#weekend sleepover ꒰◍ᐡᐤᐡ◍꒱

[letterstotheflre]

for the sleepover, matt finding u in his clothes, like his boxers and that blue zip up of his and he just loves it SO much, like other girlfriends haven’t done it, he thinks ur so adorable and cannot keep his hands off u

um.. this took a bit of a turn lmao sorry if it’s not what you were expecting

cw: hints of primal play and making out

matt pauses at the door, his brows furrowed as he takes in the smells of his apartment.

there’s always the scent of his laundry detergent, mixed with the traces of blood that cling to the air after his patrol nights. there’s also his cologne, and of course his own body scent that clings to his sheets and dirty clothes, and he can’t forget the smell of coffee in the mornings and nights.

but usually, there’s your shampoo and conditioner too. raspberry and a hint of mint. not to mention all the chemicals from your skincare products, and the delicious and warm scents from whatever you cook for dinner. and of course, your own body scent— his favourite smell out of all of them.

except there’s no trace of your natural smell when he stepped inside his apartment. he listens to the strange silence, his heart pounding at the thought that something happened to you. that fisk got to you and took you from him, the same way he threatened to take vanessa from him that one time.

he exhales when he makes out a soft humming coming from the kitchen, his head bowing down in relief. now that he’s relaxed, he notices the clinking of a whisk against a metal bowl, the soft wet sounds of milk and melted butter swirling around soft flour and grainy sugar.

he takes off his suit jacket and rests his walking stick against the wall and walks in your direction, unbuttoning the sleeves of his shirt and rolling them up to his elbows. he takes his glasses off and hangs them on the pocket of his dress shirt.

“what are you making?” he asks you.

you scream in surprise, jumping in the air and turning around all at the same time. matt laughs, leaning his hip against the counter. “don’t scare me like that!” you clutch your chest, your heart beating erratically. matt keeps chuckling, so you walk towards him and slap his chest. “it’s not funny. you could’ve given me a heart attack.”

“it’s a bit funny,” there’s a smile playing on his lips.

your fingers play with the collar of his shirt, your hip now also resting on the counter. “it’s only funny when i do it to you,” you pout.

his smile widens at that. he tilts his head and leans down so that you’re face to face, “that doesn’t sound fair.”

“hmm, never said i was,” you’re smiling too, your feet rising to their tiptoes without prompt. your lips brush against each other as you whisper, “missed you.”

matt leans forward and presses your lips together, taking your breath for himself. your hands go to his shoulders, then link themselves together at the back of his neck, keeping him in place.

his hands go to your waist, and he’s about to pull you even closer to him, maybe even place you on the counter when he touches the fabric.

he stops kissing you, his eyes open and staring forward as he realises you’re not wearing your clothes. the fabric that covers your body is too soft, a bit cold to the touch, nothing compared to the usual cotton clothing you usually wear.

“matt?” you ask worriedly, leaning back a little so that you can look at him. his hands move all over your body, trying to make out the piece you’re wearing just with his touch.

he notices a row of buttons on the front, his hands running from your tummy up to your chest. there’s a collar there, and when he strokes your arms he notices the sleeves end at your elbows, rolled up just like his.

“you’re wearing my shirt,” he mumbles, mostly to himself, once he identifies the fabric as satin. then his hands go to your thighs, feels the microfibre that makes up his boxers. “and my underwear.”

the heatwaves that make up your silhouette in his mind turn red almost immediately. “i— yeah. i didn’t have any clean clothes left…”

“that’s why i couldn’t smell you,” he realises. at your confused sound, he explains, “i couldn’t smell you when i came in. i thought— i thought something happened to you. that fisk—“ he shakes his head, ridding his mind from that scenario. “you’re covered in my scent.”

there’s something so arousing about the way he says it. he never thought he’d like something like that, the idea of covering his partner in his scent until their own was indistinguishable even for him. but it’s you, his sweet girl, wearing his clothes and voluntarily bathing yourself in his smell.

he can’t help it, he noses the soft curve of your neck and breathes in deeply, fills his lungs with air that smells of him. he growls, tries to fight the urge to sink his teeth in your skin but it’s too strong.

you gasp when he bites down, the pit of your stomach swirling with heat at the sounds he makes. he turns you around until you’re pressed against the counter, rolls his hips against yours so you can feel how hard he is for you.

all because you wore his clothes.

