ghostofbrock - Tumblr blog

ghostofbrock · 7 hours ago

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like no other man

pairing: toxic!bucky barnes x toxic!female reader

summary: your situationship, bucky barnes, invites you out to the bar with him and his friends. but when he leaves you alone to talk to some other girl, you come up with a plan to get his attention—and keep it.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), established situationship, smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, semi-public sex, dry humping, fingering (f receiving), handjob, come play/come marking, panty sniffing, bdsm elements, orgasm delay/denial, biting and marking, choking, finger sucking, some dacryphilia, referenced free use, dirty talk, daddy kink, praise kink, degradation kink, pet names (baby), begging, teasing, some aftercare, taking and sending nude photos, possessive behavior, toxic behavior, jealousy, referenced situationship between reader and john walker, very anti-john walker behavior, very anti-sharon carter behavior

word count: 16.8k

a/n: so, uh, this part took a little longer than i expected 🫣 and it's also longer in word count than i expected. whoops! i explained this elsewhere, but i ended up having to switch the last two parts that i had planned for the series because what i originally wrote didn't end up fitting with what the first two parts became after my editing process. so this was originally the ending, and it has some conclusion, but the next part is the proper ending. and once i'm done with that, i have plans to write a fic for the night that reader and Bucky met (and maybe more, we'll see). anyway! i hope y'all enjoy this part and that it was worth the wait!! ♡♡

you ain't my boyfriend and i ain't your girlfriend series masterlist

Picking you up in 30, baby. Wear something slutty.

Annoyance flared, hot and sharp, in your chest as you reread the text message from Bucky Barnes. It was a reminder that it had been his idea to go out, that it had been his idea for you to wear something he liked.

Even though he was just a situationship, just another guy on your roster, you liked Bucky enough that you’d done what he asked. You’d put on your skimpiest dress, a garment that barely covered your ass and made it look like your tits were about to spill out.

And, since you didn’t want to ruin the effect of the dress, you’d gone without a coat, darting into Bucky’s car when he’d picked you up and tucking yourself into his side when he’d parked around the block from the Brooklyn dive bar he and his friends frequented.

Bucky had kept you warm—until he hadn’t.

A shiver worked its way down your spine and you did your best to stop your shoulders from trembling, refusing to wrap your arms around your shaking body and curl in on yourself against the chill in the bar. Instead, you huffed an annoyed sound and shoved your phone back in your bag, zipping it closed for good measure.

There was no point in rereading the message again. It wouldn’t change how the night had turned out.

Everything had started out fine. Your heart had given an excited little flutter when you’d first read Bucky’s text earlier that evening, and you’d had to viciously stomp down on that emotion before it could bloom into something dangerous, something that came with expectations.

You knew better than to think Bucky was taking you on a date. You and Bucky didn’t do dates.

At most, Bucky took you out to his favorite dive bar to meet up with his friends, usually on a night when John Walker—another guy on your roster—wasn’t going to be there. Since Bucky and John didn’t get along very well, and that was doubly true when you were around, it made sense.

But you knew for a fact that John would be there that night, and Bucky’s request for you to wear something slutty had you feeling some kind of way. It almost sounded like he wanted to show you off in front of his friends, in front of John Walker—which was something a boyfriend would do.

But those were dangerous thoughts. Bucky had been adamant from the start that he didn’t do relationships, and you weren’t the type to push him. So you spent the entire time getting ready working to kill off every last butterfly that tried to take flight in your belly, and refusing to acknowledge the excited pitter-pattering of your heart.

It had been easier to ignore the emotions hovering at the periphery of your awareness when you’d hopped into Bucky’s car. Heat bloomed in your core at the wide, appreciative grin that spread across his face as his eyes raked down your body.

And when he’d slid his big hand onto the bare skin of your leg, his fingers flirting with the hem of your dress and teasing higher on your soft thigh, it had been easy to pretend all you felt for Bucky Barnes was lust.

When you’d gotten to the bar, Bucky had thrown his arm possessively around your shoulders, tucking you deeper into his side. You hadn’t been able to bite back the pleased smirk when you saw the smug expression on his face as you approached the table where John sat with the rest of their friends.

Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Joaquin Torres and Lemar Hoskins had all given you a warm welcome while John choked out a bitter greeting, his jaw grinding so hard, you thought he might crack a tooth. You’d hidden a giggle in Bucky’s shoulder, then he’d pulled out a chair for you at the high top table and helped you up into it.

When you’d looked at your other situationship across the table, John’s gaze had been filled with a possessive resentment that annoyed you.

It wasn’t like he had any claim to you—you’d told him countless times that you weren’t looking for anything more with him than the occasional hookup. But, for some reason, John always seemed to think you were playing hard to get.

So you’d tipped your face up toward Bucky when he asked you what you wanted to drink, giving him your order. Then you’d pulled him in by the sides of his canvas jacket for a loud, smacking kiss in front of all of his friends, and most importantly, John.

Bucky’s eyes had been sparkling with mirth and his smirk had been even more smug when he’d pulled away, his hands groping your hips in full view of the entire table.

Before he’d walked away, he’d tugged teasingly on the hem of your skirt, reminding you how little you were wearing around his friends. But Bucky didn’t seem to mind, he seemed to like showing you off.

Then he’d shot you a wink, and between that and the kiss and the way his hands seemed perfectly at home touching you, even in front of his friends, Bucky had your body buzzing and heating with anticipation.

And then…

“Everything alright over there?”

Steve Rogers’ voice was low and concerned in your ear, his arm nudging gently against yours and dragging you out of your thoughts.

Just that little touch offered some semblance of warmth and you had to brace yourself against a shudder, your body needlessly reminding you of how cold you were in your skimpy dress.

But just as fast as relief flooded through you, it was replaced by renewed annoyance.

Bucky had left to get you a drink more than 20 minutes ago, which was way more than it should have taken. And apparently you looked unhappy enough that his best friend was clearly worried about you, which only grated further on your already frayed nerves.

Bucky had invited you out, told you to dress in something slutty for him, and then he’d abandoned you all by yourself while he’d gone to who fucking knew where. He’d left you alone with his friends—and John fucking Walker, who hadn’t stopped staring at you since you sat down.

It took every ounce of self-control not to snarl at Steve, knowing he didn’t deserve your ire. But you also didn’t want him to know how upset you were, so you sat up straight, tossing your head and giving Steve your most charming smile. Hopefully it didn’t look too much like a grimace.

“Fine,” you bit out, trying and not quite succeeding in keeping the anger from your voice. “Just thirsty.” You trilled a laugh and shrugged your shoulders, as if it didn’t bother you even a little bit that it was taking Bucky so long to get you a drink.

Steve’s lips pressed into a flat line, a furrow of concern still wedged between his brows. Then he sat up taller, looking through the weeknight crowd toward the bar. You saw the moment he spotted Bucky, the corners of his mouth turning down in a frown before he quickly wiped the expression away.

“Looks like he got held up,” Steve said, returning his gaze to you. There was sympathy in his eyes that had your hackles rising, the urge to spit in his face clawing at your throat. “Let me go help him along.”

Steve moved to stand up, but you reached out and curled your fingers around his bicep, nails digging into his skin through his shirt.

“Don’t,” you hissed, the venom in your voice catching Steve’s attention. He wavered, half standing, half hovering above his seat. With a none-too-gentle shove, you pushed him back down. Your smile was flinty and brittle, your teeth clenched as you muttered, “Don’t help him with anything.”

A displeased sound rumbled in Steve’s chest and he stared at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. At least the sympathy was gone from his eyes, and that was victory enough for you.

Just as the silence began to grown uncomfortable, Steve let out a harsh breath and took a swig of his beer. “I hope you make him pay for it,” he grumbled, low enough for only you to hear.

A snort escaped you before you could stop it, and you caught Steve’s eye out of the corner of yours. An evil smile flickered at the edge of your mouth.

“Oh, I will.”

With that pronouncement, you let your devious grin spread across your face and turned your back to Steve. You held your head high as you looked through the crowd, wanting to know what was holding up Bucky for so long. But what you found made the anger and annoyance in your chest erupt into white-hot fury.

Bucky was talking to Sharon fucking Carter—and had been for damn near 25 minutes already.

Sharon Carter worked with Bucky and his friends at Stark Industries, and every time you saw her, she was always roping one of them into a conversation that lasted a millennia. She was always whining about her boss, or one of her coworkers, and never seemed to have the self-awareness that she was monopolizing the conversation.

You’d tried to be friends with her. You really had. But she’d never once asked you about yourself. She just talked endlessly about herself and her problems.

But what really annoyed you was the way she was always touching Bucky, always putting her hand on his arm and shoving at his shoulder when she laughed. And she’d laugh at anything he said, even if it wasn’t a joke, tossing her head back and letting her grating giggle fill the room.

That sound filtered across the dive bar, managing to be heard even above the din of other conversations and the indie rock music playing from speakers. It set your teeth on edge, a possessive fury you’d never felt before curling around your heart and urging you to act.

You were halfway out of your seat, intent on clawing out Sharon’s eyes and then ripping off Bucky’s dick, when a large body collapsed in the empty seat beside you. The one where Bucky was supposed to be sitting.

Before you even looked to see who it was, John’s pungent cologne filled your senses and your lip curled in disgust before you could wipe the expression off your face. Thankfully, John didn’t seem to notice, leaning too close into you and talking a little too loud, letting you know he was well on his way to being drunk.

“Y’know, if you were my girl, you’d never catch me talking to another woman when I’m supposed to be getting a drink for you.”

The slight slur in John’s voice confirmed just how much he’d already had to drink. You couldn’t imagine how he’d gotten drunk so fast, but one look at Lemar Hoskins, who was returning to the table with a couple more beers, told you everything you needed to know.

Stifling the urge to roll your eyes, you turned your attention back to your occasional hookup. You wouldn’t even call him a situationship, since John Walker was the guy you called when Bucky and all the rest were busy. But for some reason, he always seemed to be the neediest, the most inclined to be possessive.

“I’m my own girl, John,” you reminded him in a sickly sweet voice, the kind that was laced with venom he wouldn’t notice until too late—especially while he was drunk. “And I’m perfectly capable of getting my own drinks if I want.” You smoothed your hands down your thighs, tugging the hem of your dress down in a feeble attempt to keep warm.

“A pretty girl like you shouldn’t be buying her own drinks,” John scoffed, a boyish grin on his face, and for a moment, you remembered why you hooked up with him. He could be handsome, when you weren’t listening to the words coming out of his mouth. “Isn’t that right, Rogers?”

John reached around your back to clap Steve on the shoulder, the move caging you in against the table. His too spicy cologne filled your senses and made you want to sneeze or cough or do anything to get it out of your nose. Instead, you turned your head away from John and hid a grimace against your shoulder.

You suspected, based on the way Steve stifled a laugh in his beer, that he’d caught your expression. But Bucky’s golden boy best friend didn’t give you away. You knew you’d always liked Steve for a reason.

“Anyone can get their own drinks if that’s what they want,” Steve answered John’s question in an even tone, his eyes flashing with something like displeasure as he glanced at John over your head. When his gaze dropped to yours, there was a question in his eyes, but you simply shook your head.

You didn’t need anyone fighting your battles for you, least of all Steve Rogers.

“Well, aren’t you sooo progressive,” John sneered meanly, which only made Steve bite off another laugh with a swig of his beer.

You’d had enough of John’s weight resting on your side so you huffed an annoyed sound and pushed at his broad chest, shoving him back until he sat in his own chair. Unfortunately, that meant his focus returned to you, his fingertips dragging across the bare skin of your shoulders.

“No girl of mine would ever buy her own drinks, it’s my job to take care of her,” he muttered distractedly, his eyes on the spot where is fingers were playing with the thin strap of your dress.

John’s touch was making goosebumps rise all over your arms, but not in a good way. So you shimmied your shoulders and shrugged him off. Pinning him with a displeased look, you said flatly, “Remind me why I let you fuck me.”

At that, John chuckled good-naturedly, the rich sound rushing over your shoulders and down your spine. Despite your annoyance with the man, you found yourself enjoying the feeling of making him laugh, of the warmth sparking in your core.

Before you knew what you were doing, you found yourself leaning into John, letting the low rumble of his laughter warm your cheek. Your arm brushed against the leather of his jacket, and you moved closer, seeking his warmth, even as a part of you recoiled at the scent of his cologne and the beer on his breath.

“Because I take care of you,” John murmured, brushing the backs of his fingers over your cheek, his hand trailing along your jaw to the back of your neck, drawing you in closer to speak into your ear. “I always make you cum, don’t I, princess?”

Your lips pressed into a flat line as you thought back on all your dick appointments with John Walker. Sure, he’d made you cum—but only once each time you hooked up with him. Bucky, on the other hand, made you cum far more than that.

It was on the tip of your tongue to tell John as much. You were pissed and annoyed at Bucky for leaving you alone at the table with all his friends—and John was a much more deserving punching bag than Steve—but you also didn’t want to start a bar fight between your two fuck buddies.

And with how drunk John was, you didn’t think he’d take kindly to being told how much better Bucky could make you cum.

So instead of answering his question, you chose a different tact.

“You know I don’t like that infantilizing pet name,” you said to John, leaning back in your seat as you shot him an annoyed look. His hand squeezed the back of your neck again, like he wanted to stop you from pulling away, but he gave in quickly.

“But you’re my princess,” John said, pouting and dragging his fingers down your bare shoulder and trailing along your arm in a way that you knew was meant to be seductive.

Whatever warmth you’d felt for John moments ago had been extinguished by the memory of Bucky. Cutting a glance over your shoulder, you confirmed he was still talking to Sharon fucking Carter, which renewed the anger that had been boiling in your belly.

John was still rubbing your arm in a clumsy attempt at seduction, and you barely noticed except that his fingers were warm against your chilled skin. A shiver raced down your spine that had nothing to do with John’s touch and everything to do with how cold you were in your slutty little dress, almost cursing yourself for leaving your jacket at home.

You’d planned to beg Bucky for his jacket if you’d gotten cold, maybe reward him with a bj in the bathroom if he’d let you wear it all night. But he hadn’t taken it off when you got to the table, so it was still around his shoulders while he was still talking to Sharon fucking Carter.

Suddenly, an idea popped into your head. An idea that was probably toxic and definitely a little mean—but when had that ever stopped you before?

Beside you, John’s fingers were still idly stroking your arm and he was mumbling about everything he could do or give you if you’d just be his girlfriend, but you weren’t paying him any attention. You feigned interest, pretending you were listening to his old-fashioned and chauvinistic views on relationships until you could get a word in.

When he finally paused, you wrapped your arms around yourself and gave an exaggerated shudder, pouting up at John as you whined, “I’m cold, can I borrow your jacket?”

You knew it was a little forward to ask John outright for his jacket, but you didn’t have the patience to try to play it more coy.

Besides, John was drunk enough that it would take all night for him to actually notice you were cold, and make the chivalrous move to offer his jacket—and by then, Sharon might’ve tried to shove her tongue down Bucky’s throat. Which was unacceptable. So you had no choice but to ask John directly for his jacket.

Still, John hesitated, his eyes trailing lazily down your body. You could practically feel him eye-fucking your tits, his gaze lingering for a long moment on the plush expanse of your thighs beneath the short hem of your dress.

You had to fight not to fidget under his lascivious stare, wishing—not for the first time—that Bucky hadn’t left you alone at the table.

“You sure, princess?” John drawled in a low, rumbling voice that sent a shiver down your spine that was almost pleasant. “And cover up all that?” He gestured vaguely to your body, and you nearly rolled your eyes at the implication that his view of your body was more important than your comfort.

“Please, Johnny,” you simpered, pressing your soft tits up against his bicep, which was admittedly very firm. You pushed your lower lip out and fluttered your lashes in the most pitiful pout in your arsenal. “I’m so cold, you can see my nipples through my dress,” you whined. “I don’t want your friends to see my nipples.”

It was a lie. You didn’t care if any of Bucky and John’s friends could see your nipples—you knew all of them were too honorable to look anyway. Steve had held a whole conversation with you without looking anywhere lower than your chin.

But you knew the comment would irritate the possessive streak John had. Sure enough, as soon as you voiced the words, he started to shrug out of his jacket, though he grumbled while he did it.

You thanked him with a placating smile while you pulled the brown leather jacket around your shoulders and pushed your arms into the sleeves.

It didn’t fit you well, and was a little uncomfortable. Plus, it reeked of John’s cologne, and you had to wiggle your nose against the urge to sneeze, but you endured it. You had a plan and the jacket was key, so you grinned and bore it.

Stealing a glance over your shoulder, you had to work to keep a glare off your face as you caught sight of Bucky still talking to Sharon. They’d edged closer to the bar, and you had the venomous thought that he might be buying her a drink instead of you.

Had he forgotten who he’d invited to the bar that night? What the fuck was he still doing talking to Sharon fucking Carter when you were sitting at the table waiting for him? You could put up with Bucky refusing to commit to you, but you drew the line at him blatantly disrespecting you.

Any reservations you might’ve had about your idea being toxic or mean went up in smoke at that moment. Turning your attention back to the table, you pushed away from John and hopped off your chair.

“Y’know, I think I will get that drink for myself,” you announced to no one in particular, whirling on your heel and heading off through the bar before John could even open his mouth to protest. Or offer to buy you a drink again.

There was an open spot at the bar close to the table where you could’ve gone to order your drink, but that wouldn’t work for your plan. So instead, you opted to walk down the length of it, making sure to squeeze past Bucky and Sharon.

Sharon’s annoying, grating voice met your ears as she yammered on about something, but you didn’t spare either her or Bucky a glance. You did, however, knock into his shoulder to make sure he noticed you while you pretended to be focused on finding a clear spot in the crowd to order a drink.

As you passed him, you heard Bucky suck in a sharp breath and you suspected he could smell John’s cologne on you. Even if he didn’t recognize whose spicy scent was clinging to you, he’d no doubt notice you were wearing another man’s jacket, and you had to duck your head to hide your smirk.

A little further down the bar, there was a place in between two groups of people where you managed to shove in and signal the bartender. You watched him catch sight of you, his eyes flicking briefly to your cleavage, which was framed perfectly by John’s jacket, before nodding to let you know he’d take your order next.

You settled in against the bar to wait, wondering who would get to you first, the bartender or Bucky. Thankfully, you didn’t have to wait long to get your answer.

A familiar, delicious scent swirled around you, distracting you from the unpleasant smell of John’s cologne. Muscular arms slipped around your sides, hands furiously gripping the edge of the bar to cage you in.

A broad chest pressed to your back, warmth surrounding you in the chilly air of the bar. For the first time since Bucky left you alone at the table, you felt like you could take a deep breath and settle into the heat suddenly blooming between your thighs while he pressed possessively close to you.

Wildly, you wished you weren’t wearing John’s jacket. You didn’t want anything between you and Bucky, unless it was his jacket draped across your shoulders. You wanted everyone to know who you’d come with, who you belonged to.

But you shoved those thoughts aside as soon as they flitted into your mind. He wasn’t your boyfriend, and you were pissed at him. So you were going to make him pay for it.

“What the fuck are you wearing?” Bucky growled, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as his deliciously deep voice filled your head.

It took every ounce of control in your body not to lean into him, not to press your back more flush against his chest and shove your ass into his lap. It didn’t matter that his chest was heaving with angry breaths, it felt good—it felt right—to have Bucky’s attention all on you.

Your heart was beating fast in your chest, warmth gathering between your thighs and making your slit damp with arousal. But you had a plan, and you were sticking to it.

“A dress,” you answered innocently, tossing your head and catching Bucky’s eye over your shoulder. “My sluttiest dress, actually,” you said, giving him a wide-eyed look with your lips slightly pouted like you were put out that he hadn’t noticed. “At your request, remember?”

Bucky’s eyes darkened, narrowing at your subtle dig about whether he’d remembered what he’d texted you earlier that evening. His mouth twisted into a snarl, and a dangerous look flashed in his bright blue eyes. In that moment, he looked furious and depraved, and you couldn’t get enough of it.

You knew you probably shouldn’t rile him up, not when you were wearing John’s jacket even though you were meant to be with Bucky, but you couldn’t help yourself. It was too much fun, and you knew it’d end with him fucking you good and hard.

Besides, he deserved to get riled up. Maybe then he’d understand how angry you were about how long he’d been talking to Sharon fucking Carter when he was meant to be getting you a drink.

“That’s not what I’m talking about you know it,” Bucky growled. His breath still smelled like the mint he’d had in the car, and you realized he hadn’t had a drink yet either.

Bucky pushed against your back until your body was pinned against the hard bartop. It dug into your ribs and made it difficult to take a deep breath, but that only made your pussy pulse with desire, your hole aching with the need to be filled.

“Whose jacket is this?” Bucky demanded, his voice dark and dangerous as it slipped into your ear.

Already, you could feel a bulge in Bucky’s jeans and an evil sense of satisfaction flooded through you at the realization he was getting as turned on by you as you were by him. You wanted to push him further, to grind your ass back into his lap and see how hard he’d get for you.

Instead you held yourself still and, in response to his question, you lifted one shoulder in a careless shrug.

“John’s.”

“John fucking Walker? You’re wearing John fucking Walker’s jacket?” Bucky snarled, pressing even closer, until you could feel every hard line of him against the soft curves of your body—the bulk of John’s leather jacket the only real barrier between you. “Why the fuck are you wearing John fucking Walker’s jacket, baby?”

The pet name was snarled with so much ferocity, it almost made you laugh. Bucky was more furious than you’d ever seen him before. Even more than that time you’d sent him a picture of your body covered in John’s hickeys. But you weren’t worried.

In fact, his reaction was exactly what you’d been hoping for, the anger pouring off him in heated waves that warmed your chilled skin. Finally, he was feeling a fraction of the rage you’d felt being left by yourself while he’d been talking to Sharon fucking Carter.

“I was cold,” you said simply, turning your head to look at Bucky over your shoulder. You pouted up at him from under your lashes, playing innocent since you knew that would only rile up Bucky even further. “And you left me all alone, what was I supposed to do?”

If Bucky noticed the fury that was edging into your tone when you reminded him he’d abandoned you at the table, he didn’t point it out. He only bit off a frustrated growl, the sound rumbling in his throat as his Adam’s apple bobbed enticingly.

You wanted to bite him there, on his neck, and leave a mark. You wanted everyone to know he was yours. Everyone, but especially Sharon fucking Carter…

“If my girl is cold—”

“Not your girl,” you cut in, giving him a look sharp enough to slit his throat where he stood.

Bucky’s mouth snapped shut with an audible snap. For a long moment, his jaw worked like he was grinding his teeth, his eyes blazing with an anger that looked like it could spill over at any second. There was fury and possessiveness and frustration in his gaze.

But somehow, he managed to keep his emotions reined in, taking a moment to collect himself before starting over.

“You came here with me,” he said pointedly, the flash of danger in his eyes daring you to contradict him. But you kept your mouth shut and he went on. “So if you were cold, you should’ve come and asked me for my jacket.”

“You were busy,” you spit, annoyance and rage finally fully bleeding into your tone. “You were too fucking busy talking to Sharon fucking Carter.”

You knew you were showing your hand too much, being too vulnerable by showing Bucky the depth of your anger at his actions. But you couldn’t seem to stop yourself. You were angry, but worse than that, you were hurt. And it was making you reckless.

“I’m not going to chase you across the bar and beg for your jacket because you’re talking to some pick-me bitch for too fucking long while you’re supposed to be getting me—the girl you came here with—a drink.”

For an excruciatingly long moment, your words hung in the space between you and Bucky. Your chest was heaving with heavy, furious breaths and you glared into the dark eyes of your situationship with all the fury and hurt in your heart.

Then, Bucky wrapped his hand possessively around the front of your throat, collaring your neck and turning you to look at him more fully. His expression was unreadable as his gaze swept over your face, seeing far too much, and you suddenly realized what you’d done, the mistake you’d made.

Desperately, you tried to hide your emotions, to tuck them away. Emotions had no business butting into your situationship with Bucky Barnes. You’d worked so hard to keep your heart guarded from him, but it was like he’d torn down all your defenses without you knowing.

And the most terrifying thing about that was how certain you were that he’d leave. Bucky had told you he wasn’t interested in a relationship, and you were clearly getting too attached, expecting too much of him. You were letting your heart get involved and you had no doubt he would run.

But, to your surprise, Bucky didn’t flee from you immediately after your emotional outburst.

“If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you sounded jealous, baby,” Bucky rumbled, a smirk flirting with the edge of his mouth. His voice was entirely too pleased, and you bristled in his arms, every muscle in your body going taut with fury.

You wanted to violently slap that knowing look off Bucky’s stupidly handsome face, to rage at him some more for teasing you about being jealous when he was constantly acting jealous about you and John fucking Walker.

But you settled for snarling, “Shut your filthy mouth, Barnes.”

Just then, the bartender you’d signaled finally approached, a charming smile on his face as he stared at your tits. It wasn’t until he looked up at your face that he finally caught sight of Bucky crowding your back, his arms caging you in possessively against the bartop.

You didn’t know what expression was on your face, or Bucky’s for that matter, but the bartender took an instinctive step back. That was probably a good idea. Whatever was going on between you and Bucky was volatile and it made sense that anyone else would want to escape the blowback.

“She won’t be needing your help yet, man,” Bucky said good-naturedly, his tone all friendly and charming.

It was such a contrast from the furious growl he’d used when he first found you, it made your head spin. You didn’t quite realize how effectively he’d dismissed the bartender until the man was beating a hasty retreat, quickly moving to help someone else at the other end of the bar.

Before you could do anything more than huff an indignant sound of protest at Bucky’s heavy-handedness, your situationship’s hands were grabbing your hips and manhandling you away from the bar. He held you in front of his broad body, leading you through the crowd toward the back hallway where the bathrooms were located.

