands fly back into your lap.

“and—breathe, sweetheart.” a pause. then, more amused, “so desperate you forgot to, huh?”

“messy thing,” he mutters, almost in awe, with praise. “but you’re trying so hard for me.”

you lean into his touch, nuzzling against his palm, pressing small kisses to the base of his thumb. he chuckles, shaking his head.

he allows you forward again, your mouth closing around his cock again.

you take more and more of him until your throat tightens, until your breath catches. he groans, the sound deep and approving, and then his grip tightens, guiding you down further, until your nose brushes the well-groomed base of him, until he can feel your throat fluttering—wet and tight—around him.

and then as if speaking about you partly to himself—

“you can take more. relax.”

he says it like fact, not encouragement. like he knows your limits better than you do.

your throat protests, gagging as you try to take more. you whimper, the noise muffled.

he holds you there. just for a moment. just long enough for your lungs to protest. he groans dark, ragged, wild.

you spasm around him, pleasure sparking at the warmth of his approval, at the weight of him on your tongue, at the way he moves you—slow at first, letting you adjust, but then—

—and then his hips roll up, forcing you to take more, forcing you to gag on it, and you gasp, hands flying up on instinct, grasping at his thighs for leverage—

he yanks you off with yet another wet pop. you sputter saliva this time.

“maybe you need a little help relaxing.”

his voice is smooth but there’s something underneath it. something that makes your stomach clench with anticipation.

he reaches for the glass sitting on the side table—a deep, amber whiskey, rich and smoky.

“take a sip.”

you hesitate, just a second. but then he’s pressing the rim against your mouth, tipping it just enough for the first taste to roll over your tongue. the burn is sharp, spilling heat down your throat in one searing rush. you cough, blinking against the sting as the fire spreads through your chest.

his cock slides nudges your lips, a silent command. you open up, still dazed from the whiskey burning its way through your blood. your mouth is slick, your throat relaxed, but your head feels light, your skin hot, every nerve humming.

when he pulls you up again, the rim of the glass is waiting at your lips.

matt hums, low, approving when you sip and cough again. “swallow. there you go.”

but he’s listening. the quick flutter of your pulse beneath his fingers, the way your throat flexes, adjusting. his grip slides to your jaw, thumb pressing just below the hinge, feeling the way your muscles tighten, relax.

“good girl,” he croons, tilting your chin up. “breathe.”

you exhale shakily, warm and tinged with whiskey. he catches it, head tilting slightly, inhaling deep. he knows exactly how much has hit your bloodstream already, how it’s settling into your limbs.

not yet.

his cock drags against your parted lips. your breath stutters, but you take him deeper, no jittering, no clumsy struggle. just your lips sealing around him, the wet heat of your mouth drawing him in, deeper, deeper—

he exhales sharply, grip flexing against your scalp. “that’s it.”

another breath of air. another sip.

then he’s guiding you back down. the taste of whiskey still lingers, coating your tongue, blending with the salt of his skin, the deep musk of him.

he keeps feeding you. keeps fucking your mouth. his rhythm stays slow, but the weight of him presses deeper, nudging against the back of your throat.

another breath of air. another sip.

until—

hic.

your throat spasms, a sudden jolt, and your whole body tenses involuntarily. you choke, a wet, desperate sound, and his grip tightens immediately, yanking you back just enough to keep you from losing it completely.

he listens. assesses. tracks the way your muscles have slackened.

then he exhales sharply through his nose.

you’re at your limit.

he sets the whiskey aside. you blink up at him, lips slick, pupils blown wide. his palm cradles your jaw, tilting your chin up, thumb pressing lightly against your throat, feeling your pulse hammer under his touch.

“proud of you.” his voice is softer now.

—

your head lolls, time slipping, shifting. the heat changes—no longer burning, but pooling low, pulling you under.

you moan, before you realize you’re sitting astride matt’s bare thigh, your hips rocking helplessly against the hard, warm muscle beneath you.