“matt,” you tap his shoulder, moaning when he sucks on your sweet spot. his mouth goes down to your chest, marking the exposed skin with red bruises. “matt, the batter.”

one of the sleeves falls down, exposing your shoulder. matt kisses from your chest, over your clavicle and up to your shoulder, sinking his teeth once more. you mewl, arching your back when he runs his tongue over the bite mark.

“later.” he picks you up and you wrap your legs around his waist, takes you to his room in record time. “have to mark you from the inside. now.”

[letterstotheflre]

AHHH YAY SLEEPOVER!! thoughts on domestic fluff w matt, like mornings or days in..?

i can't remember if matt ever talks about the origin of some of his scars, and i haven't read the comics so this is all made up

cw: talk of scars

“what’s this one from?” you trail a finger over the long scar on the left side of his chest.

matt’s hand on your naked back stops moving, resting on your shoulder. “a fight with nobu," he says softly, going back to stroking your back.

"who?" you keep tracing the scar as he explains who the man was, hum lightly when he's done. you stretch a little, leaning over him so you can press your lips against the lightly puckered skin.

matt smiles, looking down at you with his double chin showing. you nose at it, his stubble scratching the tip of your nose. "what are you doing?" he asks, chuckling at the way you nuzzle into him like a cat.

you shrug, running your fingertips over his cheekbone. matt closes his eyes, your gentle touch making him forget about the guilt he felt the night he believed he had killed nobu. "just wanna know more about you," you whisper. "what about this one?" you touch a small cut on his forehead, close to his hairline and almost completely faded.

matt's smile widens, his chest rumbling with laughter. you shake with him, the corners of your mouth pulling up when you hear the sweet sound. "i fell down the stairs. freshman year of college," he chuckles.

"really?" you wonder, the sheer idea of matt being anything other than stealthy seemingly impossible. "i don't believe you."

"i'm not always the ninja you claim i am," he grabs your hand and intertwines your fingers, kissing your knuckles. "and i was drunk."

"where was foggy?"

more laughter sputters from his mouth, his nose and the corners of his eyes crinkling with happiness. "still a mystery to this day. but he did come back the next morning with a bagel and a shirt that said 'law school is my boyfriend'."

your shoulders shake as you laugh, your faces drawing together like magnets. you kiss him as you chuckle, your teeth clanking against each other.

"next time you're drunk and near stairs call me," you say once your chuckles died down, smear your lips over the cut. "i'll lead you."

matt hums, his hand squeezing your thigh and pulling it up to his waist. "i'll let you lead me wherever," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

[letterstotheflre]

You’re bored one night and decide to annoy Matt during his daredevil watch and you get him to drop you off food and he eventually agrees bc crime is low and you just hear a crash on your fire escape and look to see a bag of your favorite food place and you send him a little thank you text

please this is so funny

"y/n. y/n. y/n." the monotonous female voice of his phone repeats over and over again. matt huffs, quickly cancelling the call and goes back to observing the neighbourhood.

his ears strain for a shout, a call for help, a gunshot, anything really. but it seems like the criminals of hell's kitchen have taken the night off. he sighs and sits down on the edge of the rooftop, his feet dangling in the air.

"y/n. y/n. y/n." his phone rings agains. matt answers with a frustrated growl, bringing the phone to his ear.

"finally!" you exclaim. "what's a girl gotta do to get matt murdock to answer his phone?"

"what do you want?" he goes straight to the point.

"what, no 'hello, sweetheart'? what happened to manners?"

matt inhales deeply, begging god to give him the patience he needs to deal with you. "i'm on patrol. this better be a matter of life and death."