Bucky lifted a hand from your hip only long enough to shove open the door to the men’s room, then his harsh grip was right back on you, squeezing your body possessively as he guided you through the doorway. It was hotter than it had any right to be, how easily he manhandled you into the bathroom.

Like any good dive bar, the bathroom was dark and dingy, with decades of graffiti and girl’s phone numbers written on the walls, which were lit only by a blue neon light. The mirror over the sinks was covered in dozens of lipstick prints, an anonymous record of all the other girls that had been fucked bent over the counter.

But your lipstick print wouldn’t be joining collage, since there was no way you’d ever put your mouth on any surface of that bathroom.

As if to prove your point, one of the guys at the urinals zipped himself up and turned, heading toward the door without washing his hands. He paused when he caught sight of you, making a strangled kind of sound that got the attention of the others in the room.

There were a couple more guys at the urinals, and one at the counter, fixing his hair in the lipstick-covered mirror. All of them seemed to pause and look at you with varying degrees of disgruntlement and curiosity. None seemed to notice the bristling man at your back, who grew more rigid the longer the men looked at you.

“Put your dicks away and get out,” Bucky snapped, moving you out of the way to give the men a clear path to the door. He ducked his head to check inside the bathroom’s single stall, but since the door had apparently been torn off its hinges at some point, there was no one inside.

The expressions of the other men in the bathroom turned knowing, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to realize they’d figured out what you and Bucky were about to do.

They all knew you were about to get fucked six ways from Sunday in the dive bar bathroom decorated in decades of graffiti, but you held your chin high, refusing to apologize for being the slut that you were.

Most of the strangers scurried out of the bathroom at Bucky’s command, but one lingered at the urinal, taking his time shaking off his dick and zipping himself up. You could feel Bucky’s fingers digging harder and harder into your hips as his patience grew thin and you tried not to squirm with your own restlessness to get railed.

Finally, the man swaggered toward the door, his gaze wandering lecherously down your body in a way that made your skin crawl. The way he looked at you, like you were nothing more than a hole to fuck, creeped you out enough that you pressed back into Bucky, pulling John’s jacket tighter to cover yourself up as much as possible.

“Let me know when you’re done, man,” the guy said, talking to Bucky even though he was still looking at you, leaning close to peer down the front of your jacket and get a glimpse of your tits. “I don’t mind a bit of sloppy seconds, and I bet this whore’s pussy will still be tight enough—”

Bucky moved so quickly, it took your breath away. He shoved you behind his back so he stood between you and the strange man. At the same time, he grabbed the guy by the collar of his crisp blue button-up and yanked him close so Bucky could snarl in his face.

“If you so much as fucking look at my girl again, I’ll rip your dick off and shove it so far down your throat, you’ll be choking on your own tiny sac,” Bucky threatened, a fury in his voice you’d never heard before—not even when he was talking about John Walker. “Do you fucking understand me, asshole?”

Even in the blue neon light of the bathroom, you could see the blood drain from the creep’s face, his expression contorting in fear. You couldn’t say you hated the sight—it was the least he deserved for how he’d looked at you and talked about you.

“Yeah, yeah, man, I get you,” the guy stuttered, trying to pull himself out of Bucky’s grip, but Bucky held the guy firmly as if waiting for something. “I won’t look at her, man, I promise—I promise.”

“Damn fucking right,” Bucky muttered ominously. Then he yanked the bathroom door open and shoved the guy out into the hallway so roughly, you saw him stumble and fall into the opposite wall.

The door closed with a dull thud that echoed slightly off the tiles, and Bucky quickly flipped the lock, kicking the garbage can in front of it for good measure before he turned back to you.

He was breathing heavily, his shoulders tight and tensed with anger and a nearly feral expression on his face. But when he caught your eye, his gaze doing a quick sweep of your body as if checking to make sure you were unharmed, you saw some of the fury drain from him.

Meanwhile, your body was a riot of emotions. The creeped out feeling the strange guy had given you was still lingering a little, but it was quickly being replaced by the heat of your arousal, and something else. Something like gratitude for Bucky for defending you.

It all twisted together inside you until you didn’t know where your lust ended and your real feelings began.

“Isn’t this the part where you tell me you’re not my girl?” Bucky teased, the side of his mouth lifting in a charming smirk as the rest of his anger was replaced with cocky assuredness.

It was only then, when he pointed it out, that you realized you hadn’t corrected him like you normally did. He’d called you his girl to that creep and you hadn’t butted in to remind him you weren’t his girl.

And as if that wasn’t bad enough, you’d liked it when Bucky called you his girl. When he’d defended you and protected you, it had felt good. It had felt right. Even though those were the actions of a boyfriend, and Bucky still wasn’t your boyfriend.

You could see your situationship with Bucky going off the rails and heading toward something else, something with a higher likelihood of getting you hurt. But you couldn’t seem to stop the emotions burning in your chest, the emotions that you had no business feeling for a guy who wouldn’t commit to you.

The smart thing to do would be to walk away, to put some distance between you and Bucky until you got your head on straight and got your heart under control. Instead, you threw yourself at Bucky. Literally.

Launching yourself at Bucky, you wound your arms around his shoulders, fingers digging into his soft brown hair, your lips crushing to his in a fierce kiss. You needed this more than you needed anything else in that moment—more than you needed to protect yourself, more than you needed air.

Bucky caught you easily, his arms circling your waist and holding you flush against his body as he spun you around and walked you back until your ass hit the edge of the sink counter. While his mouth devoured yours, the kiss full of nipping teeth and gasping moans, he shoved John’s jacket down your shoulders and then boosted you up to sit on it on top of the counter.

Eagerly, you spread your legs for Bucky’s hips to press between your thighs, your fingers grabbing his hair, his shoulders, the lapels of his soft, black canvas jacket. You sucked on his tongue, greedy for the minty taste that lingered.

He felt so strong and familiar beneath your fingertips, and realization dawned dazedly in the back of your mind—you knew his body better than any other man in your life.

You knew the curve of his neck and the breadth of his shoulders, you knew the planes of his chest and the way his muscles shifted beneath his back when he was fucking you. You knew the taste of him, groaning when he licked into your mouth, and you knew the scent of him like it was imprinted somewhere deep in your brain.

And Bucky knew you just as well.

He knew how to nip at your lips and fuck your mouth with his tongue to pull the dirtiest moans from you. He knew how grope your tits, shoving the front of your dress down so he could pinch your nipples and have you writhing on the counter for him. He knew the soft lines of your curves, his hands skimming all over your body and driving you wild for him.

And it turned out, Bucky knew your heart just as well as he knew your body. He knew how to break down your defenses and get close to you in a way no other man had ever before.

“First you’re jealous of Sharon, and now you’re not correcting me when I call you my girl,” Bucky muttered in between kisses, the scruff on his jaw dragging over your cheek and sending sparks of blistering pleasure straight to your core. “And you wore John fucking Walker’s jacket to try to make me jealous.”

Bucky’s strong fingers dug into the plush softness of your ass and he dragged you to the edge of the counter, his bulge pressing against your clothed core, your panties already damp with arousal. Your head fell back at the feel of his big cock against your pussy, a wanton moan spilling from your lips as you clung to his firm shoulders.

“Careful, baby,” Bucky warned, the warmth of a teasing smirk in his tone as he leaned forward and sank his teeth into your neck, biting at the fluttering pulse point beneath your skin. “I’m starting to think you actually want to be mine.”

“Shut the fuck up, Barnes, you’re the one who insisted you didn’t do relationships,” you growled, rocking your body against his, taking your own pleasure with a furious greed. “You won’t be my boyfriend, but you’re always calling me your girl… If I didn’t know better, I’d think you actually want to be mine.”

Leaning into Bucky, you sank your teeth into his jaw, tongue licking over the roughness of his stubble, and making him groan loudly. You liked the sound so much, you dragged your mouth down to his neck, biting him again, sinful delight filling your chest when his hips thrust against your core like a reflex.

“So what if I did?” he mumbled, burying his face in the crook of your neck and sucking a hickey into your skin.

The harsh, rhythmic pull of his mouth sent curls of heat licking through your body, making your clit throb between your thighs. You knew he was going to leave a mark, but you didn’t care. You wanted to be covered in his marks, you wanted him covered in your marks.

“Yeah, right,” you scoffed, laughing huskily, your fingers twisting tightly in his hair as you took out your frustration on his body, biting and sucking on Bucky’s neck to leave hickeys on his pale skin while you rocked against him. “You’re just saying that because you can’t stand the sight of me in John’s jacket.”

Bucky sucked harder on your skin and you let out a helpless whimper, rubbing against him like a cat in heat. Despite your fury—or maybe because of it—you were nearly feral for him, curling your body around Bucky’s and clinging to him, pulling his hair as you held him close, your teeth raking over his raging pulse.

His hips were rocking between your thighs, his denim-clad cock shoving against your soft, swollen and achingly needy pussy in a mimicry of how you wanted him to be fucking you. It felt so good, and you needed more.

You needed him to fill you up, to bury his cock so deep in your cunt that you’d feel him for days. You needed Bucky to fuck you like he owned you. Even if he’d never be your boyfriend, he could still make you cum better than any other man you’d ever fucked, and you needed that.

But before you got there, you needed to wrap up this conversation. You knew it would end the way it always did, with Bucky refusing to budge on committing to you, and you refusing to let him treat you like his girlfriend.

Ducking your head so your mouth was close to his ear, you kept talking. “You’re only saying that because my cunt’s the best you’ve ever had,” you hissed, an anger you didn’t fully understand dripping venomously from your voice.

But Bucky didn’t seem phased by your anger, only chuckling like he was pleased about something, though you couldn’t figure out what.

He finally pulled away from your neck long enough to drag the line of his nose up your throat and nip at the lobe of your ear. Your pussy pulsed between your thighs and you had to bite back a moan, not wanting him to know just how much you needed him. But, of course, the bastard already knew.

“Oh c’mon, baby, don’t pretend my dick isn’t the best you’ve ever had.”

His voice was deep and seductive as he slowly dragged the long length of his cock against your slit through your panties. He was so big and so hard and you wanted him so desperately, the neediness rushing through your body so completely that you momentarily forgot your anger.

His cock felt so good, it wrung a filthy moan from you that made him laugh smugly again.

“Don’t tell me your cunt hasn’t been aching for my cock all night—don’t tell me that’s not why you’re really pissed about me talking to Sharon, because you were so impatient for my cock.”

Not giving you a chance to respond, Bucky pulled his hips away, and you had to bite your lip against a whine, refusing to give him the satisfaction. You felt pathetic in the best possible way, your legs splayed wide open for Bucky in the dive bar bathroom, your panties soaked with the evidence of how badly you wanted him.

In the next second, Bucky’s hand dove between your thighs and shoved your panties aside, two fingers plunging into your wet cunt and wringing a cry from your lips. You were so wet that you could hear the slick sounds of your pussy as Bucky slowly pulled his fingers out and pushed them in again, fucking you in an agonizingly slow pace.

You groaned, clinging to Bucky’s thick biceps while you rocked your hips, trying to impale yourself faster and harder on his fingers as you stared at him through slitted eyes. You tried desperately to keep your heart out of your eyes, but it was hard to concentrate with his fingers working you so expertly.

“I’m so sorry for neglecting this pretty pussy, baby,” Bucky cooed, leaning in and brushing a kiss to your heated forehead. The gesture was so uncharacteristically tender, it made your cunt clench around his fingers.

Thankfully, Bucky didn’t comment on how your body responded to his sweetness. But he did seem to reward you, fucking you harder, his palm slapping against your clit while you moaned and whimpered mindlessly for him, hips grinding down on his fingers as you chased your release.

“But if you wanted my attention,” Bucky was saying, murmuring the words against your temple while he stared down at the place where his fingers were spearing you open. “You didn’t have to use John fucking Walker to make me jealous—you just had to ask.”

He curled his fingers inside you and your spine arched, sparks of pleasure bursting behind your eyes. Already, you were hurtling toward your release at an alarming speed, the lewd sounds of his fingers fucking your wet hole a soundtrack to your filthy pleasure.

“I’ll aways take care of you, baby. I’ll always take care of this pretty, perfect pussy.”

His words were too sweet, the thread of honesty in his tone too close to the surface for your sanity. Your fingers curled into claws, nails digging viciously into Bucky’s biceps through his jacket as fury swept through your body, chasing and twisting with the pleasure that swirled in your belly.

“Yeah, right,” you scoffed, your voice breathless but still managing to be hard. “You were too busy with Sharon fucking Carter to notice that John fucking Walker wouldn’t leave me the fuck alone.”

You weren’t even trying to hide your fury from Bucky anymore. He was dancing too close to something real, something you’d both avoided for so long, and it was scaring you—which only made you all the more furious. How dare he do this now.

But Bucky didn’t seem scared, or like he wanted to shy away from the commitment he’d avoided for so long. He seemed practically ecstatic as he laughed at your snarled words.

Smoothing his free hand down the side of your face, Bucky wrapped it around the front of your throat. The tips of his fingers dug into the sides of your neck, choking you lightly and making your pussy clench around his thrusting fingers.

He seemed determined to work you up toward a brutal release, one that would leave you forever changed, just as he seemed determined to knock your entire situationship off-kilter. All with a stupidly charming smirk on his annoyingly handsome face. The bastard.

“Y’know, I’ve never seen you like this before,” Bucky purred against your cheek, slowing his fingers down and adding a third. His thumb rubbed against your clit and you were so lost to the pleasure you nearly missed his next words. “But you’re cute when you’re jealous, baby.”

You wrenched yourself back from the depths of pleasure and huffed an annoyed sound. “I wasn’t jealous, I was pissed, you left me,” you seethed through gritted teeth.

Your angry tirade was cut off in a screech of protest when Bucky suddenly pulled his fingers from your pussy, leaving you pulsing, dripping and bereft. It was the most delicious kind of agony to have your orgasm denied so brutally, and it brought tears to your eyes.

Bucky tutted and shoved his fingers, slick with your arousal, into your mouth before you could give voice to all the vicious thoughts running through your mind. Even still, you narrowed your eyes at your situationship, glaring at him even as you licked your wetness from his fingers until you felt your eyes go hazy with desire.

“Uh uh, only good girls get to cum,” Bucky purred, a note of condescension in his tone as he pulled you close by the throat, watching as you sucked on his fingers. “And you’re not being very good, are you, baby?”

Your expletive-ridden response was muffled by Bucky’s fingers, but the message was clear—he could go to hell.

A storm raged in Bucky’s eyes, the blue darkening to a deep midnight a moment before he pushed his fingers deeper in your mouth, making you choke and gag. Tears gathered in your eyes and spilled down your cheeks but you didn’t relent, and neither did he.

“Stop lying, baby,” Bucky growled, a note of desperate pleading in his tone that you’d never heard before. “Admit you were jealous, or I’ll… I’ll leave you empty and wanting right here in the men’s room. Is that what you want?”

Anger surged in your blood, until the riot in your chest matched the storm in Bucky’s furious gaze. Of course you didn’t want him to leave you unfulfilled in the bathroom, but you weren’t going to give in so easily—not when giving in felt so dangerous, like you were admitting to more than just lying, more than just being jealous.

So instead of responding, you pressed your lips into a firm, stubborn line and slipped your own hand between your thighs. Your fingers had barely brushed against your soaked panties before Bucky was grabbing your wrist and batting your hand away, his mouth twisted in a scowl.

“Don’t touch what’s mine without permission, baby,” he snarled, cupping your pussy possessively.

His fingers dug into the fabric of your panties, pushing the soaking wet fabric into your sopping hole. He was fucking you too shallowly to be anywhere near satisfying, but it was so filthy that you couldn’t stop your hips from squirming on the counter, a helpless moan spilling from your mouth around his fingers.

“This cunt belongs to me, doesn’t it?”

Your hands lay limply at your sides for a moment, but at Bucky’s demanding question, they slid up his chest, diving beneath the edges of his jacket and fisted in the soft t-shirt he wore beneath. Your eyes were watery with tears of need, your pussy throbbing greedily and urging you to give in, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t.

You shook your head wildly, Bucky’s fingers falling from your lips.

A frustrated sound tore free from Bucky’s mouth, and his face pressed close to yours, your noses nearly bumping as he stared deep into your eyes, fury and something like hurt swirling in the depths of his gaze.

“Why do you always do this?” Bucky demanded, his voice harsh and his chest heaving. You could taste the mint on his breath and hear the little cracks in his voice. “Why can’t you just admit that you’re mine?”

“Because you won’t commit!” The words burst from your lips before you could even think about biting them back. Then, to your horror, more spilled out of you. “I won’t belong to someone who won’t even call me their girlfriend, who won’t be my boyfriend. I won’t—I can’t.”

Your voice broke on that last word and you had to swallow down a sob. Lowering your eyes, you refused to look at Bucky, feeling raw and exposed in a way you hadn’t in a long, long time. You’d said too much, and you couldn’t bear to watch when it turned your situationship against you.

You flinched in surprise when Bucky’s fingers brushed against your cheek, even though his touch was torturously gentle. You’d expected him to pull away, to retreat from the bathroom entirely, or, at the very least, to move past your desperation for commitment like it was nothing.

Instead, he lifted your chin until he could meet your eyes. His blue gaze was calm, his expression open and soft, and the way he looked at you settled something deep in your chest.

“Ok,” Bucky said, before dropping a sweet kiss to your lips. “Ok.”

Your heart was doing something…concerning in your chest. There was a fluttering feeling in your sternum and a swooping sensation in your belly that felt too much like hope. Meanwhile, your mind warred with itself, a part of you certain you hadn’t heard or understood Bucky correctly.

For a long moment, you were silent, simply staring at Bucky in the neon blue light of the dive bar bathroom, trying to determine if he was serious. You were sure that if you waited long enough, a smirk would break across Bucky’s face and he’d tease you for thinking he would actually commit to you.

But the seconds dragged on, and Bucky simply stared back at you, as if waiting patiently for your response.

“What?” The question was all you could muster, but it seemed to be what Bucky expected because he grinned then, the expression blooming across his face and nearly stealing your breath.

“I’ll be your boyfriend, baby,” Bucky purred, ducking forward and pressing a playful kiss to the corner of your lips, which were still parted in shock.

Your heart fluttered at the kiss, hope taking flight in your chest before you could stop it. Still, you forced yourself to press your mouth closed, firming your lips into an unamused line.

“Be serious, Bucky,” you said, an embarrassing note of pleading in your tone that you worked to cover up with anger. “You were clear from the start that you don’t do relationships.”

“I changed my mind,” he said, shrugging his shoulders easily, as if it was as simple as that. And maybe it was, but you still weren’t buying it.

“Men like you don’t change their minds,” you pointed out, narrowing your eyes at Bucky, looking for the lie in his face, but finding none. He looked perfectly genuine, which worried you even more.

“I’ll go out there right now and tell the whole bar you’re my girlfriend,” Bucky said, ducking close and pressing a kiss to your cheek as if he couldn’t stop himself. His next words brushed against your soft, tingling skin. “The look on John fucking Walker’s face will be satisfying, don’t you think?”

At that comment, a sharp, caustic laugh fell from your lips and you shook your head as realization dawned over you.

“Oh, I get it now,” you scoffed, shoving at Bucky’s shoulders until he leaned back enough to see the unamused glare on your face. “This is all because you don’t want me fucking John anymore, isn’t it? You don’t actually want me, you just don’t want me fucking him.”

Bucky planted his hands on the sink counter on either side of your hips, ducking down so he was at eye level with you and he tried to hold your gaze, but you refused.

You were terrified he might see right through you—see that you were fucking terrified he was serious because it meant opening yourself up in a way you hadn’t in a very long time.

“Hey—hey,” he murmured, chasing your gaze until he caught your eye. His expression was serious, more serious than you’d ever seen him, with emotions churning in his darkened gaze that had your heart fluttering in response. “This isn’t about John, or Sharon, this is about us. We have fun together, don’t we?”

It was on the tip of your tongue to protest. There was no way this conversation could lead to anything but you getting your heart broken. Even if it turned out that Bucky was serious, and he was ready to commit, all relationships ended eventually. It was just a matter of hurting now versus hurting later.

But as you parted your lips to make a mean comment about how Bucky was nothing more than a bit of fun, he quirked his brow at you, giving you a stern look like he knew what you were going to say.

You huffed an annoyed sound, rolling your eyes at how easily he could read you even as your heart warmed in your chest. Bucky knew you, and he still wanted you. Reluctantly, you gave your honest answer.

“Yeah, we have fun together.”

“Thought so,” Bucky teased lightly.

He ducked forward and pressed a quick kiss to your lips, a reward for your honesty, which made the corners of your mouth flicker in a smile.

“When I met you, I didn’t think I’d ever meet anyone I’d want to be in a relationship with, but you proved me wrong, baby.”

Bucky’s words were soft and sweet, such a contrast to the dirty dive bar bathroom you sat in. But somehow, the moment felt perfect in its imperfections. Because it was Bucky, and it was you.

Against your better judgement, your hands slid cautiously up Bucky’s hard chest, skimming up the sides of his neck so your palms cupped his handsome face. You stared into his blue gaze, watching the emotions flicker across the raging sea of his eyes—sincerity, affection and hope were all on display for you to see.

Your careful touch seemed to affect him, and he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat in such a way that you wanted to bite him, to show your own affection and fondness for him through a gentle act of violence. But you held still, holding your breath has he continued speaking.

“I want you to be mine—all mine, only mine,” Bucky murmured, his voice low and pleading and so seductive, it almost felt like he was casting some sort of spell over you. “And I want to be yours—all yours, only yours.”

Bucky wrapped his fingers loosely around one of your wrists, dragging your hand down from his face until your palm was pressed over the center of his chest.

Beneath your fingertips, you could feel his heart beating fast, a little unsteady, and you realized he was just as nervous as you were.

“Whaddya say, baby? Be my girlfriend and let me be your boyfriend.”

The feeling of Bucky’s heart beating hard beneath his sternum, matching the panicked and excited thrumming in your chest, was the only thing keeping you grounded and reminding you this moment was real. It felt too good to be true.

Ever since you met Bucky and he’d been clear about his intentions to never commit, you’d kept a tight leash on your emotions. You hadn’t allowed him to act too possessive over you, to say things a situationship had no right saying, because you knew you could fall for him.

Hell, a part of you already had, despite your best efforts.

And now Bucky was willingly standing in front of you, offering to be your boyfriend, to catch you if you fell in love with him. You knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you would be an idiot to say no to him.

You were still scared, of course, and you were still certain you’d get your heart broken eventually. But looking at Bucky, at the handsome face that was so familiar and steadying, and seeing the hopeful curve of his smile, you couldn’t help but think it’d be worth it.

“Ok,” you said, your voice barely a whisper.

Bucky went still, his breath catching like he barely dared to hope he’d heard you right.

Swallowing against the fear still churning weakly in your gut, you tried again, your voice louder, stronger. “Ok, I’ll be your girlfriend.”

A smile broke across Bucky’s face, as bright as the dawning sun, and your heart clenched at how handsome he looked.

Had he always been so goddamned handsome? His blue eyes bright even in the neon light of the bathroom, crinkling at the sides from the sheer force of his happiness. His mouth looked far too enticing as he beamed at you.

A strangled sound, something between a huff and a groan, rumbled in Bucky’s throat, and then his hands were on you, cupping your face and dragging you in for a filthy, possessive kiss.

You could feel his smile against your lips before he deepened the kiss, licking into your mouth and stealing the breath straight from you lungs until you were gasping and panting beneath him. Your heart was hammering in your chest as you kissed him back just as hard.

The kiss was overwhelming and wonderful and so fucking good that you couldn’t get enough. Your hands fisted in Bucky’s t-shirt, pulling him closer until there was barely any space between your bodies. It wasn’t close enough.

Shimmying to the edge of the counter, you wrapped your legs around Bucky’s hips, holding him between your thighs with his bulge pressed to your center, right where he belonged.

Except, not really, because he belonged inside you.

Wrenching your lips from Bucky’s, you gasped for breath while he trailed nipping, hungry kisses down your neck. Your fingers tangled in his hair, the taste of mint from his mouth lingering on your tongue.

Suddenly, you realized there was something you still needed to settle with your boyfriend before you could start begging for his cock.

“Now that you’re my boyfriend…” you began, panting as you were distracted by Bucky.

He was sucking on your skin, and his hips were thrusting into the cradle of your thighs, grinding his bulge against your pussy like he couldn’t get enough of you—couldn’t get enough of you calling him your boyfriend. You moaned helplessly, taking a moment to gather your thoughts before you continued.

“No more saying you’re going to get me a drink,” you said, trying to sound stern despite how breathless you were. “And then leaving me all alone while you talk to Sharon fucking Carter.”

“Deal,” Bucky responded without hesitation, lifting his head and looking at you through heavy-lidded eyes, his pupils blown wide with desire. It only made him look hotter, and you had the wild impulse to take a picture of him just like this.

A smirk curled the edge of Bucky’s mouth like he knew exactly what you were thinking, then he ducked forward and sank his teeth into your plush lower lip, drawing a whimper from you. His big body shuddered at the sound, his cock twitching against your core.

“And now that you’re my girlfriend,” he rumbled against your lips, his words spilling directly onto your tongue. “If you’re cold, you ask me for my jacket—no more going to John fucking Walker just to make me jealous.”

You were nodding before he’d even finished his sentence, but at his final words, you huffed a pleased sound and licked teasingly into Bucky’s mouth. “So you were jealous,” you murmured, smugness clear in your voice and in the vicious smile on your face.

“Of course I was fucking jealous,” Bucky muttered, his hands skimming up your bare thighs and pushing beneath the hem of your dress to grope your hips, holding you in place while he rubbed against your drenched core. “But you were jealous, too, weren’t you, baby?”

Leaning back on the sink counter until your shoulders nearly hit the mirror behind you, you stared into Bucky’s handsome face. His mouth was curved into a devastatingly self-satisfied smirk, like he already knew the answer to your question.