“there you go,” he murmurs, voice rough like gravel. his palms slide slowly up your sides, calloused thumbs dragging against your skin, making you shiver. “easy does it.”

matt’s chest is bare beneath your grasping fingers, muscles slicked lightly with sweat, the thin sheen catching the dim glow of the city lights filtering through the window. his breath fans warm across your collarbone, mouth pressing open, hungry kisses along the curve of your throat. his tongue drags lazily against your skin, leaving hot, wet trails.

“that's it, sweetheart, keep moving just like that,” matt murmurs roughly against your jaw, chuckling softly. his calloused hands roam over your body with unapologetic roughness. his fingers dig into your hips, controlling your rhythm, dragging you forward then back, helping you ride his thigh in slow, torturous strokes.

“messy,” he says, amusement lacing his voice. you inhale deeply, dizzy from the scent of him—the crisp, fading spice of his cologne mingled now with sweat, whiskey, and a sharp, masculine heat that’s uniquely matt.

his thumb drags roughly over your nipple, rolling it and you jolt against him, thighs squeezing tighter around the solid muscle of his thigh. matt chuckles darkly.

“feel good, baby?” he whispers, tone playful. “grind a little harder.”

he punctuates the tease by sliding his hand down, thumb swirling slowly—achingly slowly—around your puffy clit. you sob his name.

“good girl,” matt whispers, breath brushing your mouth now, lips close enough that you can taste him already—bourbon and salt.

your fingers clutch at his shoulders, nails leaving faint marks in their wake. matt’s throat bobs visibly when you say his name. his silver cross glints faintly, catching your eye as his pulse visibly thrums in his neck, an oddly hypnotic rhythm that matches your pounding heartbeat.

you moan into his mouth, and then he’s kissing you, hard and deep, tongue sliding into your mouth. you’re pant against him, tasting the whiskey and him.

“open up more,” he orders softly. “give me that tongue.”

his kisses turn filthier, sloppier, tongues sliding messily, sharing air and saliva in languid motion.

his cock remains achingly erect against your thigh, flushed dark and slick with precum, twitching slightly whenever you move, smearing wet heat against your skin. you moan softly, almost dizzy from how badly you want him, how desperately you crave him filling you.

“matt—” you whisper, your voice rough.

his beard scratches gently against your skin. you whine softly into the kiss, hips grinding down harder, wetter, messier against his thigh, slick smearing everywhere as you chase the friction desperately. he pats your bottom in reassurance.

“soon. i promise.”

his palms slide roughly over your ass, kneading, pulling you tighter against him, until your swollen clit drags deliciously against his thigh. you’re so wet, slick smearing onto his skin, every movement sending sharp jolts of pleasure through your thighs. your breaths mingle harshly, sloppy kisses punctuated by panting, gasping.

“come on, sweetheart,” matt grunts against your mouth. “ride like you mean it—make me believe it.”

“m-matt,” you babble, hips stuttering.

then suddenly, you’re in the air—his hands gripping beneath your thighs, lifting you effortlessly, his strength an unshakable force even as your limbs go boneless. you let out a strangled gasp, thighs spreading around his waist as he maneuvers you exactly where he wants you, hovering over his cock, the swollen head pressing right against your entrance—so close, so close, but not enough.

“you want this, don’t you?” his grip tightens at your waist, fingers digging into overheated skin, holding you there, keeping you on that unbearable brink. his voice is so steady, so controlled, so infuriatingly patient despite the way his cock twitches beneath you.

“tell me, y/n. use your words.”

you whimper, clinging to his shoulders like they’re the only thing keeping you grounded. your whole body is pleading for him—every nerve singing, every muscle drawn so tight you think you might break if he doesn’t fill you now.