"trust me, it is." he hears you fall against something, probably your bed. "i'm bored," you sigh.

he blinks, his fingers curling around his phone in disbelief. "you are bored," he repeats disbelievingly. "you've been calling non stop because you're bored." he scrubs his face with one hand. "read a book or watch a movie. i'm trying to do my job here."

"i thought you were a really good lawyer?" he can hear the amusement in your voice, he grinds his teeth. "besides, y'know bothering you is my favourite hobby. oh, will you punish me if i keep talking? i know that's your favourite hobby."

he says your name in warning, the sound spreading a warmth down to your core. you can't help yourself, it's too easy to play with him. "yes, sir?"

matt throws his head back and looks at the sky. was losing his eyesight not punishment enough, god? did he have to deal with you, too? "if you really don't need anything, i'm hanging up."

he brings his phone down and is about to end the call when he catches your shout of "wait!".

you sigh. "could you get me some food, please? i don't want to cook, and i'm so comfy here in bed."

"are you kidding me? you know i'm on patrol."

"it doesn't sound like there's much to patrol," you point out. "pleaaseee, matt. i'll even show you my thanks when you come back home," you sweet talk him.

he stays quiet for a few minutes, paying attention to the silent streets. there's no call for help, nothing. "fine," he says and hangs up, not before hearing your happy squeal and the mwuah! you give him through the phone.

--

if matt had to rate his experience as daredevil in mc donalds, he'd give it 2 stars out of five. he had never heard someone as awkward as the cashier while taking his order, and never mind the confused voice of the girl who called his order number and saw a grown man in a red costume with horns coming out of his head step up.

the things he does for you.

he jumps from rooftop to rooftop to get to your apartment faster, then climbs down the fire escape stairs until he reaches your apartment. he leaves the bag on the windowsill and knocks on the glass, then climbs back up to your rooftop.

he waits, listens to you raise the window up and the crinkling of the paper bag as you take your food out. the smell of fried food fills his nostrils, and he listens to your heart pound a little faster when you see he got your favourite meal.

"thank you, matty," you speak to the air, knowing full well that he's listening to you.

with that, he stands and takes a deep breath to ground himself, then jumps to the next building and heads back to his usual patrol spot, his mind full of ideas for your punishment.

[letterstotheflre]

the teams reaction to you visiting adrian at work and they didn’t really take him seriously when he said he had a gf…

omg this was so fun to write lol. this is literally my first time ever writing for adrian/the peacemaker fandom, so i apologise if the characterisation is shit </3

also rip but i picture adrian as a “babe” kinda guy and it breaks my heart

you knock on the door of the dingy, abandoned building a couple of times then step back, waiting for someone to open it. you bite the inside of your cheek while you look around the street, clutching the paper bag in your hands.

when you hear it open you smile wide, thinking it was adrian. it falters when you see the blonde woman clad in a tight all black outfit.

she gives you a once over, raising her eyebrow at your yellow floral dress and the bag in your hand. "we don't want any cookies," she says, already moving to close the door.

"um, i don't sell any cookies," you tell her. you look down at yourself, wondering if that's what you actually look like.

she leans her shoulder against the frame and shrugs. "are you lost?"

you shake your head, "no, i don't think so." you look at the back of your hand and read the quick scribble you made before leaving the apartment. "is this henenlotter video?" your shoulders relax when she nods. "is adrian here?"

"yeah, he's inside."

you wait for her to let you in but seconds pass in awkward silence and she doesn't move. you sigh, "could i come in?"

with another shrug, she steps aside and lets you in, closing the door behind you. you look around the shop, noticing the clanking of a pipe near a window and the drip of another. there's a big desk in the middle, covered in maps and papers, with a couple of laptops on top of them.

"you have a visitor, chase," the woman says, grabbing a tablet and scrolling through her notes.

adrian turns around in his chair, wearing his costume minus the helmet. his head is thrown back, a pencil balancing on the tip of his nose which wobbles and falls to the floor when he stands to his feet. "babe!" he exclaims and in a series of quick, wide steps, he's standing in front of you. he takes your wrists in his hands, his dimples showing. "what are you doing here?"