It occurred to you to keep denying it, to tell Bucky that you weren’t jealous, but the truth was you were. You’d been jealous of how much of Bucky’s night Sharon was taking up, and you’d asked John for his jacket to make him feel a fraction of how you felt.

“Fine, yes, I was jealous,” you admitted, rolling your eyes at Bucky. Then you turned a glare on him, your eyes narrowing at the victorious expression on his face. “But I was also furious that you were neglecting me, especially when I dressed up all slutty for you.”

Your words prompted Bucky to rake his eyes appreciatively down your body. His heated gaze lingered on the way your tits bounced lightly with your breaths, then on the juncture of your thighs, your soaked panties on full display with the way your dress was rucked up.

“You’re right, baby, that was fucking shitty of me,” Bucky rasped, his voice drenched in arousal as his gaze slowly made its way back up your body. “It won’t happen again,” he promised, staring into your eyes so you could see the honesty in his words.

“It better not,” you murmured, pouting up at him and making Bucky chuckle. He nipped your lip, making you moan, then soothed the sting away while you writhed against him.

“Good girl,” he purred against your mouth. “Now tell your boyfriend, is your pretty pussy feeling neglected, too? D’you need daddy to take care of you?”

Your clit throbbed and your pussy pulsed at the deep rumble of Bucky’s voice and you mewled pitifully, dragging Bucky even closer and nipping at his stubbled jaw.

“Yes, daddy, my pussy is feeling sooo neglected,” you simpered. Lifting your legs and hooking them around Bucky’s waist, you crossed your ankles behind his back and held him trapped against your body. “I need your cock, Bucky, I need it so fucking bad, please.”

“Baby, baby, baby,” Bucky crooned against your lips, his strong fingers digging into your hips possessively and toying with the edge of your panties. “It’s all yours. Take it out, stroke it, show my cock how much you want it inside you, splitting you open.”

“Fuck, Bucky,” you groaned, your pussy getting even wetter at his filthy words.

With one hand, you pulled him in for a deep, messy kiss while the other fumbled with his belt. It took you a moment to remember how belts work, then you were undoing it quickly and slipping the button of his jeans before pulling the zipper down.

“Oh god, I’ve missed this cock,” you moaned, wrapping your fingers around Bucky’s stiff length and giving him an affectionate stroke. “Are you gonna fuck me with this cock, daddy? Gonna fill up your girlfriend’s pussy with every inch of this dick?”

“Fuck, yes, baby,” Bucky rumbled, his fingers hooking in the hem of your panties and yanking them down.

You had to lift yourself up so he could drag them over your ass, and when he stepped back to pull them off your legs entirely, you whimpered at the loss of his cock against your pussy.

Bucky chuckled as he stepped back between your legs, one hand stroking the soft skin of your thigh while the other held your panties up to is face. He took a deep inhale of your scent while you stroked his cock reverently, your slit dripping with desire as you watched his eyes go even more hazy at the smell of you.

“Fuck, somehow your pussy smells even sweeter now that you’re my girlfriend,” Bucky groaned, fixing a playful glare on you that had your heart beating a little harder in your chest. “Why is that?”

A sultry smirk spread across your face and you squeezed his cock affectionately, drawing a grunt from your boyfriend. “Because it’s yours now, daddy,” you purred, “all yours.”

“That’s right, it is.” Bucky shoved your panties into the back pocket of his jeans, a feral look in his eye as he grinned and spread your thighs even wider with his big hands. His fingers shamelessly groped your soft flesh while you gripped his cock and pressed the tip to your drenched pussy.

“Bucky,” you whined when he held himself back from thrusting forward. “Need you inside me, now.”

Instead of indulging you, Bucky grabbed your wrist, pinning your hand down on John’s jacket beside your hip. Before you could even think, he’d done the same with your other hand, leaning close until your chests brushed, your nipples dragging against his soft t-shirt in a way that was both teasing and torturous, and his forehead dropped to yours.

“Is my girlfriend feeling needy?” he teased, his hips working between your spread thighs so his cock dragged against your sopping wet folds. You could feel every ridge, every vein of him, and it had you panting for him. “Is this pussy—my girlfriend’s pussy—craving my cock, huh?”

His voice was deep and patronizing, sending tingles of anticipation flooding through your body. A soft whine slipped from your lips, and you lifted your hips from the counter to grind against Bucky’s cock, but he only kept up his maddeningly slow thrusts against your wet, swollen cunt.

“It doesn’t matter that we’re in a dirty dive bar bathroom and your ex-fuck buddy’s jacket is under your ass, you’re a needy, cock-craving slut for daddy, aren’t you, baby?”

“Oh fuck,” you moaned at Bucky’s filthy words. “Yes, yes, daddy, all for you, only a slut for you. Please, Bucky, gimme your cock, I need it, I need it so bad,” you babbled, trying to angle your hips to take him inside your clenching hole.

Bucky’s fingers tangled with yours, curling in the soft leather of John’s jacket, which was getting damp from the arousal dripping from your hole. Precum was leaking from Bucky’s tip, joining the mess of juices slipping down your slit to your ass.

But you didn’t have the space in your mind to care or even think about how you were ruining John’s jacket, not when Bucky’s cock was wedged between your thighs, the hard length of him teasing your clit and wet hole.

“Tell me this pussy belongs to me,” Bucky said through gritted teeth, his jaw flexing with his effort to hold back. When you looked up at him, his eyes flashed with a possessiveness that was so greedy and hot, it took your breath away. “Tell me you’re mine.”

“It’s your pussy, daddy,” you cooed, pressing your body closer to his until your mouth brushed against the shell of his ear. You felt a shudder wrack through his body at just that gentle touch and couldn’t help but smirk even as you kept your voice soft and sweet. “I’m yours, Bucky, all yours.”

“Fuck yeah you are,” Bucky growled, untangling his fingers from yours to grab your hips as he pulled back and notched the tip of his cock at your entrance.

He gave you only the briefest of seconds to brace yourself, but you were more than wet and ready enough for him. In the next breath, Bucky slammed forward with a bitten off curse, burying the full length of his cock in your tight hole with one thrust.

A loud, obscene moan spilled from your lips, your head tipping back as you reveled in the delicious stretch of Bucky’s cock filling you up. You were plenty wet, so he’d met no resistence when he’d pushed inside, but it still punched the air from your lungs to be filled so quickly and thoroughly. You could swear you could feel him in your guts.

Your breaths were coming in gasps while Bucky’s hands on your hips pulled you closer, fitting your bodies together perfectly, his cock exactly where it belonged—inside you.

It felt so good, so right, that you couldn’t hold your tongue.

“How’s it feel, Buck?” you asked, your words breathy and drenched in pleasure. “To be buried balls-deep in a cunt that belongs to you? Does it feel better, hotter, when your cock is being milked by the pussy of your girlfriend?”

“Fuck, it does,” Bucky groaned loudly, his head dropping to your shoulder as his hips jerked reflexively between your thighs, like he was trying to bury himself even deeper inside you. But he was already pressed against the very end of you, filling you up completely with his thick cock.

You laughed at the tortured sounds Bucky was trying to muffle in your neck, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, fingers carding through his soft hair as you cooed patronizing sounds of sympathy in his ear.

At the same time, you hitched your legs up and draped your thighs around his waist, heels dinging into his ass as you held him flush against your body.

“That’s it, daddy, stay deep in your girlfriend’s cunt,” you murmured in his ear, pressing wet, suckling kisses to his neck and stubbled jaw, enjoying the little tremors of pleasure that reverberated through his big, strong body. “This is where you belong, Bucky, buried in my pussy, being such a good boyfriend and filling me up sooo perfectly.”

“Fuck, this was your plan all along, wasn’t it?” Bucky growled accusingly, more defeat than anger in his voice.

Before you could ask him what he was talking about, he began rocking his hips in little movements, grinding into you and stealing your breath from the pleasure that sparkled through your body. Desperate whimpers and soft moans fell from your lips as you clung to Bucky, trying to meet his thrusts but having to little leverage to do more than writhe.

“You made me crave this cunt so much,” Bucky went on, fury seeping into his tone as his movements grew more brutal.

His fingers dug harshly into your hips as he dragged you back and forth on the counter, like your pussy was nothing more than his personal fuck toy. It was hot and perfect and you never wanted him to stop.

“You drove me fucking wild with how good you feel, just so I’d claim you and make you my girlfriend—that was your plan, wasn’t it, baby?”

There was something in Bucky’s voice, some raw emotion that had worry breaking through the pleasure coursing through your body. Leaning back, you grabbed Bucky’s face in both hands and held him still so you could look at him properly.

There was a guarded look in his eye, but the longer you stared, the more you saw what he was hiding—devastation, masked thinly with accusation. It was the only thing that kept you from laughing at his preposterous accusation.

“Bucky,” you said seriously, and his hips paused, his eyes staring at your mouth like he was hanging on your every word. “I may have worn John’s jacket to make you jealous, but I haven’t been…” You trailed off, trying to think of the right word, but only one seemed right. “Conspiring to get you to be my boyfriend.”

You stared at him, willing him to hear what you were saying. You knew Bucky had some trust issues—you didn’t need a psych degree to figure out that was the root of him not wanting to commit to one person—but he knew you and you hoped that meant he trusted you.

“You know me, Bucky,” you said softly, using your hands on his face to tilt it up until his eyes met yours. “You know I was fine with our arrangement. You know I like you, but I’m not going to conspire or beg you to be my boyfriend—I don’t beg like that.”

For a long moment, Bucky only stared back at you, his eyes skimming your face as if searching for the lie in the curve of your lips. You let him look, because you knew there was nothing for him to find, only your genuine, open honesty.

He must’ve figured that out, because he softened little by little, until a smirk slowly curled the edges of his mouth.

“No, you don’t beg like that—you aren’t like that,” Bucky agreed, his voice low and rough. The guarded look was crumbling from his eyes, his blue gaze sparking with desire and need and something deeper than affection.

Ducking forward, Bucky captured your lips in a brief, scorching kiss that left you breathless. You wanted to keep him close, but Bucky stood up straight, his fingers digging beneath your ass to hold you firmly on the edge of the counter, then pulled out until on the tip remained inside.

“You just beg for my cock, don’t you, baby,” he crooned in a teasing voice, his smirk blooming into a wide grin when you whimpered and squirmed, your heels digging into his ass as you tried to pull him back inside you. “You beg me to fuck you like no other man can, beg me to fill you up with my cum—that’s how you beg, isn’t that right, baby?”

“Yes, daddy, I’m a greedy little slut and I need your cock, Bucky, please,” you whined, squeezing your thighs around Bucky’s waist and trying to pull him closer, wailing softly when he wouldn’t budge.

Bucky chuckled, dropping his head to your shoulder and latching his mouth onto the swell of your breast. He sucked on your skin so hard, you half expected him to leave a huge mark on your body. And you liked it.

He was no doubt leaving a hickey behind while his breath ghosted across your tits, making your nipples pucker and ache for attention. And all you could do was moan and writhe in pleasure, your fingers twisted in his soft hair as you clung to his strong, steady form.

“That’s a good start, baby,” Bucky rumbled condescendingly into your skin, moving to your other breast and beginning to suck a mark into your skin there. Then, he was slamming inside you again, sheathing his cock deep in your tight cunt.

A pleasured scream tore from your lips, bouncing off the tiled walls of the dive bar bathroom, and your thoughts scattered across the dingy floor. It felt so good, and you were so full, stretched around his fat cock, that all you could do was cry and whimper, your hands clinging to Bucky wherever you could reach while he fucked you on the counter.

“That’s it, baby, let me hear you—let me hear how good your boyfriend fucks you,” Bucky growled into your tits, one of his hands leaving your ass to grope your soft mounds, fingers pinching your nipples harshly and turning you into a sobbing mess. “Fuck, you feel so good, you feel so much better now that you’re all fucking mine.”

“All yours,” you moaned mindlessly, rocking your hips on the counter to meet his thrusts, delighting in the perfect way he fucked you—hard and fast. Blistering pleasure was coursing through your body, sending you careening toward your release even as you whimpered pitifully, hoping the ecstasy you felt would never end.

Your fingers curled in Bucky’s soft brown hair and you dragged him to your mouth for a messy, filthy kiss filled with possessiveness and affection and so much more emotion that it made your head spin. When your lips parted, you held Bucky close, your heavy breaths spilling into the minuscule space between your bodies.

“You feel better, too,” you admitted in a panting, breathless voice. Your pussy clenched around Bucky’s cock and he grunted, rutting into you even harder. “You feel so big, daddy, so perfect filling me up. Fuck, I can’t get enough of your cock, Bucky.”

A ruthless slash of a smirk spread across Bucky’s face and his hands dug beneath your ass to hold you right where he wanted you, fucking into your tight hole with a purposeful brutality as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge of your release.

“Now that you’re mine, and this pussy belongs to me, I’m gonna keep you on my cock all the time, baby,” Bucky rumbled, his words filthy and intense in a way that made your pleasure surge higher as he continued.

“I’m gonna make you my perfect little cock sleeve, use your slutty cunt and mouth to keep me warm and get me off whenever I want, and you’re gonna be a good slut for me, aren’t you? Because you’re my girlfriend, huh?”

“Oh fuck, yes, Bucky, use me, use my holes to make you feel good—any time, anywhere. I’ll do anything for you, daddy,” you babbled, the words spilling from your lips as easy as the arousal leaking from your pussy. “Please, Bucky, I’m your girlfriend, I’m your slut, I’m yours.”

“Mine,” Bucky growled, rutting into you, his cock spearing deep into your cunt and hitting a spot that had you seeing stars. You were so far gone, you nearly missed his next words. “And I’m yours, baby, all yours.”

His voice was soft and sweet and your pussy throbbed at the affection in his tone. He hadn’t said the ‘L’ word, but based on the way your body reacted, he might as well have.

Your heart surged with the same emotion, the one you weren’t ready to name, but you could show him and say it another way. Wrapping your hands around the back of Bucky’s neck, you dragged him close for a messy, perfect kiss.

“Mine,” you echoed, claiming him as yours. “You’re all mine, Bucky Barnes.”

Bucky slammed deep inside you, his cock twitching at your words and he groaned, clenching his jaw through a bitten off curse.

“Fuck, ya gotta cum for me, baby,” Bucky rasped, a thread of desperation in his tone.

His thrusts grew more frenzied, grinding his hips into your soft, swollen pussy so your clit rubbed against the base of his cock while he fucked you in short strokes, barely pulling out.

“Cum on your boyfriend’s cock,” he urged, his hand sliding around your body so his thumb could slip between your soaked folds and rub your clit. “Show me how much you love getting fucked by your boyfriend, baby, c’mon, cum on daddy’s cock.”

“Fuck, Bucky, Bucky, Bucky,” you cried, chanting his name as he sent you flailing over the edge. Pleasure crashed over your body, a scream of bliss tearing from your lips. You trembled and shook in Bucky’s arms as you came on his cock, your pussy squeezing tight around his stiff length while your legs hugged his waist desperately.

“Good girl, baby, good girl—such a good girlfriend, cumming so hard on your boyfriend’s cock,” Bucky mumbled, burying himself to the hilt in your pussy and moaning into your neck while he followed you over the edge. His teeth raked over your skin, sinking in briefly as he grunted his pleasure against your throat.

You felt him twitch and throb inside you as he pumped you full of cum, but after just a few strokes, Bucky was pulling out and fisting the base of his cock. The rest of his cum spilled across your swollen, aching pussy, his eyes going dark and possessive as he watched his creamy seed make a mess of you.

It was enough to make your pussy pulse greedily, some of his cum leaking from your hole. Watching Bucky mark you with his cum was hot as hell and you were suddenly craving another round of his cock filling you up, fucking his cum deeper into you.

Bucky groaned as he milked the last drop from his cock and then he was using his hands to rub his cum into your skin, making an even bigger mess as he spread your combined juices around your cunt.

Then he was tucking himself away and zipping up his jeans, pulling out his phone. He took a few photos of your body splayed out on top of John’s jacket on the sinks in the dive bar bathroom, Bucky’s cum and your own wetness glistening between your spread thighs. A lazy smile curled your lips and you grinned up at the camera for Bucky.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, baby,” Bucky murmured once he was satisfied, a devious smirk on his face.

Before you could figure out what he was doing, Bucky grabbed the bottom of John’s jacket and he used the soft leather to clean his cum and your wetness from your well-used pussy. A shiver raced down your spine at the feel of it.

It was so filthy, and so fucking toxic for your boyfriend to use your ex-situationship’s jacket to clean you up, but that only turned you on even more. Renewed desire leaked from your slit, ruining John’s jacket even more.

Moaning while Bucky cleaned you up, you rocked your hips against his hand through the jacket, rubbing your messy pussy against the leather and helping your boyfriend ruin it with your juices. It might’ve been the worst thing you’d ever done to a guy, but you couldn’t stop yourself.

Bucky chuckled, catching your eye and the two of you shared an evil smile. No words needed to be said, both of you were getting off on ruining the leather jacket that belonged to John fucking Walker, and your heart fluttered in your chest at just how perfect Bucky was for you.

Curling your fingers around the back of his neck, you dragged Bucky in for a messy, filthy kiss that was all nipping teeth and searching tongues. But as the kiss went on, it turned soft and sweet. By the time you pulled away, you and Bucky were both grinning at each other, your hearts in your eyes.

In that moment, you really, finally believed that a relationship between the two of you could actually work. Bucky Barnes was like no other man you’d ever met, and you had a sneaking suspicion that was exactly what you needed, just like you were exactly what he needed.

Before Bucky helped you right yourself, he snapped a few more photos of you on top of John’s ruined leather jacket. A deeply satisfied smile curved your lips as you lay back on the counter, your thighs splayed open, your dress pushed up down and pulled down so your tits and cunt were on full display.

When he was satisfied, he passed the phone to you so you could see the photos.

While you looked hot in all of them, you couldn’t help but stare at the expression on Bucky’s face in the mirror. His blue eyes were bright and possessive even in the dim neon light of the bathroom, his mouth curved into a greedy, hungry grin.

You sent your favorites to yourself, then gave the phone back to Bucky, who dropped a kiss to your lips that sent a delightful little spark of excitement through your heart.

Bucky helped you down from the sink counter and tugged off his jacket while you righted your dress. Then he draped the canvas jacket around your shoulders and you slit your arms in the sleeves and hugged it close as he redid his belt. It was so much more comfortable and better fitting than John’s jacket.

Turning your face into the collar, you breathed deeply. Bucky’s scent filled your senses and settled something deep inside you. Your exhale was a sigh of relief. With Bucky’s cum still leaking out of your pussy and his jacket wrapped around your shoulders, everything felt right.

Your eyes fluttered open and you caught Bucky watching you, a small smile curving the corners of his mouth, and a not-so-small amount of affection burning in his gaze. You had half a mind to throw yourself at your boyfriend and fuck him again in the dirty dive bar bathroom—but the unhappy knocking on the door stopped you.

Bucky wrapped his arm possessively around your waist, his other hand grabbing John’s jacket before unlocking the bathroom door and kicking the trash can out of the way.

The two of you strode out into the hallway with your heads held high. Neither of you were ashamed that it was clear what you’d been doing in the bathroom. After all, you were just having some fun with your boyfriend, and Bucky had been having some fun with his girlfriend.

When you approached the table filled with Bucky’s friends, he tossed the leather jacket to John in such a way that the ruined part of the leather wasn’t immediately obvious.

John seemed a bit more sober as he caught the jacket, a confused frown pulling at the edges of his mouth. He looked up to find you tucked into Bucky’s side, wearing Bucky’s jacket, and his face immediately soured.

The look in John’s eyes only grew more mutinous when he noticed the freshly fucked, very satisfied smile on your face.

Idly, you wondered if John noticed that the expression on your face was nothing like how you looked after he’d fucked you. But then you remembered it didn’t matter.

John Walker would never fuck you again—and you didn’t want or need him to. Not when Bucky Barnes was your boyfriend.

Suddenly, it dawned on you that Bucky could go back on his word.

He’d said he was willing to tell all his friends that you were his girlfriend, but that had been while you’d been alone and he’d been trying to get into your pussy. Would he keep his word now that he was faced with all his friends?

Thankfully, Bucky didn’t leave you hanging in uncertainty for very long.

“You’re gonna wanna get that dry-cleaned, Walker,” Bucky said casually, tugging you even closer to his side, his hand splaying wide and possessively over your hip.

Everyone else at the table was silent, shamelessly watching the interaction between Bucky and John. Meanwhile, John’s eyes bounced between you and his so-called friend, confusion creasing his brow. But before he could speak, Bucky was clapping his free hand on John’s shoulder, shooting him an arrogant smirk.

“You can send me the bill.” Then Bucky leaned into John, as if to tell him something in confidence, but kept his voice loud so the whole table could hear. “And I want you to be the first to know, my girl’s officially done with you.”

Bucky pulled you around to his front, and you tipped your head back so he could press a kiss to your lips. In front of all his friends, Bucky slipped his tongue into your mouth, kissing you deeply, possessively, before turning back to John.

“She’s my girlfriend now, so lose her fucking number.”

At Bucky’s declaration, John’s face crumpled in disappointment and devastation. A very small part of you felt bad for him, but then you remembered how he’d treated you earlier that evening, how he was a little too pushy, and even that small bit of pity evaporated.

When John looked at you, you gave him a remorseless shrug and turned your attention to Bucky, effectively dismissing your ex-fuck buddy. Looking at Bucky, you couldn’t help but smile at how much happier you were with him than you’d ever been in John’s presence.

“You still owe me a drink, boyfriend,” you murmured teasingly, reaching up and raking your nails over his scruffy jaw, turning his face to look at you.

A huge grin spread across Bucky’s face and he tugged you impossibly closer, until your body was plastered against his and wrapped around him to a nearly obscene extent.

“You’re right, baby, let’s go,” he murmured, kissing you again with an indecent amount of tongue, before tugging you away from the table and leading you to the bar.

You practically collapsed against Bucky’s chest as you walked, snickering at the look on John’s face while Bucky muffled his own laughter in your hair. It was only his arm wrapped firmly around your waist that kept you upright as you maneuvered through the other tables and chairs.

Halfway to the bar, you heard a disgusted shout behind you. Both you and Bucky stopped to look back at the table you’d just left.

John was standing up, holding his jacket at arm’s length, his eyes staring at the parts of the garment that Bucky had used to clean you up. John held his hand to his mouth, pressing against his lips like he was trying to stop himself from being sick.

It took every ounce of your self-control not to tip your head back and cackle your amusement for the entire bar to hear. Instead, you buried your face in Bucky’s shoulder, and let your mirth spill out of you in muffled snorts and giggles.

For his part, your boyfriend was doing his best to stifle his laughter as well, his fist pressed to his mouth and his teeth sinking into his finger to bite back his evil amusement. Together, you held each other up as your bodies shook with your barely restrained laughter.

“Did that make you feel better?” you asked, your voice still shaking with mirth as you collected yourself and began heading toward the bar again, Bucky’s hand never leaving your waist as he trailed behind you.

You found an open spot between a couple groups and leaned a hip against the sturdy bartop, facing Bucky as he slid in beside you.

Before responding, Bucky flagged down the bartender, a different one from earlier, who made quick work of taking his order. Bucky asked for a beer for himself, and the drink you’d asked him for when you’d first gotten to the dive bar. Then he waited until the bartender moved away before answering your question.

“It did,” Bucky said smugly, his hands falling to your hips and pulling your soft body flush against his hard chest. His arms wrapped around your waist beneath his jacket, fingers idly stroking your spine through your dress.

You’d just circled your arms around Bucky’s shoulders and were leaning in for a kiss when movement out of the corner of your eye caught your attention.

John Walker stormed past, throwing a glare at Bucky before making a show of forcing his jacket into the garbage can by the door and shoving outside. He left in a huff, Lemar Hoskins following on his heels to make sure he got home safe.

Once they were gone, you tipped your head back and finally let out your evil cackle, tears gathering in your eyes while Bucky laughed just as loudly.

The sound of his callous triumph reverberated through you everywhere you were pressed together, and it sent tingles of pleasure spiraling through your body.

Suddenly, you were very aware that you were no longer wearing panties—since they were still tucked into Bucky’s back pocket—and you could feel your desire leaking from your slit. You pressed your thighs together to try to stop it from dripping any further.

Bucky caught your eye as you both calmed down, and something seemed to pass between the two of you—an understanding, an acceptance of even the worst parts of yourselves. Not for the first time, you thought that Bucky was like no other man you’d ever met, and you were excited to see what havoc you could wreak on the world. Together.

The meaningful moment you were sharing with Bucky was cut too short when Sharon fucking Carter appeared at your boyfriend’s shoulder, her fingers curling around his bare bicep to get his attention.

Your gaze zeroed in on where Sharon was touching your man, a red haze of fury falling over your vision as you tensed, your arms wrapping more tightly around Bucky’s neck.

“Hey Buck, we got cut off earlier. I didn’t get to finish telling you about the ridiculous project Ross has me working on,” Sharon said, seemingly oblivious of the way you and Bucky were wrapped around each other.

Just then, the bartender returned with your drinks, and Bucky used the opportunity to shake off Sharon’s hand. Turning to the bar, he slid some bills across the hardwood then grabbed your drink and handed it to you before picking up his beer.

“Not now, Sharon, I’m with my girlfriend,” Bucky said dismissively, his eyes never leaving your face as he watched you take a sip of your drink. “And for future reference, I don’t give a shit about any projects Ross has you working on, or whether Nat’s giving you a hard time. Bother Sam with your bullshit.”

You took another sip of your drink, that time hiding your evil smile as Sharon huffed in annoyance. But when Bucky only kept his attention fixed firmly on you, she whirled around and walked away, taking her annoying, grating voice with her.