“please,” you sob, desperate, voice breaking as you writhe in his hold. “please, matt—need you inside—now—pleaseplease.”

the growl that rumbles from his chest is low and wrecked, his restraint snapping.

he thrusts up, driving into you in one rough, unrelenting motion, forcing you to take all of him at once. the stretch is instant, a deep, overwhelming fullness, punching the air from your lungs as he buries himself to the hilt.

you cry out, your body locking up, pleasure detonating like fire licking up your spine. the coil inside you snaps violently, your orgasm crashing over you, white-hot and unrelenting. you clench down hard around him, the spasms ripping through you in sharp, overwhelming waves.

matt doesn’t let up.

his grip on your waist tightens, holding you down against him as he grinds deeper, forcing you to feel every inch of him while you shatter. his hips roll up and up, dragging out every pulse, every aftershock.

“fuck,” he grits out, voice strained, control slipping, his hips snapping up harder, grinding against that devastating spot inside you that sends another wrecked, broken cry spilling from your lips.

he thrusts again, deeper, and then he’s gone—his body locking up beneath you, fingers bruising into your waist as a sharp, guttural groan rips from his chest. you feel him jerk deep inside you, spilling into you hot and thick, burying himself as deep as he can go while pleasure rips through both of you.

—

the world filters back in slowly—your skin fever-warm, your breath mingling with his, your body still trembling in the aftershocks of pleasure. matt holds you through all of it, broad palms smoothing over your back, tracing slow, grounding patterns into your skin.

his chest rises and falls beneath you, deep, steady, anchoring. outside, his city hums—greenpoint’s quiet streets thick with the scent of late-night takeout, the distant rumble of a motorcycle slicing through the stillness. the east river laps at the docks, a steady metronome beneath the occasional buzz of passing cars.

then, a soft kiss to your temple.

“you with me?” matt murmurs, voice raw, worn down by pleasure but still so gentle.

you hum sleepily, nodding, but his fingers tip your chin up, waiting.

“yeah,” you murmur, voice hoarse. “yeah, ‘m here.”

his hands roam, softer now—tracing your spine, checking you, mapping you all over again.

“c’mon, sweetheart,” he whispers. “let’s get you cleaned up.”

you groan in protest, clinging to him. “don’t wanna.”

he huffs a quiet laugh. but he doesn’t move, doesn’t pull away.

you nuzzle into his throat, pressing a lazy kiss there. his breath hitches, but his hands stay steady, one sliding into your hair, thumb stroking absently.

“you’re warm,” you mumble. “don’t need a bath. just need you.”

another deep inhale, another slow exhale.

“alright,” matt murmurs. “let’s stay like this a little longer, then.”

and so you do—wrapped up in him, safe, sated, time slowing to something softer. outside, his city keeps moving, slow and unbothered, streetlights flickering against old brick. but here, in his arms, the night stretches out like it belongs to you.

he humors you, as he always does, stepping in after you.

his mouth tugs at one corner, amused and patient as you twist the knobs, giggling as warm water cascades from above, still half-dressed, the water soaking your underwear and his dress shirt.

“oh, sweetheart,” he murmurs, hair damp with your little trick, voice thick with amusement, “you’re not really expecting me to say no now, are you?”

that makes you giggle, and you step out. before he can do it himself, you’re fumbling with his belt, struggling to tug it loose.

“easy,” he clicks his tongue, catching both your wrists in one large, warm palm. “look at you, shaking like a leaf.”

—

the second you both step naked into the shower, he’s already got plans.

his hands find your waist, grip sure and steady, and just as you’re about to remark on the strong water pressure, he pulls you in, presses you flush against his chest, cock half-hard and growing against the fat of your thighs.

his mouth dips to your ear, lips brushing the shell as his stubble scrapes along your skin, his breath hot. “oh, sweetheart,” he chuckles, low. “we’re gonna break this place in right.”

he tilts your chin up, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw—sloppy, his tongue pushing into your mouth. he pulls away, your chin in hand.

“open,” he says, and when you do, he spits into it, and then captures your tongue with his, swirling your saliva with his and the water all around you.

then he slowly guides you onto him, the stretch making you lightheaded.