"babe?" the guy who sat beside him repeats incredously. he's very muscular, the veins of his arms popping up even if he's not flexing.

you turn your attention back to your boyfriend, feeling four pair of eyes on the two of you. "you forgot your lunch," you whisper, offering him the bag.

he opens it eagerly, taking out the sandwich and inspecting the sides. "no mayo?"

"no mayo," you assure him. "i cut the edges too, except for the top one."

"awesome!" he takes out the rest of the food, looking at the vegetables in the ziplock. he nods to himself when he sees the carrots and cucumbers cut into dinosaur shapes. "you're the best," he praises you, giving you a loud smack on the cheek.

you can't help but blush a little, giving him a shy smile. you wouldn't be so bashful under a normal setting, but he's kissing you in front of his team mates. it's a bit nerve wracking.

"hold on, 'babe'?" the beefy man repeats himself, this time louder so that adrian can hear him.

"oh my god!" he places the bag on the table and grabs you by the shoulders, pushing you in front of him. "my best friend and my girlfriend are finally meeting! babe, this is P-- well, we're not using that nickname anymore. it makes it sound like penis, cause we say 'p and v'. i'm v, obviously-- not obviously, i don't have a vagina or anything, you know that."

"dude, no one says that," a bearded man groans exasperated.

adrian doesn't seem to pay him any mind. "anyway, this is peacemaker. or chris, my BFF forever. chris, this is my girlfriend. my GFF forever."

the man-- chris-- sputters, throwing his hands in the air. "don't say my name, man! way to ruin my secret identity."

"she knows mine. why would she snitch on you?" adrian tilts his head to the side.

"i promise not to say anything," you say meekly.

"wait," the bearded man interrupts. "this is your girlfriend? she's real?"

you frown. "of course i'm real. why wouldn't i be?"

there's an awkward silence that's broken by a dark skinned woman who sits in front of a laptop. "well," she starts awkwardly, "it's just... he's adrian, you know? we weren't very sure he was telling the truth."

your frown deepens and you cross your arms, cocking your hip to the side. "and why would he lie?"

chris laughs loudly. "cause he's weird as fuck. not many people would be willing to date him. harcourt didn't even want to spend a mission with him," he nods to the blonde woman that greeted you.

the black woman gives him a nasty look and turns back to you, trying to difuse the situation once he notices the anger in your face. "what he means is, adrian can be a little too much sometimes, and it was weird he never introduced you before. that's why we weren't too sure he was telling the truth-- clearly he was!" she says quickly when you open your mouth. "and now you're here, and very very real. i'm leota, it’s nice to meet you."

you look at her hesitantly. she seems to be the kindest out of all the people you met today, and you should probably try to make friends with adrian’s friends. or at least be civil with them. “i’m y/n,” you introduce yourself.

[letterstotheflre]

oooo sleepover!!

hm i keep thinking abt being remmy’s passenger seat princess 😩😩 he always drives you everywhere and keeps a hand on your knee while he drives <333 if you ever have any errand you go to him sheepishly and the second he looks at you standing in the doorway of the room he knows what you’re gonna ask

this made me think of this post!! also welcome back gill <3

the sweetness in your voice when you call remus’ name is the first sign that you want something from him.

he sighs, uses one of his fingers as a bookmark and raises his head. you’re all dressed up, swinging back and forth on the balls of your feet. your dress moves with you and flutters around your pretty thighs, your cheeks dusted with blush and your glossy lips are already pouted. you’re clearly going out— scratch that, you’re clearly hoping he’ll take you out to wherever you need to go.

“yes, dove?” he plays ignorant to your motives, wanting to see you squirm when you don’t get your way easily.

you give him a sweet smile. “my clothes arrived.”

he hums and opens his book. “mhm, that’s good. you’ll have to pick ‘em up.”

you try not to let his answer deter you. you bring your hands together and widen your eyes a little. “it’s so far away though…” you try to give him another hint.

remus pretends to read, his eyes scanning the words quickly and turning the pages at an abnormal pace. “there’s always the bus,” he shrugs.

you scowl, stomping your foot in frustration. “rem!”