A sense of satisfaction spread warmly in your chest and you moved your drink out of the way so you could grin up at your boyfriend. Pushing yourself against his chest, you captured his lips in a kiss, licking into his mouth in reward for sending Sharon Carter away.

“How about you, baby, did that make you feel better?” Bucky murmured in your ear before pulling away to take a sip of his beer, watching you the whole time.

It was intoxicating to have Bucky’s full attention, to know that he was your boyfriend and you were his girlfriend, and you didn’t need to suffer through the company of John Walker or Sharon Carter anymore. That realization was so delightful, you almost forgot to answer Bucky’s question.

“It did,” you said, letting Bucky see your evil smirk before you leaned in and pressed another kiss to his mouth. You trailed kisses along his jaw until your lips were close to his ear. “Finish your drink fast, I want you to take me home and fuck me like no other man can, Bucky.”

You could feel Bucky’s bulge grow against your soft belly, but he only chuckled at your words. Then he led you back to the table and sat down with his friends, holding you close with his arm around your shoulders and his legs tangled with yours as you enjoyed the company of his friends for a little while.

When he finished his beer and you’d downed the last of your drink, you and Bucky said goodbye to his friends and he took you back to his place. There, he fucked you again, like no other man ever had, claiming you as his girlfriend while you claimed him as your boyfriend. Finally.

you ain't my boyfriend and i ain't your girlfriend series masterlist

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ghostofbrock · 7 hours ago

Text

DC au -

Moodboards:

Batman!Matt moodboard

Catwoman!Reader moodboard

Joker!Chris moodboard

Harley Quinn!Reader moodboard

Robin!Nick moodboard

Series:

Blood in the Shadows (Part 1 Robin!Nick's POV)

Blood in the Shadows (Part 2) coming soon...

Blurbs: (actually happen but not in the same order as the series)

Batman!Matt x Catwoman!Reader

"Jailbreak, Baby"

Joker!Chris x Harley Quinn!Reader

Asks: (don't go along with the actual plot)

Joker!Chris and Batman!Matt go to a carnival???

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ghostofbrock · 7 hours ago

Text

Take it ────── „Matt Sturniolo

@chrisspirategirl

IN WHICH (👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨)… nerd!matt can’t seem to control himself when he’s around IT girl!reader

WARNINGS: hard sex (f!receiving), unprotected p in v DO NOT DO THIS ALWAYS BE PROTECTED!, pet names, eating out, basically all that smut shit!

“I can’t feel my face when I’m with you. But I love it, but I love it.”

The room was dimly lit, shadows flickers across the walls of the bedroom as the city buzzed outside. But in here, the air was thick—warm, close, electric.

You had invited Matt over to help you study for an upcoming exam in one of your guys’s classes, Matt was quick to agree because truthfully he could never say no to you. He saw it as an opportunity to be closer to you, privately that is.

Only 30 minutes into this so called session which was just you sitting beside him looking so gorgeous and Matt struggling to even breathe—he finds himself picturing you on top of him and this heavy ass text book scattered on the ground.

He gently takes the textbook from you not able to bare the pain throbbing in his cock. Pre cum was oozing from his swollen tip, begging to be released painting the inside of his jeans and boxers. He needed you in a way that made him look too desperate to even ask for you to have sex with him. But he needed to bury himself inside of you in the next 4 minutes or he’d seriously be dead.

You look over at him with a look of confusion, perhaps he’s struggling to read the words??

“You’ve been doing so good, let’s take a break yeah?” He spoke his voice was raw like he desperately needed something but you couldn’t put your finger on it.

“Yeah alright, did you want some water?”

He only shakes his head no, his tongue sweeps across his bottom lip as he holds eye contact with you for a good few seconds before looking down at his lap then back up to seal that little spark once more. “No but there is something else I want” is all he said, his hand hovered over your waist not quite touching but just close enough for you to feel the warmth of his touch.

He didn’t touch you right away, just traced your figure with his eyes like he was memorizing every curve of yours, practically stripping you naked. And when his fingers slipped under your shirt finally brushing against your skin goosebumps were quick to form.

“So soft” he hummed softly rubbing the tips of his fingers against your flesh arousing your core. His simple touch had you dripping.

“I need to be inside you so badly, y/n.”

“I need to feel my dick stretch you out”

His pleas only made you more soaked than before, panties were sopping wet.

You didn’t say yes or no, didn’t need to when that look in your eyes gave him the answer he wanted. In a matter of seconds his mouth is on yours firmly pushing you down into your mattress ripping off your clothes and throwing it aside, his was off soon after.

His cock was hard—thick, veiny, already dripping at the tip, strained for you and you only.

His hand wraps around himself dragging it down against your pussy, teasingly rubbing it up and down against your slit. Breathless moans falling out from your pouty lips as you looked up at him with lust laced eyes, ones that read ‘fuck me’. Matt noticed this quickly and wasted no time in giving you what you wanted.

You felt every inch of him sink inside you, a small groan rumbled through his chest at the sensation of your gummy walls clinging onto him deliciously. His pace was slow, steady at first, “you okay?” He asked huskily you nodded your head pulling him into you closer earning a shaky breath from him he didn’t know he was holding onto.

“Fuck—you feel so fucking good” he whispered keeping that same slow pace that was both torturous yet pleasing.

“Matt” you whined as your hips grinned against his trying to get more friction from him, “what is it baby?” He coos leaning down to ghost his lips against yours electrifying the moment even more.

“Please… faster” you gasped, nails digging into his back as your hips grinned against his once again.

“Can you handle it faster mama?” He teased hooking his hand under one of your thighs to change the angle pounding inside of you harshly not letting you answer his question only obeying your request.

“Ohh—f-fuck..” you moaned

“Right there? You feel it, feel me fucking you?” He taunted hitting your cervix with brutal force bruising it by this point but the feeling was so good you begged for more.

Tits bouncing pretty little whimpers leaving your lips every now and then, exactly what Matt pictured for the longest time.

“You take me so well baby, makes me wanna ruin you.”

“Fuck fuck—don’t stop, right there Matt please!” Your begging only fueled his desire to fuck you faster til you forgot your own name, til your pussy was drenched with his cum to the point it drips out.

“You feel that?” He coos leaning down to place sloppy kisses around your perky breasts, “all this just for you, you make me so fucking hard I just want to fuck you over and over again.”

Your fingers trail down from his back to the bedsheets gripping them painfully tight your knuckles turn white. He senses the small shake of your legs knowing you’re close. He takes the opportunity to quickly pull out leaning down to feast on your swollen cunt.

His tongue circled your clit with practiced precision, fast and messy, his face slick with your arousal as he moaned like he couldn’t get enough of you. He licked, sucked and fucked you either his mouth—eating like the starved man he was for your pussy, your thighs slowly began closing in on his head, pathetic moans slipping from your half open mouth grinding against his face to get more of him on you. He’s not fazed by your sudden eagerness he only grips tightly onto your thighs spreading them harshly apart and kept going.

His tongue by now buried deep into your pussy and his nose nudging against your swollen clit erupting broken moans from you, his name is all that can be heard.

Your voiced cracked between moans trying to form words “d-don’t slow down p-please.. I want it all”

He chuckled against your pussy giving it a final kiss before lifting back up his head to look down at you, your juices coating his face. He only looked good with your juices on his face.

He quickly shoved himself back inside of you tip kissing your g spot perfectly, you cried out as he bottomed out, the blunt head of his cock repeatedly knocking into your cervix with a delicious kind of pain had you seeing stars. Your walls closed in on him tightly earning shaky moans as he moaned how good you felt around him.

“Can’t get enough of this pussy.”

“Oh—yes fuck, right there please.”

“Yeah? Here? You love feeling my dick inside of you baby?”

“Mhm, I’m so close Matt..”

“You gonna make a mess on my dick?”

He watched as his cock pumped in and out of your your needy moans filling the background only exciting him as every thrust earned a more desperate response, with his final few thrusts he pulls out quickly pumping his dick as his cum splattered all over your stomach, both of you left breathless.

“I had no idea you’d be so good in bed” you let out still trying to catch your breath.

He lets out a low chuckle trailing kisses up your neck til he reaches your lips letting you taste yourself off his tongue, “only for you would I ever be this rough in bed.”

Gimme that gimme that gimme that gimme that gimme that gimme that gimme that gimme that. Not proofread once again because I’m lazy 💔💔

Dividers —> @bernardsbendystraws

Tags ��️: @courta13 & @heartsonlyforchris

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ghostofbrock · 7 hours ago

Text

ITS THE WEED

Loser!Matt X Popular!Reader

Warnings) Smut w plot. Ice cube play (idk how to explain it). not established relationship.

—

You and Matt were supposed to have a “you day.” You even texted him that morning:

you: “can we hangout allllllll day?”

You already knew the face he made when he replied. Probably rolled his eyes, scoffing like he was annoyed even though you both knew he wasn’t.

matt: “nah. i think i’m gonna get high just chill.”

You stared at the screen for a second, your chest tightening in that stupid way it always did when he blew you off.

you: “k. wtv. i thought maybe you would wanna hangout with me but it’s fine.”

He stared at your message longer than he’d admit. Then, with a heavy sigh, he typed back:

matt: “otw.”

Twenty minutes later, he walked in through the front door like he always did, barely sparing a glance at your yelling parents in the background.

“Hey,” he said casually, dropping his bag on the floor as his eyes flicked up to your face. “No makeup?”

You shook your head and crossed your arms. “Call me ugly already, it’s fine.”

Matt raised a brow and set his stuff down on the table. “Chill. I didn’t say that. I was just asking.” Then, softer, “You look fine.”

You rolled your eyes, pretending not to feel the small flip in your stomach.

He unzipped a small pouch and started laying out his rolling papers and grinder, pulling the jar of weed from his bag. You walked over without thinking, and before he could say anything, you were climbing onto his lap, straddling his thigh and leaning in to watch what he was doing.

He tensed slightly but didn’t move. Just looked at you out the corner of his eye. “Comfortable?”

You rested your chin on his shoulder, peeking at the way his fingers moved skillfully over the paper. “Kinda.”

Your thighs pressed tighter around his as you adjusted, trying not to squirm—but you already felt too warm. Too aware of how close you were. His jeans rough against the soft skin of your inner thighs.

Matt didn’t say anything.

But he noticed.

He kept rolling slowly, licking the edge of the paper before sealing it and setting it down. You were still on his lap, still pressing against him every few seconds like you couldn’t help it.

He exhaled slowly through his nose, pretending not to look at how your fingers gripped his hoodie or how your thighs kept shifting against him. But he definitely noticed.

Still didn’t say anything.

But the corner of his mouth twitched—just barely.

Like he knew exactly what you were doing.

And he was gonna let you keep doing it.

NOW

You were tucked into Matt’s side, still sitting on his thigh, your legs draped over his as he lit the joint. The room smelled like him—woodsy cologne and faint weed—and the soft bass of a playlist you’d made was playing from your speaker in the background.

Matt leaned back against the headboard, exhaling slowly as he passed it to you.

“Here,” he said, voice low, calm. “Just a little. Don’t overthink it.”

You looked up at him nervously. “If I cough and die, it’s your fault.”

He smirked, lazily. “I’ll give a real sad eulogy. Promise.”

You rolled your eyes and took a small hit, trying to do it exactly how he showed you. But the second it hit your throat, you choked on the harsh burn, doubling over in a fit of coughs.

“Shit—” you wheezed, eyes watering, clutching your chest. “Matt, I hate you.”

Matt’s smirk dropped. “Alright, drama queen,” he mumbled, but he was already getting up, brushing your thigh gently as he stood. “Stay there.”

He came back not even a minute later with a glass of iced water, condensation dripping down the side. He handed it to you and knelt beside the bed, watching you carefully. “Sip slow.”

You took the glass, still coughing but grateful. “Thanks,” you muttered, voice raspy.

He stayed crouched there for a moment, looking up at you. “You good?”

You nodded, and he climbed back into bed beside you, arm wrapping around your waist like before. You scooted close again, this time with no hesitation, letting the warmth of him settle you.

“I feel weird,” you mumbled after a bit, voice still hoarse. “Floaty. Like I’m gonna melt.”

“You’re just high,” he said, voice soft, calm again. “Relax. You’re fine.”

You laid your head on his shoulder, the haze settling in like a heavy blanket. His fingers started tracing lazy shapes on your thigh, and you felt your legs tense. Your thighs pressed together, a slow, subtle reaction you couldn’t stop—and Matt noticed. You knew he did. But he didn’t say anything.

You peeked up at him. “Matt…”

“Yeah?”

“…you’re warm.”

He looked down at you with a lazy half-smile. “That’s what you’re going with?”

You shrugged, nestling closer. “Shut up.”

His hand moved again—this time over your thigh, the touch light, comforting. You didn’t move away.

“You’re really pretty when you’re not trying so hard,” he said after a long pause, voice low.

You blinked up at him, blinking slowly. “So I’m not pretty when I do?”

He smirked again. “Didn’t say that. Just… like this. No makeup, no fake laugh, no trying to prove anything. Just you.”

You didn’t answer. Your fingers found the fabric of his hoodie and curled there, holding onto it gently. His fingers kept moving, grazing slow across your thigh, and your breath caught for just a second—but you didn’t move.

Neither did he.

Your fingers stayed curled in the fabric of Matt’s hoodie, anchoring you as the haze of the weed deepened, wrapping your senses in a soft, heavy fog. The room felt smaller now, the air thick with his scent—woodsy cologne, faint weed, and something distinctly him. The playlist’s low bass thrummed in the background, syncing with the slow, steady rhythm of your heartbeat.

Matt’s hand on your thigh hadn’t stopped moving, but now his touch expanded, exploratory yet maddeningly light. His fingers trailed up your thigh, skimming over the sensitive skin before drifting to your hip, then along the curve of your waist. They brushed the exposed sliver of skin where your shirt had ridden up, sending a faint jolt through you. His touch wandered further—down your arm, across the back of your hand, then back up to the nape of your neck, where his fingertips grazed the soft hairline. Every movement was slow, deliberate, like he was mapping you out, testing your reaction without ever crossing into something more.

You felt it everywhere. The warmth in your core sparked and spread, a low, pulsing ache that made your thighs press together instinctively. Your breath grew shallower, and you tried to stay still, to act like his touch wasn’t unraveling you. But your body betrayed you—the subtle shift of your hips, the way your fingers tightened on his hoodie, the faint heat creeping up your neck. You didn’t dare meet his eyes, afraid he’d see the need written all over your face.

Matt noticed. You could tell by the way his fingers paused, just for a heartbeat, before continuing their lazy path across your skin. His breathing stayed even, but there was a shift in his posture—a slight tension, like he was hyper-aware of you now. His hand slid back to your thigh, higher this time, his thumb brushing the sensitive inner seam of your jeans, and a soft, involuntary whimper caught in your throat. You clamped your lips shut, praying he hadn’t heard it.

But the faint curl of his lips told you he had. He didn’t say anything, though. Didn’t push. Just kept up that slow, torturous touch—fingers grazing your lower back now, then skimming along your side again, each brush stoking the fire building inside you. He was waiting, you realized, giving you space to make the next move, to say something, anything, to break the unspoken tension hanging between you.

Your head was still resting on his shoulder, and you shifted slightly, pressing yourself closer, your legs shifting restlessly against his. The ache was unbearable now, and every nerve in your body was screaming for more, for him to do something, but you couldn’t find the words. Not yet. Your fingers dug into his hoodie, and you let out a shaky breath, hoping it sounded casual.

“Matt…” you murmured, voice barely above a whisper, testing the waters but not quite ready to dive in.

“Yeah?” His voice was low, calm, but there was an edge to it, like he was holding back.

You swallowed, heart pounding. “…You’re making it hard to think.”

His fingers stilled for a moment, resting lightly on your hip. He tilted his head slightly, looking down at you with that lazy half-smile, eyes darker now, searching yours. “That so?” he said softly, teasing but gentle. “You want me to stop?”

Your breath caught. You shook your head, just barely, cheeks burning. “No.”

His smirk deepened, but he didn’t move, didn’t escalate. His fingers resumed their slow, feather-light tracing, this time along the edge of your waistband, and you felt like you might combust. He was waiting for you to say more, to give him the green light, and the ball was firmly in your court.

Your breath hitched, the weight of Matt’s fingers still lingering on your waistband, each subtle brush of his touch sending sparks through you. The haze of the weed had you floating, amplifying every sensation—the warmth of his body against yours, the faint thrum of the playlist, the way his scent seemed to wrap around you. Your fingers, still curled tightly in his hoodie, trembled slightly as the ache inside you grew impossible to ignore.

You shifted closer, your legs brushing against his, and without overthinking it, you tilted your head, letting your lips graze the side of his neck. The touch was soft, tentative, a gentle kiss pressed just below his jaw. His skin was warm, slightly rough with the faintest hint of stubble, and you felt him tense under you, a quiet hitch in his breath.

Another kiss, slower this time, a little bolder, trailing up toward his pulse point. Your lips lingered, soft and deliberate, and you heard the low rumble of a laugh escape him—a warm, surprised sound that vibrated against your mouth.

“Bold move,” he murmured, voice low and laced with amusement, his head tilting slightly to give you more access, though you could tell he was still holding back, letting you set the pace.

You smiled against his skin, heart racing, and pressed another kiss, this one teasingly close to his earlobe. “You’re still warm,” you whispered, echoing your earlier words, your voice soft but carrying a playful edge.

Matt’s laugh came again, quieter now, more like a hum, and his hand tightened briefly on your hip, fingers digging in just enough to make you hyper-aware of his touch. “You’re trouble,” he said, but there was no bite to it—just that lazy, teasing tone that made your stomach flip.

You pulled back slightly, just enough to meet his eyes, your face inches from his. His gaze was darker now, heavy-lidded, the smirk still tugging at his lips but softened by something else—something careful, like he was still waiting for your signal. Your cheeks were burning, but the haze and the pull of him made you bold, made you want to push just a little further.

“You didn’t tell me to stop,” you said, voice barely above a whisper, your lips hovering near his jaw again, close enough to feel the warmth of his breath.

His smirk widened, and his hand slid up your side, slow and deliberate, fingers splaying across your ribcage. “Didn’t plan to,” he said, voice dropping lower, rougher now. “But you’re gonna have to say what you want, sweetheart.”

The nickname hit you like a spark, fanning the heat in your core. Your breath caught, and you leaned in again, lips brushing his neck once more, this time with a little more pressure, a little more intent. You felt him shift beneath you, his thigh pressing against yours, and the subtle movement sent a shiver up your spine.

“Matt…” you murmured, your lips grazing his skin as you spoke, not quite a question, not quite a plea, but enough to make his fingers twitch against your side.

He tilted his head, giving you a better angle, but his voice stayed steady, teasing. “Yeah? Use your words.”

You huffed softly, half-embarrassed, half-frustrated, and nipped lightly at his neck in retaliation, earning another low laugh from him. His hand slid to your lower back now, pulling you closer, your body pressed snugly against his. The shift made you hyper-aware of every point of contact—the heat of his chest, the firmness of his thigh under you, the way his fingers seemed to burn through your shirt.

“I want…” you started, but the words caught in your throat, your courage faltering under the weight of his gaze. You kissed his neck again instead, slower, letting your lips linger, hoping he’d take the hint.

Matt’s fingers traced a slow path up your spine, and he hummed, the sound vibrating under your lips. “with a hint of challenge in his tone. “You’re killing me here,” he said, but there was no mistaking the heat in his voice, the way he was letting you lead but meeting you halfway. “You gonna make me guess what you want, or you gonna tell me?”

His hand slid to your thigh again, higher now, his thumb brushing just close enough to the seam of your jeans to make your breath hitch. You felt the tension coiling tighter, the air between you electric, but he still didn’t push, didn’t cross that final line. He was waiting, patient but not passive, his touch a quiet challenge daring you to speak up.

Your lips lingered on Matt’s neck, the taste of his skin and the faint pulse beneath making your head spin. The weed’s haze had you teetering on the edge, every touch amplified, every breath heavy with want. His fingers, still tracing slow, deliberate paths along your thigh and spine, were driving you crazy, and the tension between you felt like it might snap. You pressed another kiss to his jaw, softer this time, but the ache in your core was unbearable now, a desperate need you couldn’t ignore.

A soft whine slipped from your lips, low and needy, as you shifted restlessly against him, your thighs squeezing together. “Matt…” you breathed, the sound almost a plea, your voice trembling with frustration and want.

His fingers stilled, and for a moment, you thought he’d tease you again, make you beg for it. But then you felt his body shift, his hand tightening on your hip as he let out a quiet, “Fuck, you’re gonna kill me with that.”

Before you could process his words, Matt moved. His hands slid to your waist, firm but gentle, and in one smooth motion, he shifted you off his lap and onto the bed, your back sinking into the soft mattress. He hovered over you, one knee braced between your legs, his eyes dark and heavy as they searched yours. The smirk was gone, replaced by something intense, almost reverent.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice low and rough. “I got you.”

He leaned down, his lips brushing your collarbone first, soft and deliberate, sending a shiver through you. His kisses were slow, unhurried, as he worked his way across your skin—down the curve of your neck, along the dip of your shoulder, then back to the sensitive spot just below your ear. Each kiss was gentle, but there was a weight to them, like he was savoring every inch of you. His hands followed, sliding under your shirt to graze your sides, his touch warm and grounding.

You squirmed beneath him, the ache in your core flaring hotter with every kiss, every brush of his lips. Your breath came in shallow gasps, and another soft whine escaped you as his mouth found the hollow of your throat, lingering there with a slow, open-mouthed kiss. “Matt…” you whimpered, your hands finding his shoulders, fingers digging into the fabric of his hoodie as you arched slightly toward him.

“Shh,” he murmured against your skin, his voice a soothing hum. “I’m right here.” His lips moved lower, kissing the exposed skin of your stomach where your shirt had ridden up, his breath warm and teasing. His hands slid to your hips, thumbs brushing just beneath the waistband of your jeans, and the sensation made your legs tremble.

You were needier now, the slow burn of his kisses only stoking the fire, not easing it. Your hips shifted instinctively, seeking more, and you tugged at his hoodie, a silent plea for him to do something, anything, to ease the ache. “Matt, please…” you whined again, your voice breaking, raw with want.

He paused, lifting his head to look at you, his eyes dark but soft, taking in your flushed cheeks and heavy breaths. “God, you’re beautiful like this,” he said, almost to himself, before leaning down to kiss you properly this time—his lips on yours, gentle but firm, tasting faintly of weed and mint. The kiss was slow, deliberate, but it sent a rush of heat through you, making you arch into him, your hands sliding into his hair.

When he pulled back, his lips brushed down your jaw again, then back to your neck, your collarbone, kissing every inch he could reach. His hands stayed steady, one sliding up to cup your side, the other gripping your hip to keep you grounded. But it wasn’t enough—you felt like you were unraveling, the need coiling tighter with every soft kiss, every teasing brush of his fingers.

“More…” you mumbled, barely coherent, your voice a needy whimper as you tugged at him again, hips lifting slightly off the bed.

Matt let out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating against your skin as he kissed the curve of your ribs. “Greedy,” he teased, but his voice was thick, and his grip on your hip tightened, betraying his own restraint slipping. He didn’t push further, though, still keeping his touches soft, his lips worshipful, waiting for you to set the pace, to tell him exactly how far you wanted this to go.

Matt’s lips were still tracing slow, reverent kisses across your skin, each one sending shivers racing through you. His mouth lingered at the curve of your collarbone, then dipped lower, brushing the sensitive skin just above your stomach. The weed’s haze amplified everything—the warmth of his breath, the graze of his fingers along your sides, the way his touch seemed to burn through your clothes. Your body was a live wire, every nerve humming with need, and the ache in your core was so intense it was almost painful.

You whimpered again, a soft, desperate sound, your fingers tugging at his hoodie as you arched beneath him. “Matt, please…” you breathed, voice trembling, barely holding together.

He lifted his head, eyes dark and heavy as they met yours, a flicker of amusement mixing with the heat in his gaze. “So needy,” he murmured, voice low and rough, but there was no mockery in it—just a quiet awe, like he was seeing you in a new light.

Then, without warning, he shifted, pressing his knee forward, slotting it firmly between your legs. The pressure hit your core, right where you needed it most, and a sharp, involuntary whimper tore from your throat. The sensation was electric, a jolt of relief and torment all at once, and your hips bucked instinctively, chasing more. Your thighs clamped around his knee, trying to hold him there, but the movement only made you squirm harder, the friction sending sparks through your already fraying nerves.

“Fuck,” you gasped, voice barely coherent, your hands flying to his shoulders, fingers digging into the muscle beneath his hoodie. Your body moved on its own, grinding faintly against his knee, desperate for more, but it wasn’t enough—not nearly enough.

Matt’s breath hitched, and you felt his grip on your hip tighten, his fingers digging in just enough to keep you grounded. He didn’t pull back, didn’t ease up, keeping his knee pressed firmly against you as he watched your reaction, eyes flickering with something darker, hungrier. “That what you needed?” he asked, voice a low rumble, teasing but laced with tension, like he was barely holding himself back.

You couldn’t answer, not with words. Another whine slipped out as you squirmed again, your hips rolling against his knee, the pressure sending waves of heat through you. Your head tipped back, exposing your throat, and Matt took the invitation, leaning down to kiss the sensitive skin there, his lips soft but deliberate. His kisses trailed lower, brushing the dip of your neck, then back up to your jaw, each one stoking the fire in your core.

His knee shifted slightly, pressing harder, and you moaned softly, the sound raw and unfiltered. Your fingers slid into his hair, tugging lightly, and you felt him groan against your skin, the vibration making you tremble. “Matt…” you whimpered, your body a mess of need, squirming relentlessly now, chasing the friction, the relief, anything to ease the ache.

“God, you’re killing me,” he muttered, his voice rougher now, his lips brushing your collarbone again as his hand slid up your side, thumb grazing just beneath your bra. He didn’t push further, though, still keeping that careful balance, his knee a steady, torturous pressure against your core. He was giving you just enough to drive you wild but not enough to tip you over the edge, waiting for you to ask for more, to set the pace.