“silly thing,” he chuckles low against your mouth. “so excited about our new shower. think you’ll still like it when you can’t stand in it anymore?”

his hand splays at the small of your back, the other sliding under one of your thighs to lift your leg he can pull you closer onto him.

you whimper his name, already losing yourself in the feeling of him.

“mm?” he hums, pretending to consider, a finger pinching your bottom lightly. “think i’ll fuck you right here. get you nice and wet—” his lips brush your jaw, the rasp of his stubble making you shudder, “—and then take you in every other room in this place. against the counter. the wall. new bed…”

you whimper, fingers digging into his broad shoulders. he’s impossibly strong, holding you up. he chuckles—low, indulgent—before shifting, increasing his pace.

“gonna make good on what i said,” he grunts. “fuck you in every inch of this place.”

his cross swings between you, catching the light. your half-lidded gaze locks on it, dazed with pleasure.

as with everything, he notices.

“here,” he murmurs, reaching up to press the cool metal between your lips. “in your mouth, baby. there we go.”

your lips part automatically, letting him slide it between your teeth. the cool metal rests heavy on your tongue—a reminder, an anchor.

“keep it in there, baby.” a hand slides down your hip, gripping, grounding. 

then he moves again.

slow, devastating thrusts, rolling his hips just enough to have you gasping, struggling to hold onto the pendant between your lips. his pace is deliberate, teasing, enjoying the way your lips tremble around the gold, drool slipping down your chin along with rainfall.

“—move with me,” he rasps.

the force of his thrusts sends wet slaps echoing through the shower, water cascading down your bodies, making everything slick, making his cock glide into you, obscene and easy.

you almost sob, your forehead pressing against the muscle of his clavicle, water blurring your vision.

“ach. drop it,” he warns, teeth grazing your ear, “and i’ll make sure your little cunt pays for it.”

and you try—you really do—but your body has other plans, trembling, clutching at him desperately as pleasure builds thick and heavy in your core. your whimpers are muffled by his skin, little broken noises that only seem to spur him on.

but then—it slips.

it clatters against his chest, breaking the spell for half a second. the sound he makes is soft, chiding, and then he pulls out.

before you can even plead, he's turning you around and his palm is between your legs, fingers pressing into your swollen clit, teasing before—

slap.

sharp, searing, pleasure-pain that makes your whole body jolt, makes you cry out, makes your cunt clench around nothing.

“—come here. nowhere to run in here,” he chuckles, voice thick with fondness and something much filthier.

his palm finds your clit, delivering a sharp slap that making you jolt. the sting lingers, sharp, electric, and he soothes it with teasing fingers, circling your clit before landing another strike.

but then—you slip.

your feet skid out from under you with a startled yelp, and in an instant, his arms are locking around you, holding you upright. he laughs—a real, genuine chuckle, vibrating against your back.

“stay still for me,” he murmurs, a little quieter, fond. 

“here. stand on the other leg.” he lifts you, one arm hooked under a thigh, keeping you spread open while his free hand goes right back to work, spanking your pussy raw, angling you so the rainfall hits you just so, letting the water hit your clit as his fingers never stop, never slow.

his fingers tease, slap, coax, until you’re writhing—shuddering out between broken sobs of pleasure.

“yeah?” he chuckles, breath warm against your temple. “you like that?”

“that’s it, baby.” he swirls a thumb hard against you. “thaaat’s it.” 

“cum it out, silly girl.”

when the pleasure makes one of your legs kick on their own, he grunts, keeping you in his hold.

“come on.” he grits. “niiice big one for me.”

“cum—it—out.”

and you do—you shatter in his arms, a broken sob of pleasure leaving you as the stimulation overwhelms, pleasure crashing through you so hard you can barely breathe. your head drops to his shoulder, his breath hot against your wet skin as he holds you through it, body trembling in his arms.

but he’s not done.

he sets you down only briefly—long enough for you to slide onto your knees, long enough for him to fist his cock, guiding it between your parted lips. you don’t even think—you just open, eager and dazed, tongue darting out to taste him.