“yes, bun?” there’s no hiding his amused smirk, his full attention on you now. “is there somethin’ you’re tryna tell me?”

you huff and cross your arms, standing still. “willyoupleasedrivemetothepostoffice?”

he folds the corner of the page and closes the book, leaving it on the coffee table. he stands and walks to you, runs his knuckles along your glimmering cheekbone and tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “y’know i don’t like it when you mumble,” he says. “say it again ‘n i’ll take you.”

you look up at him, your furrowed eyebrows relaxing when you get lost in his pretty green eyes. it’s so easy for him to fold you, takes him seconds to turn you from an angry girlfriend to his good girl.

“will you drive me to the post office, please?” you repeat yourself, eyes going a little hazy when remus gives you that smile he reserves just for you.

you smile once more when he nods, standing on your tiptoes to give him a quick kiss. remus rolls his eyes, reminds you to write down your tracking number and grabs his keys. you walk to his car with linked hands and he opens the door for you.

“put your seatbelt—“ he cuts himself short when he sees you already buckled up. he pats your thigh, “good girl.”

[letterstotheflre]

dying your hair with sirius in the middle of the night :’)

lmao sof i literally had an old draft about this that i was never going to post!!

"it's itchy," you say. you're about to scratch your scalp when sirius slaps your hand away. "hey!"

"don't touch it," he scolds. "and it's supposed to itch, it means it's working. that or it'll start to fall off any second now," he mumbles the last part to himself, but you manage to hear it perfectly fine.

"what?!" your eyes widen, heart stuttering in fear as you stare at your boyfriend through the mirror.

sirius just laughs, tying the handles of a plastic bag around your chin to keep the heat in. "m'just joking, angel. don't ya worry, your hair will be all pretty in a couple of hours."

it's not pretty. after waiting 40 minutes for the bleach to work, sirius helps you wash it off, grimacing to himself when he sees the pale roots and the bright yellow ends. there's even some strands that have a hint of orange.

he'd be happy you haven't noticed yet if he knew you'd remain ignorant for the rest of your life. however, blissful ignorance only lasts so long.

"oh my god!" you scream, turning to look at sirius. "sirius, you said you knew what you were doing! oh my god... oh jesus, no." you touch your hair softly, almost like you're cradling an injured baby.

"well, technically i've only used dye, y'know. not bleach," he scratches the back of his neck. when he notices the murderous look in your eyes, he gulps and scrambles for a solution. "b-but the purple dye will cover it, so it doesn't matter! i think..."

you take a deep breath and remind yourself that your neighbours are likely to call the cops if they hear a man screaming for his life at 2am on a saturday. once the urge to murder your boyfriend goes back to zero, you say, "just... get the dye and pray i don't make you sleep in the dog house."

sirius gasps, puts his hand on his chest in mock betrayal. "you wouldn't dare."

your face is devoid of any joking trace, though. "try me, doggy."

[letterstotheflre]

barista!remus writing some sweet message on ur coffee cup?:)

the whirring of the coffee machines and the background music fade to nothing every time you fleet your eyes towards the pretty barista manning the cash register.

you follow his hand as it combs back his fluffy hair, his fingers then gripping the marker and writing down the customer's order on the side of the cup. his hand almost swallows the small cup and you gulp, wondering how his hand might feel on your skin. maybe around your throat?