Your hips bucked again, harder this time, and another desperate whimper escaped you, your nails digging into his shoulder. The need was overwhelming now, consuming, and every kiss, every shift of his knee, made you feel like you might unravel completely.

Matt’s knee stayed pressed against your core, the steady pressure driving you to the edge of sanity as you squirmed beneath him, whimpering with every subtle shift. His lips were still on your neck, kissing slow and deliberate, each touch sending fresh waves of heat through you. The haze of the weed made every sensation sharper, your body a live wire under his hands. Your fingers clung to his hoodie, tugging desperately, and your hips rolled against his knee, chasing relief that stayed just out of reach.

“Matt…” you whined again, voice breaking, raw with need. The sound seemed to snap something in him, his grip on your hip tightening as he pulled back slightly, eyes dark and searching yours.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice low and gravelly, thick with want. “Let’s take care of you.”

His hands moved to the hem of your shirt, fingers brushing your skin as he looked at you, silently checking in. You nodded, breathless, and he tugged the shirt up and over your head, tossing it aside. His gaze flickered over you, lingering on the soft curve of your bra, and you felt your cheeks burn under the intensity of his stare. His hands slid to the waistband of your jeans next, deftly unbuttoning them, and you lifted your hips to help as he peeled them off, leaving you in just your bra and panties.

Matt’s breath hitched, his eyes raking over you, dark and reverent, like he was seeing something sacred. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, almost to himself. “You’re gorgeous.”

You squirmed under his gaze, the cool air hitting your bare skin only amplifying the ache in your core. Your hands reached for him, tugging at his hoodie, but he caught your wrists gently, pinning them above your head with one hand. “Not yet,” he teased, a smirk tugging at his lips, though his voice was strained, betraying his own slipping control.

His free hand reached for the glass of iced water still sitting on the bedside table, the condensation dripping down its side. He fished out an ice cube, holding it between his fingers, and your eyes widened, breath catching as you realized what he was about to do. “Matt—” you started, but the words dissolved into a gasp as he brought the ice cube to your collarbone, the cold shock making you arch off the bed.

“Shh,” he murmured, voice soothing but commanding, his lips brushing your jaw as he dragged the ice slowly across your skin. The contrast of the freezing cube against your overheated body was overwhelming, a sharp, delicious sting that made you tremble. He trailed it down the center of your chest, between the swell of your breasts, watching your reaction with a focus that made your core throb.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, your hips bucking instinctively as the ice slid lower, over the soft skin of your stomach. The cold left a wet trail, and Matt followed it with his lips, kissing the chilled skin, his warm breath a maddening contrast. Your hands strained against his grip, desperate to touch him, but he held them firm, his control unwavering.

He moved the ice to the edge of your bra, teasing along the lace, and you moaned softly, the sound raw and needy. Your body was a mess of sensation—the cold, the heat of his mouth, the ache between your thighs growing unbearable. He dragged the ice across your ribcage, then up to the sensitive skin just below your navel, and you squirmed harder, thighs pressing together as the need coiled tighter.

“Matt, please…” you whined, voice trembling, your body arching toward him, begging for more. The ice was melting now, dripping cold water onto your skin, and he let it linger at the waistband of your panties, the chill sending a jolt straight to your core.

He chuckled softly, the sound low and teasing, as he kissed the wet trail on your stomach. “So impatient,” he murmured, but his hand finally released your wrists, sliding down to grip your hip instead. The ice cube was nearly gone, but he pressed what was left against the sensitive skin just above your panties, making you gasp and buck again.

You were needier than ever, the cold and his slow, deliberate touches driving you to the brink. Your hands flew to his hair, tugging lightly, and you arched into him, whimpering as the ache in your core pulsed harder. “Matt, I can’t…” you mumbled, voice barely coherent, desperate for him to do something, anything, to ease the torment.

He looked up at you, eyes dark with want, the smirk softening into something almost tender. “I’ve got you,” he said, voice rough but steady, as he tossed the remnants of the ice aside and leaned down to kiss your stomach again, slow and worshipful, his hands sliding up your thighs, teasing but not quite giving you what you craved.

Matt’s kisses lingered on your stomach, soft and deliberate, each one stoking the fire in your core as the remnants of the ice cube’s chill faded into your overheated skin. The haze of the weed made every touch feel electric, your body trembling with need as his hands gripped your thighs, thumbs brushing teasingly close to the edge of your panties. Your breath came in shallow gasps, your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging lightly as you squirmed beneath him, the ache between your legs unbearable.

“Matt…” you whimpered, voice raw and pleading, your hips shifting restlessly, seeking more. The sound seemed to spark something in him, his eyes darkening as he looked up at you, the tenderness in his gaze now laced with something hungrier.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice low and rough, thick with restraint. His hands slid up your thighs, fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties. He paused, eyes flicking to yours, silently checking in. You nodded, breathless, heart pounding, and he tugged the fabric down slowly, peeling it off and tossing it aside, leaving you bare beneath him except for your bra.

The cool air hit your exposed skin, and you shivered, but it was Matt’s gaze—dark, reverent, almost possessive—that made your breath catch. He reached for the glass of iced water again, fishing out another ice cube, and your eyes widened, a mix of anticipation and nerves fluttering in your chest. “Matt—” you started, but the words dissolved into a sharp gasp as he brought the ice cube to your inner thigh, the cold shock sending a jolt through you.

“Shh,” he soothed, his free hand gripping your hip to keep you steady, his lips brushing the sensitive skin just above your navel. “Just relax.”

He dragged the ice slowly up your thigh, closer to your core, and you trembled, your legs parting instinctively as the anticipation built. Then, with a deliberate, torturous slowness, he pressed the ice cube against your folds, the freezing touch on your heated skin making you cry out softly, a mix of shock and pleasure. Your hips bucked, but Matt’s hand on your hip held you firm, grounding you as he moved the ice, gliding it gently over your slick folds.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, voice trembling, your head tipping back as the cold sent waves of sensation through you. The ice was unrelenting, a sharp contrast to the heat pooling inside you, and when he guided it to your clit, circling slowly, you moaned, loud and unfiltered, your hands clutching the sheets. The pleasure was intense, almost too much, every nerve in your body lit up as you squirmed beneath him, torn between pulling away and pressing closer.

Matt watched you, eyes locked on your face, drinking in every reaction. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, voice rough, almost reverent, as he leaned down to kiss the inside of your thigh, his warm breath a maddening contrast to the ice. The cube was melting now, dripping cold water onto your skin, mixing with your own slickness, and he kept moving it, slow and deliberate, teasing your clit before sliding it back down your folds.

Your thighs trembled, and another desperate whimper escaped you, your hips rolling against his hand, chasing the sensation even as it overwhelmed you. “Matt, please…” you gasped, voice barely coherent, the need in your core so intense it felt like you might unravel.

He didn’t stop, but his kisses softened, trailing up your thigh as the ice melted away, leaving a wet trail he followed with his lips. His hand slid to your other thigh, spreading you open gently, and he kissed closer to your core, slow and worshipful, but not quite giving you the release you craved. “Tell me what you need,” he said, voice low and teasing, though you could hear the strain in it, like he was barely holding himself back.

You moaned again, squirming under his touch, your body a mess of want, the ice and his teasing kisses pushing you closer to the edge but not quite enough. “You…” you mumbled, voice shaky, desperate, your fingers tugging at his hair, urging him closer.

The melted ice left a slick trail on your skin, mingling with your own arousal as Matt’s lips hovered teasingly close to your core, his warm breath sending shivers through you. The weed’s haze had you hyper-sensitive, every touch and whisper amplified, your body trembling with need. His kisses, soft and worshipful, only stoked the fire, and your whimpers were growing harder to stifle, especially knowing your parents were somewhere in the house, oblivious but dangerously close.

Matt pulled back slightly, his eyes dark and heavy as they met yours, a silent question in his gaze. Your chest heaved, and you nodded, desperate, your fingers still tangled in his hair. “Please…” you whispered, voice raw, barely holding together.

He didn’t make you beg this time. His hands moved to his hoodie, tugging it off in one fluid motion, revealing the lean muscle beneath. Your breath caught at the sight of him, and when he shed his jeans and boxers, your eyes widened, a mix of anticipation and nerves fluttering in your stomach. He was big—intimidatingly so, the kind of size that promised both pleasure and a challenge.

He crawled back over you, bracing himself on one arm as he leaned down to kiss you, slow and deep, his lips grounding you even as your body buzzed with need. “Gonna take care of you,” he murmured against your mouth, voice soft but laced with hunger. “But you gotta be quiet for me, okay, sweetheart?”

You nodded, biting your lip, but the thought of staying silent felt impossible with the way your body was screaming for him. He reached between you, guiding himself to your entrance, and you tensed, the anticipation making your heart race. “Relax,” he whispered, kissing the corner of your mouth, his hand stroking your thigh soothingly. “I’ve got you.”

He pushed in slowly, inch by inch, and you gasped, the stretch intense but delicious as he filled you, his size hitting every sensitive spot with a precision that made your toes curl. The sensation was overwhelming, a perfect blend of pleasure and pressure, and you clenched around him, a soft moan slipping out before you could stop it.

“Shh,” Matt murmured, his voice gentle but firm. He brought his free hand to your mouth, pressing two fingers against your lips. “Suck on these, baby. Keep you quiet.”

Your eyes fluttered as you obeyed, drawing his fingers into your mouth, your tongue swirling around them. The act was grounding, muffling your whimpers as he started to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate, each one dragging against every nerve inside you. He was gentle but deep, his hips rolling with a rhythm that made your core tighten, the pleasure building so fast it was dizzying.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he whispered, his voice low and reverent, his lips brushing your ear. “So perfect for me.” His words sent a shiver through you, and you moaned around his fingers, the sound muffled but desperate. He kept his pace steady, each thrust hitting that sweet spot deep inside you, the stretch of him filling you so completely it was almost too much.

Your hands gripped his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you rocked against him, chasing the rising wave of pleasure. The weed made everything sharper—the warmth of his body, the slick friction, the way his cock seemed to know exactly where you needed him. Your thighs trembled, and you sucked harder on his fingers, trying to stay quiet as the coil in your core tightened, threatening to snap.

“Look at you,” Matt murmured, his voice soft but thick with awe, his eyes locked on yours. “Taking me so well.” He shifted slightly, angling his hips to hit even deeper, and you arched beneath him, a stifled cry vibrating against his fingers. The pleasure was blinding, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge, and you could tell he felt it too—his breathing was ragged now, his control fraying, but he stayed gentle, keeping you safe even as he unraveled you.

“Matt…” you mumbled around his fingers, voice barely audible, your body shaking as the pressure built higher. You were so close, every nerve alight, and the need to stay quiet only made it more intense, the secrecy adding a thrilling edge.

“I know, baby,” he whispered, kissing your neck softly, his thrusts never faltering, slow but relentless. “Let go for me. I’ve got you.”

His words, his voice, the perfect stretch of him—it was too much. The coil snapped, and you came hard, your body shuddering as waves of pleasure crashed over you. You bit down on his fingers to muffle your moans, your walls clenching around him, and Matt groaned softly, his own release following as he thrust deep one last time, spilling inside you.

He stayed there for a moment, buried in you, his lips brushing your forehead as you both caught your breath. Slowly, he eased his fingers from your mouth, wiping them gently on the sheet before kissing you, soft and languid, like he was savoring the taste of you. “You okay?” he murmured, voice still low, his hand stroking your side.

You nodded, dazed, your body limp and sated, the afterglow mixing with the weed’s haze to leave you floating. “Yeah,” you whispered, a shy smile tugging at your lips. “More than okay.”

He chuckled softly, pulling you close, his arms wrapping around you as he kissed your temple. “Good,” he said, voice warm and steady. “Let’s stay quiet, though. Don’t need your parents ruining this.”

—

A/N- it’s so flipping long i’m sorry

My beautiful babies- @blushsturns @starrii-sturns @izzylovesmatt @chrisslut04 @oopsiedaisydeer @csturnioloswifey @just-a-girl-1 @sturdyyolo @sturnslvtt @sturnbows @sturniolosrtewsexy @chriss-slutt @franticroads s @thecrawlys @ribbonlovergirl @freshlyinlovewchris @whore4chris @matts-girlfriend @ariana3lovesu @sturnl0ve @cass-sturn @sturns-mermaid @sunrisemill @fadedstvrn @ikyoudreamofme @mattsdemi @kitkatbar1275 @skelet0nsinmyycloset @lezleeferguson-120 @bells-sturn @sturniolosymphony @kenziesturniolo54 @kikirasweatsweathoho @emely9274 @cherryystemm @realuvrrr @zenithsturniolo @kier-with-a-k @eeyoresturnz @elizasturn @ribread03 @sturnslux3 @costalgirlyr @pizzapocketpocketpizza @arianna1342 @mattsplaything @ed1tssturnn

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ghostofbrock · 1 day ago

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𝐒𝐎𝐀𝐊 𝐌𝐄

matt blurb | rough shower sex

The water is already running—hot, steamy, fogging the glass. You’re both dripping wet, barely undressed, barely thinking.

Matt pulls you in with soaked fingers curled around your waist, lips already crashing into yours before the door’s even shut. His body presses into yours, bare chest slick against your skin, his voice low and raw against your mouth.

“You got me so fuckin’ hard just from lookin’ at you like that.”

He spins you, fast, palms splayed over your stomach as he presses your back to the cold tile. One hand sneaks between your legs, fingers teasing with no patience, like he needs to feel how wet you are—even though you’re both already soaked.

“Shit, you’re dripping,” he groans against your neck. “That’s all for me?”

You nod, gasping as he slides two fingers inside you without warning.

“Say it.”

“It’s for you—fuck, Matt, it’s always for you—”

His lips are back on your throat, biting, sucking, marking your skin like it’s the only thing he’s good at. Water pours over both of you, but his hand stays between your legs, curling his fingers in just the right way. You feel yourself clench around him, your knees nearly buckling.

“God, you’re tight,” he growls, voice wrecked and wild. “Gonna fuckin’ ruin you against this wall.”

You whimper his name and it breaks something in him.

He yanks his fingers out—just to hear you whine—and lifts your leg up over his hip. He lines himself up and sinks in with one smooth, brutal thrust that knocks the air out of you.

“Fuck, baby, feel that?” he pants, forehead pressed to yours, eyes dark and burning. “That’s all me.”

Your nails dig into his wet shoulders. He starts thrusting, hard and deep, the sound of skin on skin mixed with the slap of water around you. He grabs your jaw, tilting your head up so you have to look at him.

“You take me so fuckin’ well,” he hisses. “Such a good girl—so good f’me—”

He slams into you again, harder this time, and your head hits the tile with a soft thud. He’s got a hand on your throat—not choking, just holding, grounding you—and it only makes your body arch more into him.

His pace is relentless. Rough. Perfect.

You’re gasping, moaning his name like a prayer, legs shaking as he pounds into you with filthy, desperate thrusts. And Matt’s losing it—muttering breathless curses against your ear, hips snapping, hand sliding between your bodies to rub tight circles on your clit.

“Wanna feel you cum on my dick, baby. Want you fuckin’ soaked—shake for me, right now, c’mon—”

You do. You fall apart with a scream, thighs trembling, whole body clenching around him.

And Matt loses it.

He keeps fucking you through it, chasing his own high, hips jerking as he finally groans your name, pulling out just in time to finish all over your stomach.

But he doesn’t stop there.

He drops to his knees in the water, groaning as he watches it drip from between your legs.

“You’re leaking,” he mutters, mesmerized, breath ragged. “Fuckin’ look at that.”

His fingers slide back in—two, then three—pushing his cum back in on purpose.

“Gotta keep it in,” he pants, licking his lips. “Not wasting a drop.”

Then he leans forward and licks it off your skin. Every last bit. Like he’s addicted. Then wipes his mouth with the back of his palm, face flushed, wet hair slicked to his forehead, eyes blown wide with obsession.

He stands, pulling you into him, arms wrapping tight around your waist.

“Round two in bed,” he whispers against your mouth. “You’re not walkin’ tomorrow, baby.”

A/N: for the person who requested shower smut- i hope you enjoy!! someone needs to stop me from making blurbs LMFAO

╰┈➤𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒍𝒚, 𝒉𝒊𝒗𝒊

dividers - @bernardsbendystraws

tags- @swagalicious260 @watercolorskyy @coquettechris @lovesturni0l0s @christmastreecake @ellbowmacaroni @blog-luvdance @sophand4n4 @meg4-matt44 @mommymomm @chriss-slutt @humpster35 @courta13 @idkwhatthisis2009 @yourfavoritefangirl @slutformatt17 @watercolorskyy @mylifeisevenstranger @suyqa @junnniiieee07 @thecrawlys @sturniolohohoho @h3arts4harry @fratbrochrisgf @abysful @slvt4chrissturniolo @tezzzzzzzz @surfer-sturn @blushsturns @emely9274 @pasteldreams @bamsblooming @sophsturns @ilovemenwithlonghairr @sweetlikesug4rvenom @idefinitelyhateu grace-sturnz @matts-sidepiece @matts-wife

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ghostofbrock · 2 days ago

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STURNIOLO FANFIC ⇢ PRETTY WHEN YOU BEG

sum. chris, needy and whiny, pesters y/n during her work call, craving attention (i wrote this entire thing whole sharing the whole process to @sweetshuga and i don't regret a single thing).

feat. chris sturniolo

cw. smut, sub&dom dynamics, edging, bondage, whiny sub!chris

wc. 1.613 words

the apartment was quiet except for the muffled sound of y/n’s voice filtering through the closed bedroom door. she sat at the desk in the corner, her laptop open, her tone professional as she spoke into her headset.

“yes, i’ve reviewed the proposal, and i think we should adjust the timeline for Q3…” her fingers tapped the keyboard, her focus razor-sharp despite the late hour. the glow of the screen lit her face, her hair pulled back in a messy bun while wearing an oversized blazer that slipped slightly off one of her shoulders. she was in work mode, commanding, almost untouchable.

chris, sprawled on the bed across the room, was anything but focused; he was restless, shirt half-unbuttoned, his dark hair a mess from running his hands through it. despite his “mature” age, he was used to always getting what he wanted—attention, affection, her—but tonight, y/n was all business, and it was driving him up the wall. they’d been together for months now, their dynamic a perfect storm of her control and his neediness, but right now, he felt ignored, and that was unacceptable.

he huffed loudly, tossing his phone onto the mattress with a dramatic thud. no response. y/n’s eyes stayed glued to the screen, voice steady as she answered a colleague’s question. chris rolled onto his side, staring at her, lips pursed in a pout. “y/n,” he whined, dragging out her name, voice high and petulant. “are you almost done?”

she didn’t even glance at him, just held up a finger, signaling for him to wait. his pout deepened and he shifted, kicking the sheets for effect, the rustle loud in the quiet room. still nothing. frustration bubbled in his chest, hot and needy.

he wanted her eyes on him, her hands, her voice—all of her. sitting up, he crawled to the edge of the bed, his bare feet hitting the floor as he shuffled closer.

“y/n,” he said again, louder, leaning over the desk, his face inches from hers. he poked her arm, then her shoulder, his fingers lingering on the bare skin where her blazer had slipped. “come on, babe. you’ve been on this call forever, pay attention to me.”

her jaw tightened, but she kept talking, her voice calm. “i agree, let’s finalize the metrics by friday.” she swatted his hand away without looking, a warning. chris’s eyes narrowed, his bratty side rearing it’s head. If she wouldn’t give him attention, he’d make her.

he slid onto her desk, deliberately knocking over a pen, his thigh brushing her arm. “Oops,” he said, fake-innocent, his voice dripping with need as he leaned closer, lips grazing her ear as he whispered, “you’re ignoring me, and i don’t like it.” his hand slid down her arm, teasing, squeezing through her skirt.

y/n’s eyes flicked to him, sharp and dangerous, but she didn’t miss a beat on the call. “can you repeat that, john? i missed the last part.” her hand clamped onto chris’s wrist, hard, pinning it to the desk. he whimpered, the sound soft but desperate, his body already buzzing from her touch. she released him, pointing at the bed, a silent command to back off.

he didn’t. Instead, he whined louder, sliding off the desk and pressing himself against her chair, his hands roaming her shoulders, her neck, tugging at her blazer. “Please,” he begged, voice cracking, “i need you. i’m so fucking bored.” his fingers slipped under her shirt, grazing her collarbone, and he leaned down, nuzzling her neck, his breath hot and needy.

that was it. y/n’s patience snapped.

she muted her mic, eyes blazing as she whipped around to face him. “chris,” she said, her voice low, lethal. “you’re being a fucking brat. i’m working, you think you can just whine and get what you want?”

he blinked, caught off guard, but his lips curled into a pout, blue eyes glassy with need. “i just want you,” he mumbled, his voice small, but there was a certain defiance in it, a challenge. he reached for her again, and that was the last straw.

she stood, shoving her chair back, and grabbed his jaw, forcing him to look at her. “you want attention?” she hissed, her grip firm. “fine. you’ll get it.” she unmuted her mic long enough to say, “ i need to step away for a moment. i’ll be right back,” then slammed her laptop shut, her eyes never leaving his.

chris’s breath hitched, a mix of excitement and fear flooding his system. “y/n, i—” he started, but she cut him off, grabbing the collar of his shirt and yanking him toward the bed. the fabric tore under her grip, buttons popping as she ripped it open, exposing his chest. he gasped, blue eyes going wide, already trembling with undeniable need. “fuck, babe. my shirt—”

“shut up, she snapped, pushing him onto the bed. he fell back, his wrists instinctively rising above his head as she straddled his hips, her weight pinning him down. she grabbed the torn shirt, twisting it into a makeshift rope, and tied his wrists to the headboard, the knots tight enough to bite into his skin. he squirmed, a needy whimper escaping his lips, cock already straining against his jeans.

“look at you.” she whispered, voice dripping with control as she leaned back, admiring her work. “so goddamn desperate. you couldn’t wait ten minutes, could you?” her fingers trailed down his chest, slow and deliberate, nails scraping just enough to make him arch into her touch. he moaned, loud and unashamed, hips bucking up and chasing her hand.

“y/n, please,” he whined, his voice high-pitched. “touch me. i need you so bad. i’m sorry, i’ll be good, just—fuck, please.” his eyes were wet, tears pooling at the corners, lips red from biting them.

she smirked, leaning down to hover over him, her breath hot against his ear. “oh, you’re sorry now? after acting like a needy little slut?” her hand slid lower, palming him through his jeans, and he cried out, his body jerking under her. she squeezed, just enough to make him gasp, then pulled back, leaving him writhing.

“no, no, please! he begged, his voice cracking, tears slipping down his cheeks. “don’t stop, i’ll do anything. i need you, i need to cum, please—” his words dissolved into a sob, his hips grinding against nothing, cock throbbing painfully in his jeans.

she undid his zipper, slow and torturous, pulling his jeans and boxers down just enough to free him. his cock sprang up, hard and leaking, the tip slick with precum. he whimpered, his wrists straining against the ties, body trembling as she ran a single finger along his length, teasing the vein. “so pretty when you’re desperate,” she murmured, eyes darkened with lust. “but you don’t get to cum. not yet. not until i say.”

he sobbed, his head thrashing against the pillow. “y/n, i can’t—i can’t take it, please, i’m so hard, it hurts—” his voice was raw, every word a plea, his body shaking with need. she wrapped her hand around him, stroking once, twice, slow and tight, and he screamed, the sound muffled by his own bitten lip. his hips bucked, chasing her hand, but she stopped, letting him fall back into desperation.

“keep begging,” she said, climbing off him to strip her blazer and shirt, leaving her in just her bra and skirt. his eyes widened, drinking her in, moans turning to broken whimpers as she straddled his thighs, her hands roaming his body but never where he needed. she pinched his nipples, hard, and he yelped, his cock twitching against his stomack.

“y/n, fuck, i’m begging, okay? i’m so sorry, i’ll be good, i swear, just let me cum, i need it, i need you—” his words were a mess, tumbling out between sobs and moans, his face flushed, tears streaking his cheeks. she leaned down, licking a stripe up his chest, her tongue teasing his skin, and he arched in response, his cries growing louder, more frantic.

she edged him for what felt like hours, her hands and mouth everywhere but never enough—stroking him to the brink, then stopping; sucking the tip of his cock enough to make him scream, then pulling away; whispering filthy praise in his ear while he begged and cried. his body was a live wire, every touch sending him spiraling, his voice hoarse from pleading.

“please, i can’t anymore, i’m gonna die, just let me cum. i’ll do anything, i’m yours, please—” he was incoherent, hips jerking uselessly, his cock red and leaking, his wrists raw from pulling at the ties. she hovered over him, fingers ghosting over his length, making chris sob once again, his whole body shaking.

“not yet,” she said, her voice firm but laced with satisfaction. “you wanted attention, chris. now you’ve got it and you’re whining like a bitch.” she leaned down, kissing him hard, swallowing his whimpers as her hand teased him again, bringing him to the edge and stopping just as he started to tense.

he let out a loud cry, a broken, desperate sound while his salty tears soaked the pillow. “please! please, i can’t—fuck, i love you, just let me—” his confession hung in the air, raw and vulnerable, and she paused, her gaze softening for a moment before her control snapped back.

“you’ll cum when i’m ready,” she said, and started again, her hand slow and merciless, drawing out every whine, every sob, until chris was nothing but a trembling, needy mess, lost in her power and his own desperate love.

©pokesturns any and all forms of modifications, reposts, and translation of my work are prohibited.