“good—girl,” he groans, fisting his fingers into your hair, holding you steady as he thrusts deep, fucking your mouth the same way he fucked your pussy—slow at first, then rougher, deeper, until your eyes water, until spit drips down your chin, until he’s groaning—wrecked—pulling you flush against him as he spills down your throat.

by the time you’re done, the water’s turned lukewarm, your limbs weak, your body spent. matt chuckles, hauling you up against his chest, pressing one last kiss to your temple.

“we need another shower,” you pant, voice hoarse.

matt chuckles.

“hmm,” he says, thoughtful, dry. “maybe a new water bill.”

outside, the city hums beyond the office walls—sirens in the distance, the faint rumble of the g line, the occasional footstep from a colleague walking the hall. the lights are off, but the door isn’t even locked. matt had barely gotten it shut before you were on him, hands desperate, cheeks hot, and now—

now, he’s over you—your shirt by the foot of his chair, skirt and panties discarded somewhere between the door and the desk—trapping you under his weight, his body hot against yours. his stubble scrapes along the back of your shoulder as his head drops forward, breath heavy.

“do you pick the worst moments, sweetheart.”

his voice is low and reprimanding—ragged, like your very presence pains him. but his hands don’t stop. his fingers are firm where they dig into your hips, holding you steady, dragging you back onto him, forcing you to feel everything—the full, unbearable stretch, the heat of him pulsing inside you.

you can hear it, too—feel it. the the slick slap of skin on skin, and the delicate clink of metal shifting, chain dragging against sweat-damp skin.

a single drop of sweat slips from the tip of the cross, lands warm and wet against your shoulder blade, rolling slow down your spine, instinctively making you clench around him.

matt groans, and you catch the faintest whisper: “—death of me.” his body jerks against yours, restraint fraying at the edges, his control slipping as his next thrust knocks the air from your lungs.

a soft whimper punches from your throat, and his arm comes around your neck immediately, forearm pressing up under your chin, bicep curling around the side of your throat, holding you there—locked against his chest.

the cross gets caught in the headlock, pinned between the flex of his muscles and the frantic pulse in your throat.

"sh—sh. someone passing by our door." he breathes, low and dark against the shell of your ear.

his other hand slides up your stomach—possessive—pressing you back into him.

his thumb strokes up, slow, just below your jaw, and the cross drags with it. his next thrust is rough, almost frantic, control slipping through his fingers.

“you're close, sweetie. can feel it.” his fingers tighten, the chain pulling taut.

when you cum together, it’s with his lips pressed to your hair, muffling his groan. his arm tightens, the cross pressing deep against your pulse as his hips grind you through your climax, you sobbing inaudibly into his palm.

but he’s already standing, stretching, unbothered. his cock hangs thick and spent between his thighs, still glistening from being inside you, but he doesn’t seem to care that you’re still empty, still desperate.

his lips press together, thoughtful rather than cruel, as he walks toward his dresser.

“sweetheart, you’ve had more than enough,” he says, voice rich with quiet authority, pulling on his briefs. “your body’s been through a lot tonight.”

he ambles toward the bathroom, rolling his shoulders, and you sob, voice breaking into a high-pitched whimper, legs twitching as you try to crawl after him. “matt, please—”

he sighs, returning to crouch beside you again, cupping your jaw, thumb tracing the trembling curve of your lips.

“i know, baby,” he murmurs, voice softer now, but firm. “i know it hurts. but this is what happens when you forget who takes care of you.”

his kisses you on the lips, softly. his grip tightens slightly, just enough to still you. “and that’s on me, isn’t it?”

your lips part, stunned and breathless, unsure how to answer.

he hums, as if deciding for you. “it is. and that means it’s my responsibility to fix it.”

his touch lingers for a moment, almost reverent, before he finally stands, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. “we’ll make sure you learn, won’t we?”

“you can wait. and you will wait. won’t you?”

his tone leaves no room for argument. you whimper, nodding, even as your body betrays you, hips shifting toward him, seeking friction.

he grips your jaw a little tighter. “words, sweetheart.”

“yes, matt,” you sniffle.

he hums in approval, presses a slow, lingering kiss to your lips. “good.”

but before he leaves, he murmurs one last thing against your mouth, low and warm.

“oh, and don’t even think about touching yourself while i’m gone.”

—

he should know better. he does know better.

but still, when he gets home that evening, he smells it.

stale sweat and need. the unmistakable scent of you, dripping and desperate, tangled in the sheets, shame thick in the air.

but you’re trying. you’re standing there, waiting for him, hands clasped in front of you like the perfect little thing you think you can convince him you are. your nightgown is fresh, barely covering the marks he left on you the night before, hair brushed, mouth soft and ready, bouncing lightly on your toes. your voice is small, careful despite your excitement.

“matt! did... did you have a good day at work?”

he doesn’t answer. doesn’t even acknowledge the words.

just sets down his briefcase with a slow, measured movement.

his fingers move to his tie, loosening it with an easy tug, sliding the silk through his collar in a way that makes your stomach flip. his watch comes off next, placed on the dresser with deliberate precision, the clink of metal on wood like a gavel, a sentence being passed.

“you must be tired,” you try again, shifting on your feet, a forced little smile tugging at your lips. “can i—can i do anything for you?”

then he moves.

before you can even react, before you can scramble away, he’s on you, pinning you flat to the mattress with a single hand on your chest. your breath stutters, body melting under the sheer weight of him.

his stubble scrapes against your cheek as he leans down, voice heavy with disappointment.

“thought i wouldn’t know, sweetheart?” his voice is low, steady, filled with something deeper than just frustration. “thought i wouldn’t notice?"

you whimper, beginning to protest, but he clicks his tongue, silencing you.

his fingers slip between your legs, pressing against your swollen, oversensitive clit, making you wail.

but this time, it’s not just edging. it’s a lesson.

he keeps you spread out, keeps you helpless, keeps you pinned beneath him, grinding against your soaked, overstimulated core as he works you back up. his voice stays soft, measured, lips ghosting over your temple, your ear.

“look at you,” he murmurs with a lilt of enthusiasm, a dry chuckle sounding when you sob, when your hips buck uselessly against his touch. "whatever are we going to do about you now."

his other hand strokes over your cheek, but his grip never softens. “this isn’t just about tonight,” he murmurs, voice dipping low, thoughtful. “this is about what you need. you need to understand patience.”

he stretches it out even longer than before. makes you really suffer. his fingers drag over your swollen, abused clit, just enough to tease, just enough to hurt, until you’re whimpering, sobbing, begging him—

but he just shakes his head, sighing deeply, rubbing his thumb over your trembling lips.

“this isn’t about what you want,” he murmurs. “it’s about what’s best for you.”

and you crumble under it, under the quiet authority in his voice, the absolute control in his touch.

he doesn’t stop this time. doesn’t let up until your body is too exhausted to fight back, until you’ve gone quiet, limp beneath him, nothing left but the soft, broken gasps of someone who’s been completely undone.

he lets go of you then, and for a moment, you think he’s going to leave you like this. but then, his arms wrap around you, hauling you effortlessly against his chest.

you shiver violently, body wracked with hiccups, barely coherent as he walks you to the bathroom. the world tilts, soft steam curling in the air, the sound of water lapping gently against porcelain.

“breathe,” he murmurs, lowering you into the warmth. his hands are steady, holding you upright as your head lolls against his chest, your body weak, shuddering. “i have you, i have you.”

his fingers smooth over your damp forehead, over the tear-streaked mess of your face, brushing away the remnants of everything he put you through. his grip remains firm, keeping you anchored, keeping you here.

he presses a final kiss to your temple, his voice steady, unwavering.

he decides then he'll make you stay up to see another sunrise.

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