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ghostofbrock · 2 days ago

Note

cooking dinner naked (or in just an apron) for matt to see when he comes home and he can’t help but to fuck reader in the kitchen

i gotchu <3

spoil your dinner.

warnings.ᐟ.ᐟ: meandom!matt. sub!reader. unprotected p in v (#wrapthat.) degradation. overstimulation. thas abt it :)

You just wanted to surprise Matt. He had been so busy this week, always waking up and leaving before you even had the chance to kiss him good morning.

So you thought you'd give him something nice to come back to.

You stopped buying lingerie a long time ago. There was no point in getting if Matt was just gonna rip it. An apron would be good enough, right? It's not as pretty or as lacy, but the one you bought has cherries all over it, so you think Matt will like it just the same.

You didn't even hear him come in. You were too focused on making sure the steak didn't burn.

You gasp, feeling his hardened cock grind against your ass through his pants. "Matt—"

"Hi, baby." He rasps into your ear, his hand slowly wrapping your throat, not to choke but to pull you closer. "Missed me?"

"Mhm."

"I can tell. Walking around in this and nothing else... what a slut." He smacks your ass, making you whimper. "W-wanted to surprise you—"

"Yeah? Surprisinging by being a slut?" He punctuates his words with a sharp squeeze to your throat. You whine. "Shhhh, m gonna take care of you don't worry."

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚

"Matt— s toomuch!" You didn't know it was gonna end like this. Ripped up apron discarded on the kitchen floor, a mix of Matt's cum and yours dripping down your legs, hands pinned behind you, and your face shoved against the kitchen island as Matt thrusts into you again. You can't count how many times he's made you cum, how many times he's came inside you.

"You can take it, ma." He growls. "Isn't this the whole reason you did this in the first place? So I could fuck your stupid little cunt full of my cum?" His words make you clench down on him. "See? That's a good fucking girl.." He thrusts directly into your sweet spot. "Matt— Matt— Thefood— please!" You can barely think at the pace he's going, "Focus on my cock, baby. Or are you that cockdrunk already you can't even do that?"

All of it is too much for you. The pace, the way he's talking to you, the smell of burning getting stronger. You can't do it anymore.

You mewl meakly, seeing white as you cum once again cumming on Matt's cock. "What a good little slut." He coos at you, slapping your already red ass.

You guys ate take out that night. After ten more rounds.

tags 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚: @inspiredangel @whore4mattsturniolo @domizzzsstuff @sosasturns @drewswife @nateismybf

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ghostofbrock · 2 days ago

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i swear I’m ovulating 😩 i need NEED the nastiest Matt smut you can possibly give me im literally on the floor begging for it mama please

∶ Summary: What happens after office hours, well, that’s just a different kind of business.

∶ Warnings: smut, boss!Matt x secretary!Reader, swearing, sexual tension, kissing, unprotected sex, creampie, oral, choking, filth

∶ Word Count: 3.6k

· · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · ·

The ding of the elevator at the end of the hall snaps you out of your tired stare. You quickly snap into acting like you were working.

“Good morning.” Matt smiles as he walks up to your desk, “Sorry I’m late. My idiot brother needed a ride and proceeded to spend thirty minute past the time we needed to leave getting ready.” He rolls his eyes, “Did anyone call yet?”

You shake your head, “Not yet, Mr. Sturniolo, but I-“

“You don’t have to call me that, sweetheart. You’ve been my secretary for quite a while now, I think Matt is just fine.”

You tilt your head, “Sorry, Matthew. I’ll work on it.”

A smirk plays at his lips and he tries so hard to fight it off, “Uh huh, you better.” He taps your desk, “Call downstairs, have them bring me up a coffee, and get whatever you like, too.” He gives you a wink, “I’ll be in my office, I have a meeting scheduled for..” he hums as he tries to remember and you fill in the blank, “Nine fifteen with Mr. Colby Brock.”

“That’s it.” He smiles, “I’ll be in my office.”

You nod, reaching for your phone. You dial the number for downstairs and listen to it ring a few times before someone picks up, “Sturnique, this is Stacy, how can I help you?”

“Hey, Stace. It’s y/n from upstairs, could you have someone bring up Mr. Sturniolo’s coffee order and can you also add on vanilla latte with an extra shot of espresso please?”

“His usual and a latte, extra espresso. Anything else?”

“No, that will be everything. Thank you.”

“Not a problem. Have a good day!”

“You, too.” You smile to yourself as you hang up the phone, leaning back with a sigh. As soon as your back hits the chair, the phone rings again. You lean forward, moving in closer as you pick it up, “Matthew Sturniolo’s office.”

“Hello, I’m looking to speak to Matt.”

“May I ask who’s calling?” You rip off a sticky note and grab a pen, pausing when you hear her sigh, “Yeah, it’s his girlfriend, Melanie.”

You raise your brows, “Okay.. give me one second, I’m just going to put you on hold. I’m not sure if his meeting is done with yet.”

“He’s in a meeting right now?” She scoffs, “Fine.”

You don’t hesitate to press the hold button. You push yourself up from your chair and walk over to knock on his door.

“Come in.”

You push the door open and he smirks, “What can I do for you?” You tilt your head, “I have a Melanie, on hold for you.” His face falls and he leans down to rest his head on his desk with a groan, “Fuck me.”

Your brow twitches up as you fight back a smirk, “I told her that I wasn’t sure if your meeting was done with yet or not.”

He lifts his head and nods, “It’s not. Tell her I’ll call her later or something.” You nod, getting ready to back out and he calls out, “Thank you.”

“Of course.” You smile and close the door, making your way back to your chair. You pick up the phone and sigh before taking her off hold, “Hi, Melanie. You still there?”

“Yeah. I’m here.”

“Okay, so Matt is still in with his current clients, but he did tell me to let you know that he will call you back in a little bit.”

“Figures.” She hangs up and you sit there stunned, “Have a good day to you, too.” You set the phone down and turn as Matt’s doors open, “She’s a ray of sunshine.” You tease, “Girlfriend, I assume?”

He shakes his head, “Not even close.”

“Oh. That’s shocking.” You shake your head, “Not that you can’t get a girlfriend or anything, I know you can probably get one if-“

Saved by the bell.

The elevator dings and you look at Matt, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

He smirks, laughing as he shrugs, “You’re fine, don’t sweat it.” He turns, “Oh, thank you.” He takes his cup labeled with an M.S, groaning as he takes a sip, “This is exactly what I needed.” He hands you your cup and you take a sip, “I feel that.”

“Thank you.” You smile at the gentleman before he turns to walk away. You lean back, turning to look at your computer screen, “Oh, did you want me to book your tickets for Italy now, or..” you look back at him and he nods, “You can do it now. Make sure you book yourself one, and I’m going to need two extras for my brothers.”

You both speak at the same time, “He better not make us late for that.”

You both laugh and Matt nods his head, “You get it.”

You move closer to your desk and the elevator dings again. You look at Matt, “We’re not expecting anyone right now.” He looks back down the hall and sighs, “Oh my god.”

A girl comes walking down the hall, “Some meeting you have here.”

“You must be Melanie.” You glance at Matt and back to her, and she nods, “Melanie St. Paul. Yes. Matt, can I speak to you in your office.”

“No.” He shakes his head, “We’re fine right here.”

You sip your coffee, clinking on the flight ticket page, trying to act like you’re not listening.

“You didn’t call me last night.”

You clench your jaw, fighting to keep your eyes on the screen. A part of you felt lowkey jealous because you liked Matt, and you can’t say he doesn’t know. With how he acts with you, creating all of this tension, you’re certain he liked you, too.

“I’m sorry, I had a late work meeting, and then I had a dinner with some clients, and then I went home and passed out.” He shrugs, “I don’t-“

The phone ringing cuts him off and Melanie sighs as you reach to pick it up, “Matthew Sturniolo’s office.”

You nod to yourself as you glance up at Matt, “It’s Sam, he’s returning your call from yesterday.” Matt nods, “Transfer him to me.” He looks at Melanie, “Look, I gotta take this. I’ll call you later, just.. go home. Please.” He turns and walks into his office, closing the door behind him.

Melanie huffs, turning on her heel before stomping down the hall. You give it a few seconds, waiting for her to step on and leave and you transfer the call to Matt.

You bring your personal cell phone up to your ear and smirk, “How’d you like that?”

“Y/n?” He laughs, “oh my god, you are a genius. Thank you.” He hangs up and comes back out. You slide your phone on the desk and turn towards him, “You’re welcome.” You smile, “So, do I get to know who she is?”

“She’s someone I went out with last week. I didn’t feel anything, so I kinda just have been blowing her off, hoping she gets the hint.” He shrugs, “And from that.. I don’t think she has.”

“I don’t like saying this, but she seems a little crazy. Like showing up to your workplace?” You raise your brows, “If she comes again, I’m calling security.”

“If she comes again, I’m calling security.” He laughs, “I thought she was nice, but after the date she blew up my phone, asking how it was and all of that. She kept asking questions about my past dates and if they were better than that one. It was weird.”

“Yeah, that’s..” you shake your head, “Insane.”

“Right?” He sits down in the chair in front of your desk, “You know..” he plays with your pens in your cup, “I’ve had the best time on our work dinners than actual dates.” He glances you at you, and you smile, “Really?”

He nods, “Yeah, you actually listen to what I have to say, and I know it’s mostly about work, but maybe-“

The elevator bell dings and you lean over, “It’s Colby.”

Matt stands up and walks over, “Hello, Mr. Brock.”

Colby smiles and walks up, reaching out to shake his hand, “How’s it going? We ready to talk business?” Matt nods, “Oh, for sure.” He looks at you, “If anyone calls-“

“Take a message.” You nod, “Got it.” You smile and turn back to your desk, finishing up getting the tickets bought for Italy.

The phone rings and you reach over, “Matthew Sturniolo’s office.”

“Hey, y/n. It’s Nick.”

“Hey, Nick. What can I do for you?”

“I know Matt’s in a meeting right now, but can you tell him that Chris and I will be up for lunch?”

You jot down the note, “I will do that. Anything else?”

“Yeah, email me what you want from Cerio’s.”

“You don’t-“

“Matt insisted.”

“Okay.” You smile, “I’ll look over, oh. While I have you on the phone, your ticket, and Chris’ ticket, is taken care of for Italy. I’ll email them to you.”

“You’re the best. Thank you.” He sighs, “I’d love to chat more, but I gotta go.”

“Bye.” You hang up and continue going over emails. An hour later, the door to Matt’s office opens, and him and Colby both walk out, “Thank you so much for coming in. I’ll go over everything and I’ll have y/n send over the finalized copy of the contact.”

“Sounds good.” Colby nods, reaching out to shake Matt’s hand, “Have a good day.” He looks at you, “You too.”

“Thank you.” You smile and look at Matt, “Nick was the only one who called, he said him and Chris are coming up for lunch. I also told them that their tickets are paid for, which I also emailed to you.”

“You’re the best.” He smiles, “So we got Colby’s team on board. If we can pull this off, they can get our line into the fashion week.”

“Oh, Matt. That would be amazing!” You lean forward, resting your chin on your hands, “When do you need to send in the final product?”

“Two weeks is the deadline, so if you don’t mind. You’re probably going to have to stay late a few days within these next two.” He sits down and you shrug, “Not a problem. I’ll do whatever you need.”

He purses his lips slightly, nodding his head, “I’ll keep that in mind.” He looks at you with a smirk, “So, anyway, as I was saying before hand-“

The phone rings and you can tell Matt is getting irritated. You glance at the phone, “Do you want me to-“

“Yeah, please. It could be Sam.”

You nod, picking up the phone, “Matthew Sturniolo’s office.” Your eyes go wide and you motion for Matt to go to his desk, “Yes, Mr. Golbach, I will forward you to his office right now… mhm, not a problem at all.” You glance over as his office door shuts and you transfer the call.

You hang up and lean back. If Matt gets this deal, he’s definitely getting into fashion week.

You were chewing on your nail, waiting for Matt to come back out of his office. You were trying to keep your mind occupied, but this was a big deal for you, too.

An hour and a half later, Matt finally comes out of his office. You stand up, “Well?”

Matt takes a deep breath, “We got it!”

“We got it!?” You cover your mouth, “Hell yes!” You open your arms walking over to hug him. He wraps his arms around your waist, lifting you up off the ground with a spin, “He said he liked the presentation of the proposal, which, honestly that was all you.”

He sets you down and shakes his head, “Thank you for working so hard on that.”

You smile, giving him a shrug, “My attention detail pays off once again.” You laugh and he nods, his eyes searching your face, “Yeah, it does.”

As soon as the elevator dings, Chris and Nick can be heard yelling to him from down the hall.

“Of course.” Matt mumbles, walking towards them, “Why do you always have to eat in my office?” Chris gives him a look, “Uh, your office has the best view?”

Nick hands you your bag, “Your lunch, darling.” You smile as you take it, “Thank you.” You go to sit at your desk but Matt stops you, “No, no. You’re coming in with us.”

You smirk and nod, “Okay.”

Throughout lunch, you mainly listened to the boys talk about their deal with Sam. Italy, and what they wanted to do while in Italy.

Occasionally, Matt would bring it back around to you, praising you for all of your hard work.

You wanted to jump him right then and there. You couldn’t lie, the tension was getting thicker and thicker as each day went by. You just wanted him to push you up against a wall and kiss you as hard as he could.

“Y/n?”

You blink, “What? Yeah, sorry.”

Nick laughs, “I asked what you want to do in Italy while we’re there.” You lean back, “Mm, good question.” You sigh as you think, “I would love to visit the Pinacoteca di Brera.”

Matt’s eyes go wide, “Say that again.”

“Pinacoteca di Brera.” You smirk, “What? Did I say it wrong?” He shakes his head, a smile on his face, and Nick speaks up, “No, you say it so beautifully.”

You smile, “Aw, thanks. I guess.” You laugh, “It’s been a dream of mine to go to Italy.”

“Guys. I think there’s a robbery happening down there.” Chris points at the window and you look over, “What?” He looks back, “Yeah, look.” You all go over and sure enough cops fly towards the scene and Chris breaks into laughter, “Sorry, that’s not-“

“Idiot.” Nick shakes his head. You avert your attention to the scenery overlooked by his office window, “You do have the best view.”

Matt’s eyes never leave your face, “I know.”

You look over at him as he walks away and you go back to sit down. A little bit later, you’re back at your desk, and as the brothers are leaving, Matt’s one thirty is here.

“Hello, Mr. Rosetti. I’ll let Matthew know you’re here.” You smile and call into his office.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

You right back a smile, “Mr. Rosetti, your one thirty meeting is here.”

“Perfect. You can bring him in.”

You hang up and stand up, “Right this way.” He follows you into his office and Matt gives you a nod, “Thank you.” You smile, “Welcome.”

You close the door and sit back down at your desk. A few phone calls and email replies later, Matt and Rosetti come out of his office.

“Thank you for coming in, Mr. Rosetti, I’m excited to work with you.”

“As am I, Mr. Sturniolo.” He nods, “Talk soon.” He gives you a nod before turning to leave and you spin your chair towards Matt, “I think that was your last meeting of the day.”

“Good, put on the voicemail and come in here. I need it to be after office hours for a little bit.” He turns to walk into his office and you comply with his order, hitting the button on the phone and walking into his office.

As soon as the door closes, Matt’s hands are on your waist, “I can’t keep doing this professional relationship, I need to know what you feel like around me.”

You gasp at his words, pulling him in for a heated kiss.

His hands slide around to grip your ass before wrapping his arm around your waist. He kisses down your neck, spinning to walk you over to his desk.

He bends down, breaking the kiss so he can swipe his desk clean. He lifts you up, setting you down on it, and his lips press to yours again.

Your hands work to undo the belt on his dress pants, proceeding to undoing the button and zipper on them, too.

His hands push your dress skirt up your thighs and he gives them a squeeze as your hand slips into his boxers, “Fuck, I need you so bad.”

You nod, “I’m yours.”

He jumps on it, pushing your panties to the side and gliding his fingers up and down your needy cunt a few times before pushing two fingers in. You gasp, your hand sliding up to tangle your fingers into his hair as you moan, “Fuck, yes.”

Your head tilts back, moaning louder as his fingers curl upward repeatedly. You tilt your head up, eyes following him as he drops down to his knees. His fingers pull out of you and they’re replaced with his tongue.

You gasp, pulling him closer with your heel on his upper back, hand still in his hair, “Fuck, Matt.” Your brows furrow with pleasure, lips parting as he moves up to suck on your clit.

“Tastes so good, baby. Just like I thought it would.” His eyes move to stare up at you as his tongue laps at your needy entrance.

You let out a whine, rolling your hips forward, “Feels so good.. fuck, fuck.” You lean back, your hand pressing into the desk for support, “Yesyesyes.”

You groan as he pulls away, biting your lip as you watch him free his cock from his boxers.

You lift your leg, moving to the edge of the desk more and you gasp, moaning out as you feel his cock slip into you. His hand slides up to your neck, gripping tightly as he pulls you in.

His lips crash on yours, your moans swapping together as his thrusts pick up. Your eyes flutter shut, whines and whimpers slipping from your lips, “Matt.. yes.” He rests his forehead against yours, “Fuck, you feel so fucking good.”

He slides his hand around, tangling his fingers into your hair, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this. Seeing you..” he groans, “Seeing you walk around in those cute little business outfits. Fuck. You just.. look so fucking good.”

You reach up, pulling him in by the back of his neck, “I do it for you.” You crash your lips to his, swallowing his groans as he thrusts harder, “Fuck, fuck.” You squeeze around him, “D-don’t stop.”

Your hand slides down to his shoulder, your nails digging into it, “Fuck, M’gonna cum, please don’t-“

You tighten your leg around his waist as you feel yourself let go, moan after moan flying from your lips as he guides you through your high, “F-fuck, fuck.” His lips find yours, moving with yours with heat.

He bites down on your lip, tugging gently, “That’s it, there we go.”

Matt slides his hand to your cheek, pressing kisses back your jaw and down your neck, “I want you, all of you, baby.” He groans, “Fuck, I’ve needed you.”

“I’ve needed you.” You moan, tilting your head back to look up at him, “So fucking bad, Mr. Sturniolo.” You bite your lip, watching him smirk. He presses his lips to yours, “This is the only time you get to call me that, when I’m showing you who’s boss.”

You smile, gasping as you feel him thrust deeper, “What I want to show you who’s boss a time or two?”

“I can make an exception, Ms. Y/l/n.”

He crashes his lips into yours, his grip on your waist tightening, “Fuck, m’close.” He buries his face into your neck, your arms tightening around his, “Let me get you off.”

He leans up, stepping back and his eyes track you as you move down to your knees. You look up at him, lips immediately wrapping around the tip and working him into your mouth fully.

You bob your head, working what you can’t fit with your hand. He groans, his hand laying on your head as he bucks his hips, “Fuck, that’s it. That’s it.” He tilts his head back, eyes closed as he bites his lip.

A few bobs later, and you feel his cock twitch in your mouth, his cum slipping down your throat as you swallow.

You lean back, smiling up at him and he pulls you to your feet, “You are the best secretary anyone could possibly get.” He presses his lips to yours and you smile, “So does that mean you’re going to finally ask me out on a real date?”

He nods as he fixes his pants, “I’ve been trying to all day.” He laughs, “But it’s just one thing after another today, like damn.”

You fix your underwear and pull your dress down, “Well, even though it took forever, I’d love to go on a real date with you.” You step forward and press your lips to his, “Also. If Melanie comes back, I am calling security, actually. I’m going to go call the desk right now and tell them not to let her through.”

Matt chuckles as he follows you out of his office, “You know what I’m really excited for now?”

You sit down at your desk and look at him, “What’s that?”

“Italy.”

· · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · ·

Thank you so much for reading! I love you so much! Catch you in the next one! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

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ghostofbrock · 2 days ago

Text

masturbation p2

⚠️:breeding kink⚠️

you: come put this baby in me pls.

the three little dots popped up almost instantly.

matt: fuck, my filthy girl.

another pause. then—

matt: stay right there, be there real soon baby.

"stay right there, be there real soon baby."

the words repeat in your head, crawling under your skin, curling deep in your belly. he was on his way. you laid there, legs still trembling, the sticky mess between your thighs only making you more desperate, more impatient, more fucking needy.

your phone buzzed.

matt: outside.

your heart skipped, breath hitching as you pushed yourself off the bed.

no time to think. no time to fix yourself up, no time to even grab a fucking robe—just you, half-naked, thighs sticky, skin burning as you opened the door.

and there he was. stood in the doorway, eyes raking over you, his lips twitching up in a slow, knowing smirk. "jesus, baby." he stepped inside, kicking the door shut behind him, his hands are on you. dragging you against him, his breath hot against your cheek. "couldn’t wait, huh?"

you whimpered, thighs clenching as his fingers trailed down your spine, teasing, taunting.

"had to get yourself off thinking about me?" his hand slid lower, fingers brushing between your thighs, groaning when he felt how wet, how sticky, how messy you already were. "fuck." his breath stuttered. "made yourself cum just for me?" you nodded frantically, heat spreading over your skin, your body already arching into him.

"not enough though, was it?"his lips dragged against your jaw, his fingers slipping lower, teasing your slippery folds. "still aching, still waiting for me to fill you up, huh?"

"matt—" your voice was barely there, barely coherent.he chuckled, low and dark.

"needy little thing." before you could whimper, before you could even fucking beg, he had you—

legs wrapped around his waist, back against the wall, pinned, trapped, helpless. his dick, already pulsing against you, pressed right where you needed him, teasing, tormenting, not giving you what you wanted.

"you want it, baby?" he rocked against you, just enough to make your breath catch, just enough to make you tremble.

"say it."

you sobbed, nails digging into his shoulders, body burning for him. "need you. need you to fuck me." his grip on your ass tightened. "no, sweetheart." his voice dipped lower, sounding unsatisfied.

"tell me what you really want."

your breath hitched. your stomach tightened. he dragged his teeth over your pulse, sinking in just enough to make you whimper. "you want me to put a baby in you or not?"

you gasped, a rush of heat flooding your body you swore your knees would have given out if he wasn’t holding you up.

"yes."

he grunted, deep, filthy. "fuck, baby." he dragged his tip through your slick, teasing your entrance, making you squirm, making you whimper.

but he didn’t push in. not yet. not until you said it.

"say it, baby. tell me exactly what you want." your nails clawed into his skin, your body desperate. "want you to fill me up."

his breath hitched.

"fuck—"

"want you to put a baby in me."

his hips snapped forward, slamming into you, stretching you open, filling you in one deep, perfect stroke. a wrecked moan ripped from your throat, your head tipping back against the wall.

his grip tightened, his pace brutal, unrelenting, wrecking you.

"you want it? then take it."

he fucked into you hard, panting into your mouth, gripping you like he was never gonna let go. "gonna fuck you full, baby." your body shook, pressure building so fast it had you sobbing."gonna pump you so fucking full of me, you’re not gonna be able to think straight."

you clenched around him, already so fucking close."you gonna take it? gonna let me breed this pretty little pussy?" you were gone, the words sending you straight over the edge.

"yes—fuck—matt, please—"

his hand slid lower, gripping your jaw, tilting your face up.his lips brushed against yours, teasing, breathless.

"then cum with me, baby."

your body snapped, pleasure slamming into you so hard your vision blurred, your moan breaking into a sob as you clenched tight around him.matt groaned, hips stuttering, grinding deep, right there with you. throbbing, pulsed,filling you up, holding you through it.

his body shuddered against yours, his lips brushing soft, messy kisses along your throat.he was ready for more. he pulled back, eyes meeting yours, thumb stroking over your lips.

"hope you weren’t expecting sleep, baby."

his lips curled, slow.

"we got a long fucking night ahead of us."

divider by @/adornedwithlight

lab data 🥼: @oopsiedaisydeer wanted a part 2 so i had to deliver kisses hope you enjoy

🏷️ @n0tnovaa . @chaossturns . @sweetshuga . @sturniolossss @angvl3tears .

@sophand4n4 . @sturnlsstuff . @x0x0bunny @sturn777 @secretlocket .

@sturnmeovr . @mattsbunnyxx . @chrisslut04 . @colorthecosmos444 . @lol-milfy .

@shadowthesim237 . @courta13 . @pair-of-pantaloons . @stxrsniolo

@sturns-mermaid . @chrisbratt333

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ghostofbrock · 2 days ago

Text

Animal

Summary: Unfair ref calls end up getting Matt placed in the penalty box during a game. The best way to relieve his anger afterwards is sitting in the stands and wearing a miniskirt. Based off of this edit<3

Pairing: Hockey player!Matt x implied bimbo and WAG!reader

Warnings: Smut, semi public sex (storage room), dumbification, rough dom!Matt, unprotected p in v, creampie, hair pulling, gagging, masturbation (m), spitting, oral (m receiving), sir kink if you squint, lots of sex/dirty talk, literally pure filth

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: I don't know anything about hockey, so please bare with me for any inaccuracies!! Get your holy water ready...💗

“Good luck!” You smiled, standing on your tiptoes to kiss Matt’s cheek, despite your white kitten heels. “I’ll see you after the game!”

Matt picked you and spun you around, hand cheekily slipping under your pink miniskirt to grab your ass. “I’m looking forward to it.” he whispered huskily in your ear, secretly suckling on the sweet spot behind the flesh.

You pressed one last kiss to Matt’s lips outside the locker room before bidding him goodbye and scurrying to the special VIP box in the stands of TD Garden that was specifically reserved for the families and friends, but especially wives and girlfriends of the members of the Boston Bruins. Call it shallow or silly, but ever since you were a small girl you had always dreamed of dating a member of your favorite hockey team. Like many New Englanders, you took hockey seriously, and it seemed only fitting for your prince to have skates and a hockey stick rather than a horse.

The universe must’ve worked in your favor. You and Matt had been next door neighbors for all of your childhood, and had started dating your senior year of high school, just before he had been signed to the Bruins. Everyday since then had been a dream. You were practically Matt’s personal cheerleader, on the ice and off. When you thought about that, along with his flirty mention from earlier, you felt your cheeks flush as you shifted in your seat and adjusted your skirt. Matt’s favorite way to celebrate (and lick his wounds after a loss) a game was in the bedroom and you doubted tonight would be any different.

You blushed and adjusted your skirt, excitedly catching up with one of Matt’s teammates’ girlfriend who had been out of town for the last home game. No matter how much you tried to move your mind away from the topic, you couldn’t stop yourself from going back to his promises and the feeling of his hands on your backside.

As the game got ready to start and Matt skated out onto the ice, you couldn’t help but to stand and cheer, bouncing softly on the balls of your feet as you clapped. You knew that he couldn’t hear you, but when your boyfriend turned and made an ‘I love you’ sign towards the private box, your heart soared.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

“Damn.” You cursed quietly, watching the Vancouver Canucks score yet another goal.

The ref for this game was being less than fair, and as Matt lifted his helmet during the second intermission, you could see the agitation etched onto his face. He was making good plays and everyone knew it. You felt your heart drop as you watched him try to contain his anger over the Jumbotron, mumbling small ‘fuck’’s under his breath. Matt put his heart and soul into each and every hockey game, and to not get the outcome he wanted based off of some unfair ref calls sucked.

As the teams took the ice again, you noticed a change in your boyfriend’s demeanor. Matt always played aggressively, but it was more visible now. With each slide of the puck, he was getting madder and madder, skating around the rink furiously. You nibbled the sides of your light pink acrylic nails furiously, growing anxious yourself. Matt was, by definition, an absolute animal in hockey, and you knew it wouldn’t be long before he snapped. There was a reason his team nickname had been ‘The Burier’ since the eighth grade. It’s what he was known for.

Sure enough, not even five minutes later, the ref stopped the game as Matt snapped. He had met his limit for shit he would take from the officials and the other team. Calling boarding, the ref forced Matt into the penalty box. Though everyone else seemed to continue on with the game after the call, you watched the box with cautious eyes. The brunette looked absolutely furious as he tossed his helmet and sticks to the side. You wanted to feel awful, to go down there and fight with the ref despite your pink miniskirt and lack of overall sports knowledge, but as Matt’s darkened blue eyes looked up to where you were sitting, you couldn’t feel anything other than excitement at how he would most likely take you home and fuck you until you were crying.

The game ended quicker than you expected, with the Canucks winning by two goals. As you stood up and gathered your purse and coat, you felt your phone buzz. You knew who it was, seeing as how Matt had just skated into the locker room a few moments prior.

Matt: get your ass to the storage room near section 20. i’m not fucking waiting until we get home.

You felt your cheeks blush at the way just Matt’s tone in the message had your lacy, white thong already soaked. You popped a piece of strawberry gum into your mouth, knowing Matt absolutely devoured the taste on your tongue like a man starved and began to slide through the crowd to his requested meeting area. Luckily, the frenzy of people trying to exit the arena made it easy for you to go unnoticed. Though you weren’t famous of yourself, you were still extremely well-known and popular in the hockey community, leading people to ask you for photos and autographs, even if you weren’t with your lover.

The storage room by section 20 was mostly deserted, save for an exhausted janitor sweeping by the vending machines, and Matt. He had changed out of his team uniform and into baggy, gray sweatpants and a forest green hoodie, the hood pulled tight over his brown curls. Even in spite of his ‘disguise’, you would’ve recognized him anywhere.

“Hey baby,” You hummed, letting out a cute giggle as you leaned into Matt’s chest. “You got a temper today?” You asked innocently, blinking your large, false lashes up at him.

“The ref was a fucking dick.” Matt cursed, pulling you both into the storage closet and locking the door from the inside.

The light inside the closet was dim and flickering. That, combined with the small space because of the cleaning supplies, mops, and brooms, and the casual smell of mildew was less than romantic. Nevertheless, you could feel your panties soaking at the sight of the tent in Matt’s gray sweats. Knocking the brooms to the side, Matt pushed you against the wall, flicking your gum out of your mouth and beginning to passionately make out with you. His tongue fought yours for dominance, spit mixing with your lip gloss as it dribbled down your chin.

“Matt…” You whimpered, knees going weak from all of the good feelings you were experiencing.

“Already at a loss for words, baby doll?” he chuckled, smirking cruelly. “All you can think about is being a slut, huh?”

You whimpered and nodded, moving your hands up to push the hood off of Matt’s head and tangle your pink acrylic nails in his feathery hair. “Oh…” You breathed.

Matt practically pushed you to your knees, tossing your heels to the side and making you kneel. From this angle, he had a perfect view of your cleavage in your babydoll tee, the flowery print cups of your push-up bra peeking over the edge. Your boyfriend began to palm himself through his sweatpants, head thrown back in a moan as he looked at the little protests coming from your pouty lips.

“You gonna take my cock like a good fuckin’ girl?” Matt asked, tipping your chin up to look at him with his other hand. “Gonna show me who the real winner is today?”

You looked up at him with your head cock, almost like that of a pathetic, lost puppy, before nodding quickly. “Promise.” You smiled with a giggle.

Matt continued to jerk himself like there was no tomorrow, not caring that his moans were growing louder. “Need to get you ready first,” he mumbled, unhinging your jaw with his ring-clad hand. “Open.”

You did as Matt asked, watching as he gathered his own saliva and then spit in your mouth, holding your chin closed. You blushed, smiling up at his hard face. Just looking at you was making him grow more sexually frustrated, but he couldn’t stop the warmth that spread through his chest at how adorable you looked on your knees, obeying his demands and ready to suck him off until you gagged. Less than a minute later, Matt had yanked down his plaid boxers and pants, thrusting his dick towards your mouth.

You slowly took his tip into your mouth, licking circles onto his pretty, pink head that was already dripping with precum. The further you took him into your mouth, the more noises he began to make, fists tangling themselves in your hair as he yanked you closer to him by the hair, desperate for more pleasure. By the time his dick had hit the back of your throat, you were practically gagging as Matt bucked his hips towards your face, cock already twitching as his orgasm grew in his belly.

“You can take it…” he hissed, pulling on your hair again as you whimpered around his dick. “Yeah, right there. Jesus Christ, princess. Makin’ me feel so goddamn good.”

The way Matt was fucking your face was angry, like he had been since the ref started making those calls, but it was far from mean. He just had pent up, animalistic energy and it needed a release. Turned out that ‘release’ was you, kneeling and spread like a whore, drool and lipgloss puddling down your chin as you took his cock. You couldn’t make any noises other than small whimpers as grunts as you slid the flat of your tongue across the vein on his underside, but Matt could tell you were enjoying this blowjob as much as he was b y the way your nails were digging into the backs of his legs.

“‘M gonna cum,” Matt groaned. “Better swallow every last fuckin’ drop of it too.”

You nodded as Matt bucked his hips against your face one last time, orgasm overtaking him. You could feel his cock twitching in your mouth as hot, white ropes of cum shot towards the back of your throat. Your boyfriend pulled off your mouth with a pop, holding your lips closed. Once you had swallowed, you wiped your mouth with the sleeve of your pink cardigan, pouting up at him.

“You got yours. It’s my turn.” You grumbled cutely.

“You know, it really is true what they say about whores,” Matt snorted roughly. “You’re just a bimbo. Don’t even realize that mouthing off won’t get you what you want.”

You whined, your panties growing soaked once more. “Yes sir.”

“That’s what I thought,” Matt yanked you up roughly by the arm, pinning you against the wall. Before you knew it, Matt had pulled down your skirt, the fabric fluttering to a puddle around your ankles. He snapped the lacy elastic of your thong against your hip one time before ripping the material off, a sadistic gleam in his eyes. “I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time, y’know…” he trailed off, toying with the material. “Never seemed like the right time, but now, what do I have to lose? You’ve already been face fucked like a slut in a storage room, I lost the game and didn’t have an outlet for my stress, but now? I’m gonna have some fun now.” Matt smiled.

The brunette pulled your lips open, shoving the white fabric of your panties into your mouth. Before Matt, you had never considered yourself a ‘kinky’ girl. Now though, you felt your lower stomach already clenching at the thought of how obscene what you were doing was. Your all-star hockey player was fucking you in the storage closet of his home arena and you were gagged with your own underwear. It was like something out of porn film, yet that only excited you more.

“Now I can fuck that little cunt senseless without you making a sound.” Matt smirked, yanking off his hoodie and the shirt under it.

You let out a small whimper around your gag as Matt slammed into you, your back pushed against the cinderblock wall as he railed you. The feeling of him bare inside of you was making your pussy clench with want. Your climax had been building in your lower stomach ever since your boyfriend had sent you that text, and now, it was threatening to send you over the edge as Matt fucked you relentlessly. You whined against your gag again, back arching off the wall. You wanted nothing more than to cry out as you raked your nails across Matt’s tattooed arms and back.

“Good fuckin’ girl,” the brunette husked in your ear. “Takin’ my dick like a little princess, huh?” Matt was bottomed out inside of you, hissing and grunting at the feeling of you clenching around him. “You gonna cum?” he asked, watching your face as the mascara and other makeup streamed down your cheeks from the tears of overstimulation.

You nodded, grasping at Matt’s hair, back, anything, desperate for relief as Matt fucked you like an animal. Your orgasm hit you like a truck, the white-hot feeling overtaking your body as you writhed under Matt, back arching off the wall. Your boyfriend groaned as your cunt clenched around his cock, sensual noises falling from his lips as he coated your insides white.

“Fuck, Y/N…you feel so fucking good.” Matt told you, pressing kisses to your neck as he softened inside of you.

He removed your gag, moving from your neck to kiss your lips softly, licking up the last drops of your mixed saliva, strawberry gum, and lip gloss. You looked up at him, beyond fucked out and makeup ruined and smiled.

“Guess you’re an animal on and off the ice, huh?” You blinked, all big Bambi eyes and ruined smiles.

“You could say that.” Matt chuckled, continuing to press soft kisses across your flushed skin.

In that moment, you didn’t care about the team’s loss, or Matt’s penalty. He was your winner and you wouldn’t trade him for the world.

tags ♡: @jake-and-johnnies-slut @chrissfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mbsbaby @herxysc-blog @lovingchrissposts @caffeinatedscorpio @spencereidenthusiast @crazychrisl0v3r @sturnioloxlver @whicked-hazlatwhore @blahbel668 @sturncakez @junnniiieee07 @biggesthat3r @sturniolowhore @patscorner @julesgrl @0strawberrysorbet0 @strombolilovr @matt444nixi @remussbitch @devthepoet1221 @mattyblover07 @loisnotaa @mollyquinnxoxo @graysturns @pepsicolapussy333 @ginswife @emmagirouard @athaliahxoxo @bitchydragonparadise @ilydeaky @soggyslugg169 @m00n-0n-paws @books0fever @stingerayyy2 @sunsetsturniolos @mimi-luvzyu @raysmayhem-72 @faygo-frog @oobleoob @billsslutt @aemrsy

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ghostofbrock · 2 days ago

Text

────⠀ ⠀cowboy!matt x farmer's daughter!reader

based off this bot here. cowboy!matt my beloved. warnings / smut, oral (m!receiving), naive!reader, virgin!afab!reader, p in v, pet names (sugar, darlin', sweet girl, baby, pretty baby etc.) i know nothing about horses so like. THIS IS LONG 😭😭 no clue how many words idk long. cum on. ass !!!!!

"you've got a good heart, darlin'," matt's voice is gentle, warm. characterised by that accent, words oozing out of his mouth like fresh honey. his blue eyes linger on you for a moment, he's trying hard to not rake them over you, to look over your curves beneath the denim of your overalls. you're adorable. the bows on the buttons and all. he's taken a little off guard by the sight of you looking at him with those soft features, his attention grabbed again by your words.

you let out a soft squeak when he grasps at your chin gently, calloused fingers from hard work against your skin. a small smile adorns your lips at the touch, eyes searching his for a moment. matt wishes the absolute best for you, he really does. he wants to ruin you—but maybe also take you away from this shitty farm. "just.. wanted to be nice, 'n' helpful, y'know?" you tell him, rolling your shoulders in a shrug.

"but thank you," you add afterwards, a giggle bubbling from your lips. matt feels that familiar pang of warmth in his heart at the sight and sound of it.

fuck, he's done for.

he notices how quiet you are, seemingly nervous and thinking of something to say. a small smirk adorns his lips for a moment. he goes to speak. however you get to it first—"what's their name?" matt glances over and sees you're staring at his horse. a soft gleam sparkles in his eyes and he's more than happy to tell you whatever you please about his best girl.

the smile on his face grows wider at your interest, and he adjusts his cowboy hat, looking back at his mustang too. "mmh? 'er name's angel, my pretty little mustang, hm?" he lifts a hand to brush over her mane, quiet for a minute before he looks back over to you. "wanna brush her f'me, darlin'?" he asks, already rummaging in his saddle bag for the brush.

your eyes light up instantly, and you're practically finding the brush for him with how excited you are. "yeah, please?" your head nods fervently, fingers fiddling with the straps of your overalls as you eye the brush he comes up with.

there's a soft, breathy laugh that escapes him at your excitement at the prospect of brushing his angel. a soft hum comes from him and he nods his head. he swears he can feel his heart aching in his chest with every glance at you. you're too cute. he's gonna pick you up and never let you go, he swears.

"all yours, sugar," he tells you, smiling as he hands the brush to you. he holds the eye-contact, searching your gaze for a minute. "be real gentle, now," his words are soft, voice warm as he guides you over to angel. "she's a sweet girl, the sweetest, but she'll get antsy if you're too rough. she's a diva like that. got it, baby?"

honestly, you know exactly how to brush a horse since you do it nearly every damn day on your dad's farm, however because he sounds so sweet and is beinf so sweet, plus he called you baby? yeah, you'll pretend like you've bever seen a horse in your entire life. taking the brush, you nod your head, "got it," the feel of his hands on your arms makes a warmth flutter in your stomach.

this is his horse, so you're extra careful with angel, murmuring quietly, "you're really pretty," as if the horse could hear you. this makes matt's heart melt where he is, and his tongue darts out to lick over his bottom lip for a moment. matt leans back against the wooden fence, both hands grasping at the top as he watches you brush angel's sleek coat, his blue eyes fluttering over the two of you. his best girls.

"gettin' all loved up on her, ain't you, sweet girl?" he muses quietly, his words are light hearted, eyes tracking your every movement.

"i love her," you affirm, a smile playing on your lips once more as you look to angel again. she's whinnying and leaning towards your touch, content beneath the brush. when you look back at matt, you murmur, "she's adorable." matt nods in agreement, a soft sigh escaping him.

when you're done, you look the mustang over for a minute, glance back at matt, then back again. you're quiet again, thinking about what it'd be like to ride her, but you shake yourself out of your thoughts soon after. matt's brows cock for a moment. "she's the prettiest, ain't she?" he takes back the brush, putting it onto the fence by where he was before he steps up behind you. he can't help but place his hands on your hips.

he draws you back against him, squeezing at your hips for a moment with draws the line between appropriate and well, inappropriate, a lot closer. "you wanna ride her, don't you, sugar?" he feels you relax against him, almost immediately, and he meets your gaze for a minute. seeing you nod, a soft, amused smile settles on his lips again. "daddy doesn't let me ride our horses," a frown settles on his lips at your words.

another quiet hum rumbles in his chest when he feels you lean against him. matt's grip on your hips tightens, and he's resisting the urge to tug you back against him.

"course can, pretty girl," he says gently, tilting your head up for a minute. "daddy ain't here. i am. so, c'mere, now. let me help you up."

you're practically beaming when he says that. he's so damn sweet, you're realising. maybe you really are into cowboys. and really, you hadn't met many guys before, but regardless, he's so damn sweet. "daddy ain't here, you are," you agree, nodding your head. you can get with that logic.

god damn it, you're sweet.

"atta girl," he murmurs, coaxing you closer to angel. he had to admit he's having some very impure thoughts the moment he gets his hands on you, helping you up onto angel's saddle. he's quiet for a minute. you look so damn good up there, on his mustang. thank god for these cowboy pants because damn, he's straining a little here.

he wanted to settle you somewhere other than the saddle, definitely.

matt hops up too, sitting behind you. his chest comes flush against your back, the urge to run his hands over your body is palpable but he holds off. he sees the way you shiver a little, and he asks, "you doin' good, darlin'?" his words are soft. "not gettin' scared, are you?"

admittedly, yeah, you are. you feel so tall and high up, having never been at this height before. however the feel of angel beneath you, unmoving, not budging, makes you feel better. and matt's hands on you too. "ain't gonna let you fall, baby. i'll take good care of you."

"okay," you nod your head, leaning back against matt. feeling angel start to move beneath you, you grasp onto the reins. the mustang trots beneath the two of you, making some ground as she wanders about a bit. this makes you relax, it isn't as scary as you thought. besides, matt behind you, holding you tight, there's no way you'd get hurt.

matt could barely focus with your body against his, ass flush against his crotch and practically grinding back against him every minute or so. but he knew he had to be responsible and keep you safe, so he tries to calm the thoughts running through his head at that moment. thinking about how he wanted you bent over a hay bale beneath him wasn't exactly a good idea considering he had your safety to focus on. "you like it?"

you can feel matt's hands on your stomach, warm and gentle. his voice is low in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine and your hands tightening on angel's reins. "feels good, pretty thing?" he murmurs, and you nod, though unsure whether he was talking about riding around on angel or his touch on your body. albeit, it's definitely both. "yeah," you say quietly to his words, glancing around the field idly for a moment. "daddy shoulda' let me ride horses earlier, this is amazin'."

the farm looked so pretty. the sunset glowing down onto the grass and the two of you, the fruit trees swaying idly and the faint sounds of the animals in the barn only adding to everything. plus, you had a cute cowboy helping you ride his horse. it's the most free you'd been in.. well, ever.

a shiver goes down his spine too at how relaxed you are, how gentle your words are. his mind's spinning, you're so damn soft. it's like you're meant to be against him, your body moulding perfectly into his. he keeps his hand firm against your stomach, before he speaks up again.

"you know.." that gets your attention and you look back at him, "i wanna show you somethin', pretty baby, you trust me?"

despite the fact that that you'd only talked to matt a little bit, this being your first ever proper meeting, you did trust him. perhaps you were naïve (you are) but you were enjoying his company and he radiated warmth. "uh, yeah, alrighty," might also be the warmth of his hands against you clouding your judgement but he does seem genuinely caring and compassionate. "i trust you."

a grin settles on his face the moment he sees your agreement, and he gently encases your hands on angel's reins, bringing his body closer against yours. that's it, you're doing so well.

"s'not far," he assures you, spurring angel forward so she leads the two of you away from the farm. you glance back almost immediately, lashes fluttering against your cheeks. it's getting late out, but you were sure matt'd bring you back before your daddy started to worry, so you settle against angel and continue riding.

you couldn't remember the last time you'd been outside the farm, to be completely honest. and you're sure matt can feel the excitement rolling off of you as angel leads you both further and further from the farm. the sun is setting, slowly but surely, purpley pinks and golden oranges glowing down on you. matt's eyes drift over you, how damn pretty you look under the sun's rays. he's so taken by you. finally, the two of you make it to a little clearing. though, in the centre is an old, worn down barn. how charming.

matt helps you off the horse, hands grasping at your waist as he sets you down onto the grass. "s'got character," you say, finding the nice things in the otherwise.. a tad bit run down exterior. maybe he's thinking too far ahead, he could be, but he could imagine you and him fixing up the place, making it your own one day. the two of you admire it for a moment, the charm and whimsy of it.

he keeps his hands on your waist despite the fact he doesn't need to, his hands smoothing over the denim of your overalls. his grip keeps you against his chest, and he's quiet, just taking you in. "right, c'mere," he says finally, urging you foreard with a nudge of your hips and coaxes you forward with a nod of his head towards the barn. "wanna show you somethin' inside, baby."

you glance up at him, brows cocking with curiosity, "what've you got in an ol' barn like this?" your eyes dart around for a moment, just looking at the surroundings. matt lets out a quiet chuckle at your words, because you're right, an old barn like this? not much going on. but he silently leads you inside, knowing you're completely unaware of his thoughts at that moment. or any of the moments prior.

it's basically pitch black inside despite the flickering rays of fading sunset peeking in from the top windows. you can't see much, if anything at all, eyes having not adjusted to the darkness yet. matt, however, can see perfectly fine at that moment. as a cowboy, he'd seen his fair share of the dark already.

the inside is basically bare, some old couches, hay bales, dirt on the floors and scattered wood, straw too. he can see your mind working in the darkness, and his hands on you are gentle, reassuring that you're fine. he guides you forward slowly, till you bump into a bench, and end up sat down. you try to meet his gaze in the darkness, however it's a little fruitless considering you can't see shit. "matt?" your words are soft, curious.

matt moves directly in front of you, pushing between your legs so that they spread out to accomodate him. now you can see him better, a sliver of light behind him making his figure clearer to your eyes.

"you trust me, sweetheart?" he asks once more, and of course, you nod once more too. his hands come and clasp yours, fingers interlacing with yours. bringing your hands up to his chest, he splays your fingers against him. matt's hot breath fans against your face. "of course you do," he murmurs quietly, smiling gently at the sight of you.

you watch as he slowly leads your hands over his body, hot, warm and firm beneath your hands. matt guides your hands down to his stomach, and you pause there, his blue eyes darting to yours. "keep going," his voice is low and quiet, "lower, honey."

now, your hands ease over him, over his hips to feel the plaid fabric of his shirt end and shift to the cold metal and hot leather of his belt. your fingers brush his belt buckle, and he looks at you once more. "undo it," he coos, "undo my belt."

"i've never.." you go to warn him, but he knows, he knows and he's okay with the fact that you've never done this with a guy before. as he watches you undo his belt, tugging it from the loops, a soft smile settles on his lips. your breathing picks up, chest rising up and down in quickened breaths. it's a good look on you, all breathless and needy.

"that too," he brushes his fingers over your face, touching your skin gently when he sees you undoing his jeans. as soon as he tells you to, you do it, and that makes heat warm his abdomen. matt strokes his thumb over your neck, head tilting to the side. "pull 'em down. there's a girl, that's it," he shivers a little, as do you, as you pull down his jeans, a breeze hitting his thighs.

"you like what you're seein', baby?" he stands above you, wearing his plaid shirt and boxers. matt grasps at your hands once more and he guides them over his bare thighs, a low grunt escaping him.

you had to admit he's good looking. so good looking. you may have been sheltered your entire life but you'd, of course, watched a hell of movies before. and he's like prince charming, the way he treats you, so gently and patiently. "uh-huh," you mutter, shifting your weight where you're sat. "you look.. good."

"just good?"

"uh, really good. like.. woah," that makes him laugh, and he tilts his head for a moment, as he guides your hands now to the waistband of his boxers. curling your fingers into the fabric, he mumbles, "god, you've got such soft hands."

"i do?" feels like you haven't done a single bit of hard labour in your life.

"every part of you's soft, sweet girl," that's true. he knows it, you know it. he squeezes your hands over his boxers, grunting quietly as your palm brushes over the front. he's straining against the fabric already, not wanting to stain them with a wet patch he knows is impending. "pull these down for me," he lets you tug at the elastic, groaning when you finally tug them down.

the way you obey literally instantly, without any hesitation, makes his blood throb. especially as his cock comes free from his boxers, aching and leaking from the tip. precum oozes from the head, and he watches the way your eyes linger on him. "you ever touch a man like that before, sweetheart?"

"no," you shake your head, not sure what to do with your hands now. you're trying so hard not to look down between his legs, but it's practically impossible. a soft smirk settles on his lips and he hums, "never?"

"never," you agree quietly, your chest rising and falling in more picked up breaths. matt's intimidating in a gentle, caring way, if that makes sense. he's so much of those things that it's intimidating.

"m'gonna teach you. y'alright with that, honey? we ain't gotta do nothin' y'don't wanna do."

that makes you relax a lot more and you consider it, "nothin' i don't wanna do?" you confirm, and when he nods, you offer your hand. you notice how his eyes gleam almost instantly, and the speed in which he takes your hand into his. "there y'go," he says quietly, wrapping your hand around his shaft slowly. it twitches in your hand a little, and he lets out a throaty swallow. "wrap that pretty hand around me, that's it."

"like this?" you wanna do this perfectly for him, perfect. your fingers wrap around him, all gentle. he watches you for a minute, before he speaks up again.

"y'know how to give a man pressure, darlin'?" you're quiet for a moment, before you have a spark of confidence and tighten your grip on him ever so slightly, and he lets out a quiet, strangled moan from his throat. "like that?" your head cocks to the side a little, and he nods his head once more.

"just like that," his voice comes out deeper than he means for it to. the moment you start to stroke him, his head tips back a little and his lips part to let out a low sound. "keep at it, baby, just like that.." matt mutters, fingers brushing over your cheek gently.

as you start getting a hang of things, your hand pumps his cock a little faster and more proper. eyes lifting to his, you smile gently, a little proud one. he was proud of you too, really damn proud. "does it.. feel good?" does it feel good? 'course it fucking does.

"you're a natural, sweet," matt agrees quietly, hips stuttering a little towards your warm hand to try chase the pleasure you're giving him. a quiet grunt escapes him and he shifts his weight, chest rising and falling in quickened breaths too. the fact you're so eager makes his heart race, makes even more precum ooze from the tip and onto your hand.

he's quiet for a minute, before he mutters, tone lilted with gentle curiosity. "you wanna try somethin' else, baby? think you'd be a real natural at that too, hm?" he murmurs, an amused sound escaping him.

"mhm?" you look up at him, biting your bottom lip for a moment before you release it as your lips part. you search his gaze, and matt smiles, coaxing you to look at him properly. he looks down at you through his lashes, "open y'mouth for me.. look at you, doin' so well." your lips part, mouth open as soon as he asked.

his thumb drops to your bottom lip, brushing over it. you're so damn pretty, the way he looks you up and down making your stomach flutter almost instantly. he steps infront of you, letting the head of his cock brush against your lips gently. matt wraps his hand around his base, giving himself a few languid strokes. "keep that pretty mouth nice and open," he tells you, words soft.

your eyes fall down to his cock infront of your mouth, feeling his warmth so close to you, and a soft moan escapes you. when your hot breath hits his tip, his hips stutter forward a little bit instinctively. "tongue out," he watches you stick your tongue out and he gives himself a few more strokes, a quiet grunt slipping past his lips. "such a good girl. so damn good."

you look so good down there, eyes soft and curious as they search his. matt bites his lip for a minute, slowly tapping his cock against your inviting tongue. damn it, you look so good. so, so fucking good. letting his free hand come up to the back of your head, he brings you closer to him. "gonna put myself in, alright? don't worry. remember, okay? breathe through your nose, relax your mouth."

he watches as you do what he'd said, relaxing your mouth as best as you can. you're absolutely wracked with nerves, but he's making it easier for you, not as bad as you thought it'd be. matt's dying to feel the inside of your warm mouth. he's quiet for a minute, "don't have to take all of me, alright? take as much as you can," before he starts easing himself into your mouth, a shuddering breath slipping past his lips.

employing what he'd told you immediately, you relax your throat and mouth, starting to breathe through your nose as opposed to your mouth. "that's it, shit, there we go, darlin', pretty, pretty mouth.." you gag the tiniest bit, and he pauses, "you alright? want me to stop?"

"no, no, no, no—" you mumble around his throbbing length, and he lets out a quiet laugh.

"alright, alright, i got you," he eases himself further, till you tell him to stop. "there we go, takin' practically all of me, hm? that's it, relax.. don't wanna hurt you," matt coos, rubbing your cheek for a minute. perfect. you look absolutely perfect with his cock down your throat, and he has half a mind not to start thrusting into your mouth, but he's promised to teach you gently.

when you go to speak, he shakes his head, "ah, ah, no, honey, just.. just feel it for me, make me feel good," he slowly eases himself back, "gonna start moving, okay? tell me if you wanna stop." with that, and your nod which inadvertently bobs your head on him, he starts moving his hips back and forth. the length of his cock disappears between your lips with every thrust, a ring of saliva slowly forming around fhe base of his shaft. "doing so good, got a perfect mouth. never done this before, baby? i'd beg to fuckin' differ, shit.."

any nerves you had prior practically dissipate with how good he's reacting to what you're doing to him. his grip onnthe back of your head tightens, and he's grunting with his every thrust and bob of your head, his own falling back a little. "face of 'n' angel but mouth of a sinner... my god.." he whimpers quietly, his lips parted with his breaths.

if he could keep at this, he would, he really would. he'd use your mouth to get over the edge a million times and he'd cum all over you—your face, your.. he's getting a bit ahead of himself now, he knows. so he gently taps your cheek and pulls himself out for a moment, a grunt escaping him.

you look worried, confused, as if he didn't like it or had some critique. "was i—was i doing it wrong?" you look so genuinely upset that he has to quickly console you that no, he's fine, great, amazing even, and he just wants your warm cunt instead of your mouth.

"no, no, you're doing perfectly," you really are, he feels so fucking good. he fists his cock a few times, a shiver running down his spine before he gestures to you. "take those overalls off for me, alright?" you're so eager to, you practically rip off the buttons. you slip your overalls off your body and you know for a fact that matt likes the look of you, the sight of your lacy little bra and dainty panties clinging to your hips.

"c'mere, come.. c'mere," matt growls, practically lifting you from where you're sat as he looks around for somewhere to bend you over. he finds a hay bale, in which he unbuttons his shirt and lays it out so you don't get scratched up all that much by the hay. in seconds, he's got you bent over.

"wait, wait—" your words cause matt to stop instantly, fingers releasing the elastic of your panties. his eyes dart to yours, and he looks worried that he'd hurt you or something. "be gentle, please?" he relaxes almost instantly, and he smiles, "i got you, baby. i'll be gentle."

his hand smoothes over your ass, squeezing at it for a minute before he mumbles, "can i take this pretty pair off you, baby?" he sees how you're quiet for a minute before you nod, and he grins as he eases them off your soft thighs. the sight of your pretty, puffy pussy makes his dick throb between his thighs once more, twitching. a string of your arousal clings to your panties from your hole, and that only serves to make him want you more.

"please," you say quietly, weakly. matt hums quietly, letting his fingers ghost over your folds. he swipes a finger through your wetness, seeing whether he'd need to loosen you up for him. he knew you'd be tight but you were wet enough he could probably push right in without much resistance, if any at all. "yeah? need me?" he coos quietly, his hand slowly wrapping back around his cock as he slowly rubs himself against your cunt. the quiet, wet sounds your core makes makes him groan.

"hold on tight, okay? real tight for me," you grasp at the hay as best as you can, feeling it scratch at your hands a little. but the pleasure he's about to give you outweighs any thoughts of getting your hands a little scuffed. the feel of his tip pushing into your wet hole has your knees buckling beneath you, and he slides his free hand underneath you to hold you up. "matt," you whine out, quietly, and he coos, "i know, i know. feels big, huh? you feel tight, honey, so tight 'n' warm."

he pushes in slowly, not wanting to overwhelm you anymore than you already are. matt's eyes flutter shut for a second along with your own, when he bottoms out, and he grasps at your hips tightly with an almost bruising grip. "can i—"

"yeah, please, oh.. please.." well, if you're that eager. he rocks his hips back before he pushes himself back into you. you gasp out, grip on the hay tightening. he's so big, having to practically bully his cock into your pussy, because you're so damn tight too. matt's quiet but still vocal, grunting, groaning and faintly whimpering with every thrust of his hips.

you hiccup softly, "so good, oh, oh god," your chest rises and falls in heavy breaths, tits shaking beneath your sweet little bra, spilling from the lace. this catches matt's eyes immediately, and he smirks, sliding his hand under your chest and squeezing to hold you up. he swallows thickly, "you like that? yeah? feels good, i know, baby, mmh, yeah.." he squeezes your chest again, before he slides his hand down your side to hold onto your hips and squeeze again.

matt's thrusts pick up, hips smacking against yours with the sound of skin against skin echoing throughout the barn. the way you cry out, legs trembling, god, you're gorgeous. so, so damn pretty. "matt! matt, oh my god, mmh—ah.." he can tell you're getting closer from how the trembling in your legs picks up, and how your inner walls clench around him. he swallows hard, "you gonna come? yeah? all over me? that's it, give it to me, wanna feel it, fuck."

you're squealing, grasping tighter at the hay bale beneath you. his words only throw you over the edge, your orgasm hitting you like a truck. he gasps shakily, feeling the way you squeeze around him so tight. he feels your release ooze down your thighs, and his too, and he growls shakily with each buck of his hips now. "gonna come, fuck, hold on, baby, hold on," he slowly pulls out of you, his fist flying to his cock as he pumps his hand quickly, whimpering under his breath with every stroke. "m'comin', shit, my god—that's it, yeah.." his abdomen tightens and eventually hot, white ropes of cum spurt out from his tip and coat your ass, dripping down your soft skin.

you look so pretty like that.

"you okay, baby? he asks gently, eyes meeting yours as he grasps at the hay bale, chest rising and falling in picked up breaths. when you glance up at him, all wide eyed and hazy, nodding, he knows you're okay, and wanting more. "feel so good," you admit, and you glance away for a second before meeting his gaze again. "want.. more."

"more?" matt's eyes rake over you for a second, and he nods, a hum escaping him. "turn around, i got you, honey. always got you."

taglist ／ ⋆ ۪ @lovesickgrlsrh0t, @pettydollie, @dayzeandhaze, @dqzzlingsummer, @slut4chriss, @pillwebb, @https--roman, @amaris444, @yutafairy, @theognatster, @v33angel, @fxlklorelover, @mattsturnswhore, @sturncakez, @flouvela, @mattsdolll, @ifwdominicfike, @httqvi, @imyesterdaysproblem (some tags. didnt work my bad pooks)

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ghostofbrock · 2 days ago

Text

WHEELS ON THE BUS

m. sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: You and Matt have always been best friends, you never felt something else but an incident while you both were in a road trip together might change that.

warnings: soft dom!matt, smut, pet names, use of y/n, foreplay, p in v, degrading kink, sort of breeding kink, edging, bulging, swearing, semi-public sex, unprotected sex (don't).

a/n: After MONTHS of being a lazy ass and also after a TIGHTT week of anxiety, I’m back and better than ever 🤍 expect more coming soon, I appreciate y’all.

Based on this request!

not proofread!

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The cold breeze tingled Matt’s skin, sending shivers down his spine as he kept piling up everyone’s bags inside the car truck, the blue hour of the sky created this dark yet comforting panoramic view of it.

A voice in the distance caught his attention “Wait up!” You taunt, running down to your best friend as a heavy bag carried behind you. You agreed a few days ago to go on this trip with Matt and his family since he was practically begging you to spend an entire week with him; even though he knew you hated the beach, you hated feeling sticky or feeling a singular drop of sweat on your skin, being in heated places was a thing that always drove you to the edge and you would get in a bad mood the whole day because of it.

It was just too excruciating, but you accepted just because your best friend didn't want to spend an entire week without you yet he liked seeing you suffer since he had always known your hatred towards the beach.

“Here ya go,” You said as you lifted the bag with all the strength you had and handed it to Matt, he just looked at you, a cocky smile forming on his lips as he placed your bag on the last spot in the trunk. “You excited?” Matt asked, closing the trunk before his eyes returned to bore into yours waiting for an answer, “If you mean I'm excited about torturing myself an entire week on the beach, then yeah.” You replied sarcastically gaining a chuckle from him, “It’ll be fun, I promise.” He said, patting your head gently.

“I highly doubt that being in the hottest weather ever is fun, Matthew.” You said, sticking your tongue out, he just chuckled and messed your hair a bit, his hand gently moving to cup your cheek as he pinched it delicately, “Thank you for coming either way.” He smiled gently and you returned it.

The eye contact lasted for a few seconds before the lousy voice of Chris caught each other’s attention, you both turned around to see him walking towards you “Time to hit the road!” He says with a big smile as he places his arm around you, he looks at Matt and then at me, “Are you guys ready?” He asked to which you replied with, “Heck yeah! Let’s hit the road!” A bright smile smeared your face as you, Matt, and Chris made your way to the backseats.

When Chris stopped taking hold of you to go to the other side of the car you were left with Matt inside the car and his face giving slight concern. “What’s wrong?” You ask furrowing your brows slightly.

That is when you realize what it was, the backseat had no space left for you, and neither Matt nor you knew what to do, “Fuck.” He muttered to himself looking back to where his brothers were situated and back to you with an awkward face.

Matt thinks for a second before parting his lips to let out the sentence, “You could sit on my lap.” His palm softly patted his lap as he looked at you with a sly smile.

Your lips pursed into a thin line, the awkwardness getting the best of you as you got into the car and carefully down your weight on your best friend’s lap. To which he just placed his hands around your waist and gently sat you down on his lap. “Relax, you’re not heavy at all.” He whispers in your ear as the car door closes.

You looked back at him and smiled shyly, trying to hide the fact that he was caressing the sides of your hips with his thumbs.

The first two hours of the road were completely normal, you and the triplets had a karaoke session for half an hour, and the rest was to talk about what you guys wanted to do as soon as you arrived and enjoy some snacks. But now you guys were only an hour away from the beach house that the triplet's parents rented.

Nick and Chris had fallen asleep for a few minutes and you could also feel your eyes heaving from the energy you wasted the first two hours throughout the way, also the fact that you didn’t sleep that well last night. Matt on the other hand was with his headphones on the minute Chris and Nick closed their eyes.

You patted Matt’s lap to get his attention, you looked back at him as soon as you did that he took his headphones off “You okay? Need something?” He asked with slight concern.

“No, I’m fine, I was just wondering if I could get comfortable so I can sleep while we get there.” You said with a little smile plastered on your face as he nodded.

Matt spread his legs slightly so you could have more space to get as comfortable as possible, you rocked your hips a little to the sides so your lower back could be resting on Matt’s chest level or closer to it, and you rested your head on his shoulder as he put his headphones back on.

Your eyes closed so easily, and your mind drifted to your dreams so swiftly that you couldn’t even imagine.

Thirty minutes left inside the car, you were still in the embrace of Matt’s arms, your position shifting once in a while.

And how clueless of Matt for not thinking how touch-deprived he is, every time you switched your position while your slept you would move your hips or straddle his lap, making his dick twitch against his pants.

His breathing getting heavier, and his body was shaking trying to contain the pure excitement that just the smallest friction could do to him. He felt so guilty for his body reacting and finding pleasure in something meaningless; something completely common and normal.

He closed his eyes, trying to contain these feelings towards you, towards your body to stop the erection that he sooner or later would have to fix all by himself.

And also wish he could arrive as fast as he could to the fucking beach house.

After what seemed like a good twenty minutes of sleep, you finally opened your eyes carefully, trying not to get blinded by the rays of sun that were passing through the window, the change of scenery makes your stomach flutter with joy as you see the ocean peek through the reliefs of the street.

You turned your head to peek at your best friend who seemed to be sleeping, his dark circles showing off a little bit more with this new change of lighting that the car has. You smiled to yourself as you saw your best friend opening his eyes quickly when he felt your gaze on him. “Did you get to sleep for a bit?” You asked, your throat was dry and raspy, nonetheless, a good cup of water could fix it as soon as you guys arrived at the beach house you were staying in.

Matt nodded, his eyes looking away from yours as he changed his position a little, making your weight lift a little, a small poking sensation in your inner thigh as he did this action. Something felt off in your surface.

You looked down, scanning Matt’s lap to check if he had something in his pockets that could make this sudden change in position make you slightly uncomfortable.

Your eyes widened as you took a glance of what was the strange object poking your inner thigh, it wasn’t just an object it was more of a certain body part. You looked away in shame, forcing yourself to stare at the blankly looking headrest in front of you, your stomach feeling fluttered as you tried to stop thinking about what you just witnessed.

The beach house was beautiful outside, it was a two-story victorian summer house, with a small front porch with two wooden chairs and a tiny round wooden coffee table, the breeze hugging your skin nicely, everything seemed to be perfect, the weather in Long Island was just the perfect balance of not too warm and not too cold, it definitely felt like the summer vibes were there.

As you entered the house, your eyes were amazed by the interior, the walls were covered in this beautiful blueish floral wallpaper, the couches looked like they some sort of English sofas, and a small chimney facing a large path to the back porch of the house, the stairs that lead to the way to the different rooms where you would be staying in for the next week.

Matt steps beside you, glancing around the place, “Wanna share a room?” He asked nonchalantly as he looked at you, taking in all of your factions, you looked back at him “I thought you and Chris agreed on sharing the same room, though?” You retorted.

Matt brushed the strands of hair blocking his view, “Yeah, I thought so too until he decided that he now wants to share a room with Nick.” He sighed, “I think I’m going to go upstairs and shower and then take a nap, I feel like I haven’t slept in years.”

You nodded “Alright, I’ll catch you later.” You replied, giving a sly smile to him as he walked upstairs and disappeared out of your sight. Things have gotten awkward since you discovered the hard-rock erection he had back in the entirety of the ride. You didn’t say a word but interacting with him or even just looking at Matt made you nervous somehow.

Your mind kept racing with the thought of seeing his body react that way to you, does this mean he feels turned on by you? Should you do something about it?

A few minutes had passed and you explored the rest of the house already, you carried your bag in your left hand as you went upstairs, a room door slightly opened and a dim light reflected on the inside of it. You pushed the door gently, and the first thing you heard was the shower running down, Matt’s bag half-opened in the bed, you tossed yours to the other side, sitting down beside it, your head had a pounding headache that you couldn’t make it stop.

Scanning the room, you see the bathroom door halfway opened, the fog from the steaming water escaping through it, you could see Matt, his silhouette revealing the way his forehead was resting on the tiled wall of the shower, the water running down his back and cascading through his hair, his hands rubbing his face exhaustingly as he sighed in pure relief.

The way his muscles flexed each time he brushed his hair back was enough to make you soaking wet in your panties. You stood up, your steps closer and carefully just to get a better view of his silhouette.

You were there, your hand opening the door more, the squeaking sound blowing your cover because Matt looked right at you in the eye, the eye contact holding on for what seemed like an eternity. You shut the door and ran down to sit back on the bed.

Would it be worth it to risk it all?

Dawn arrives, you've been playing with Nick and Chris UNO matches for what seems like an hour now on the back porch of the residence, every match Nick either complained or Chris would make a mess and you guys would have to play all over again, that was until Nick threw a tantrum over him and they both went to their separate ways inside the house.

You were lying now on the couch of the living room, bored filling your senses, your phone not even making an effort to entertain you at all. You heard steps coming from the staircase, as you looked up you saw Matt, his hair was still a little wet and he looked like a brand new person in comparison to how he looked a couple of hours ago. “Hey, I’m going to drive around town, I was wondering if you would like to come with me?”

You stood up from the couch, “Sure! I was getting bored, so.” You both walked towards the front door, Matt opening it for you.

The town was almost like a sort of ghost town, with a few people walking down the sidewalk, and making their way to Amangasett beach. The lamp posts illuminated around with a tenuous yellowish light, the night sky revealing a pale moonlight. “Wanna go for a swim?” Matt’s voice takes you out of your trance.

“Yeah, I don't see why not.” You replied with a small smile as you moved to his seat and gave him a side hug, to which he just chuckled and kept his eyes on the road.

Matt parked the car in an almost empty zone at the beach, the place seemed clear of big crowds, just a few couples sitting by the edge of the ocean but no one else. As you got out of the car you took off your shirt and shorts quickly, running down to the ocean as Matt followed your pace, the both of you giggling.

Your body trembled when your toes grazed lightly on the water, the adrenaline and tingling sensation making your heart flutter anxiously, you kept sinking your body until half of your abdomen was fully covered by the ocean, you looked at the moon taking in the sight of it until you felt cold fingertips touch your lower back. “I’m glad you came with us,” Matt said, his voice sounding so distant yet it had a hint of something else you couldn't fully recognize.

He spins you around by grabbing your waist, your eyes meeting his as he pulls you closer, your breaths mixing with each other’s as he takes the sight of your face, his hands still positioned on your lower back. His eyes shone brighter than ever before. “I mean, that’s what friends are for, right?” You looked for a split second at Matt’s lips, his tongue sticking out to lick the inner corners of his lips before parting them.

“Yeah, friends…” He breathed out, his words laced with that unknown feeling you can’t recognize, his eyes giving a glint of lust as he looked at your lips.

Your mind drifts to the moment you both are in the car, his hard rock erection making you question whether it’s worth it to risk the friendship or pretend like it was a little accident, even though it wasn't little at all.

Or the shower incident, nothing of what happened today was by accident, there was not even a chance that it was.

Your attention gets drawn by his breath getting closer to your ear, his voice carefully whispering his words “What you thinking ‘bout?”

You licked your lips, your voice trembling and your words slipping out of your mouth sloppily “Nothing…w-why?” your lips pressing together as his breath reached down your jawline, his lips grazing the fine line of it teasingly, a low dark chuckle getting out of his mouth when he saw you shiver by the smallest contact.

“Remembering what you saw in the bathroom, hm?” His lips pressed tentatively, traveling from your jawline to your neck, you titled your head to the side to grant him more access, his hand sneaking down to grab your throat delicately as he kept abusing your sweet spots. His other hand caresses your waist.

“I don’t have a clue of what you’re talking about…” You breathed out, breathless whimpers coming out of your mouth as Matt kept doing his attack all over your throat, leaving hickeys and wet kisses all over. He hums, Matt’s vibrant voice coursing through your body “Really? How funny, considering you even tried to be sneaky about it.” He says as he returns to kissing your jawline, then your chin, and then he gets to your lips, tempting you to make the move, his teeth biting your lower lip gently.

“Don’t act so innocent now, you were sneaky about your little accident back in the car too.” Your words shut out with such confidence, you looked at him, your eyes piercing his as you took in his reaction of pure shock; his lips parted and that was the chance you decided to get to kiss him. The both of you synchronized perfectly as if your lips were meant to be for his.

Your hands went directly to his chest, your fingertips doing small circles around his collarbone as he pulled you closer by your waist. Your noses were touching at this point and the kiss got more intense, the both of you roaming your hands all over each other’s bodies.

You were now lying down on the backseat of the car, your hand gripping Matt’s hand as he sucked your right nipple, his other hand playing with the left one, your back arched off the seat and your legs were wide open, fully unclothed now in the secluded space that he decided to take you to. Your eyes closed as you let the overwhelming pleasure take control of your body, his tongue swirling around your nipple, your breathless whimpers making Matt get harder beneath you with each passing second.

His kisses trailed to your belly, kissing it intently “I’m going to stuff this beautiful body of yours with my babies” A dark glint on his eyes as he ascended back to your face to kiss you. His hand traveled down to where your folds were, his fingertips adding pressure as he moved them in circles, causing you to gasp at the sudden wave of pleasure you were experiencing. Your hands flew to Matt’s biceps, your nails burying deep inside his skin as he kept getting you all worked up.

His lips rushed to kiss yours, this time more desperate and sloppier than ever as he kept adding more pressure on your sensitive nub, your moans getting louder as the knot in your stomach gets stronger. “m’ god” You babbled between kisses, your eyes closed as you take in all of the ecstasy.

“So close…” You breathed out, the knot snapping any second.

Then suddenly, the feeling stopped, completely gone.

You opened your eyes, Matt’s looking at you with a devious expression as he untied the lace from his shorts, the bulge of his dick very visible even though you are in an almost dark place. “What?” He asked, his head tilting to the side, a low chuckle as he spoke, “Wanted to finish?” You nodded, the desperation clear.

“Why would I let you finish if we haven’t even started? Hm?” He crawled back to be face to face with you, you felt his tip grazing your folds unintentionally, “Spread those legs wider for me, m’kay?” He said in a low voice, almost a whisper.

The desperation and adrenaline fuels your body, your legs spread wider enough to give him space between you, he positioned his tip in your entrance, edging you out even more until you had to practically beg to him. “Matt, please—“ you huff out at the undying desperation that your body was craving.

“Aw, look who’s getting frustrated now…” He coos, his left hand pumping his dick slightly before he slammed into you without warning, his movements frantic and hard, your head hitting the door slightly each time he pounded back inside you.

Your hands flew back to his biceps, gripping onto them for dear life as erratic moans emitted out of your mouth, his pace was nowhere close to being steady, it was sloppier as if he was already on the verge of getting on his own high too.

The tip of his cock was hitting that sweet spot of yours perfectly, making you salivate due to the incredible amount of intoxicating pleasure you were given in twenty minutes. Your mind felt fuzzy, this kind of pleasure was something that you’d stopped experiencing a long ago, your eyes crossing and shutting as you felt that sweet sensation of being closer, Matt abusing that spot deep inside you over and over again.

You couldn't even remember the last time sex felt this good, and never in a million years, you would’ve thought that your best friend would be the one to achieve that with you. Your thoughts stopped as soon as you felt his thumb on your tongue, indicating for you to suck it which you didn’t hesitate to be asked twice.

Your tongue swirled all over his thumb like a lollipop, getting it all wet as you felt the grunts and whines from Matt, the grip his other hand had on your hip getting tighter within two minutes. His pace not slowing down but getting ten times faster than it already was, the car shaking and your hands gripping the door to hold onto dear life.

Pornographic moans emitted out of your mouth as you felt that tight knot forming once again and getting closer and closer to snapping ferociously, your hand gripping tightly onto the seat as your eyes closed.

Matt’s placed his hand to grasp your chin, forcing you to look at him. “All that teasing to get dumb fucked by me?” He said, his voice losing power from time to time.

snap.

Your juices spurt all over the seat and coated Matt’s dick in a thin, sheer coat of hot cum. Moans emitted out of your mouth as your grip on the headrests of the car loosened up due to the lack of strength that your body was capable of holding up. Your legs are all wobbly and your muscles are sore from all the containment that they did.

At this point your mind was fuzzy, too dumb fucked to acknowledge that the well-known knot snapped already, your body too weak to keep upholding Matt’s pace as he kept pumping in and out constantly.

Not too long after, Matt came to his release too. Your juices and his combined deep inside you, he pulled out of you as he admired the conjoined trail of juices coating his shaft. His left hand immediately went deep inside you, making sure his hot seed was ‘secured’. He pulled his fingers out, a popping sound as he did so, and cleaned them off easily, admiring the rest of your body, a gleam on his eyes reflecting the lustful expression of being satisfied enough.

He pulled you close to his body, sitting you straight up as you both recovered, Matt trailing kisses all over your face and repeatedly saying “M’ love you” as he caressed your hair with ease.

Both of your chests were going up and down irregularly, trying to stabilize each other’s breathing back to normality.

Matt’s eyes shifted around the car, taking a look at the foggy windows, a sly smile smearing all over his face as he traced with one of his fingers the foggy window in front of both of you, tracing the words.

‘We just fucked :)’

You finished reading what he traced on the window and chuckled weakly as Matt looked proudly at his ‘work of art’.

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a/n: tysm for 600 followers, wtf I can’t believe we’re already 600 (Nick fic coming real soon as a 600 followers special). It’s funny how I can easily write shit about Chris or Nick but when it comes to Matt, this mf is the hardest person to ever write off 😭 love y’all

tag list: @sturniolossss @tillies33ssss @chrisloyalgf @alorsxsturn @sturnioloslurps @cindylcuwho @3mm4yung @chrissfavwh3re @blahbel668 @lov3bug @starsturns234 @junnniiieee07 @mstarniolo @sara2233445 @teenagetrash00 @mattsturnioloisbae @mbbsgf @thecynthh @braindead4l @freshsturns @lexisecretaccx @wh0resstuff @jnkvivi

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