"iced latte for y/n!" the barista in charge of delivering the coffees calls.

you startle to life, practically jumping in place before you scramble to the desk in the corner. you pretend to miss the light chuckle from your left, your heart stuttering when you match it to remus'.

you've heard him laugh before, a sound so beautiful you wonder why there's even a music industry when all you need is to listen to him throw his head back and laugh. what's even more important-- he laughed at some silly comment you made the other week, his eyes shining with something lovely when he greeted you and recited your order before you even had the chance to speak.

your eyes go to him once more, and you offer him an embarrassed smile before quickly grabbing your order and heading to the small area next to you so you can add your sweetener.

as you swirl the sweetener around, your eyes catch a quick scrawl on one side of the cup that shouldn't be there. you drop the wooden stick and take a closer look.

your hair looks beautiful -R

with heated cheeks, you run your hand over your braids, feeling the soft petals of the wildflowers from your shop beneath your fingertips. you quickly put the lid back on and turn around, finding remus already staring at you.

your heart pounds as he smiles gently at you. you return the gesture and take a sip of your coffee, then walk out the door and cross the street to your shop.

tomorrow, you promise yourself. you grab the stem of a purple lilac and twirl it with your fingers. tomorrow you'll give him your number.

[letterstotheflre]

this is so specific but how would sirius react to finding out you’re not a virgin but you haven’t had sex in 3 years so ur kind of a born again virgin and now ur nervous to have sex LMAO pls 🙏🙏🙏🙏

LMAOOO this is so specific but i’ve been there too girlie, it’s okay. i don’t know what to write about this though but he would definitely 1) laugh at you 2) say something stupid like he’s gonna re-take your virginity, but then he’d actually be soft with you bc you tell him you’re scared </3 like he’d go slow and try to hold back all of his roughness but if you start to cry a little at the pain… rip to your coochie </3

[letterstotheflre]

hello my loves! i have a free weekend and possibly monday too, so i thought we could have a fun lil sleepover <33 so send in any marauder thoughts and i'll write a tiny blurb for it!

note: ik you guys love smut but i'm also in quite a fluffy mood, so try not to send to many smutty thoughts lol. and please no angst <3

[candyello]

humina humina

for the sleepover, matt finding u in his clothes, like his boxers and that blue zip up of his and he just loves it SO much, like other girlfriends haven’t done it, he thinks ur so adorable and cannot keep his hands off u

um.. this took a bit of a turn lmao sorry if it’s not what you were expecting

cw: hints of primal play and making out

matt pauses at the door, his brows furrowed as he takes in the smells of his apartment.

there’s always the scent of his laundry detergent, mixed with the traces of blood that cling to the air after his patrol nights. there’s also his cologne, and of course his own body scent that clings to his sheets and dirty clothes, and he can’t forget the smell of coffee in the mornings and nights.

but usually, there’s your shampoo and conditioner too. raspberry and a hint of mint. not to mention all the chemicals from your skincare products, and the delicious and warm scents from whatever you cook for dinner. and of course, your own body scent— his favourite smell out of all of them.

except there’s no trace of your natural smell when he stepped inside his apartment. he listens to the strange silence, his heart pounding at the thought that something happened to you. that fisk got to you and took you from him, the same way he threatened to take vanessa from him that one time.

he exhales when he makes out a soft humming coming from the kitchen, his head bowing down in relief. now that he’s relaxed, he notices the clinking of a whisk against a metal bowl, the soft wet sounds of milk and melted butter swirling around soft flour and grainy sugar.

he takes off his suit jacket and rests his walking stick against the wall and walks in your direction, unbuttoning the sleeves of his shirt and rolling them up to his elbows. he takes his glasses off and hangs them on the pocket of his dress shirt.

“what are you making?” he asks you.

you scream in surprise, jumping in the air and turning around all at the same time. matt laughs, leaning his hip against the counter. “don’t scare me like that!” you clutch your chest, your heart beating erratically. matt keeps chuckling, so you walk towards him and slap his chest. “it’s not funny. you could’ve given me a heart attack.”

“it’s a bit funny,” there’s a smile playing on his lips.

your fingers play with the collar of his shirt, your hip now also resting on the counter. “it’s only funny when i do it to you,” you pout.

his smile widens at that. he tilts his head and leans down so that you’re face to face, “that doesn’t sound fair.”

“hmm, never said i was,” you’re smiling too, your feet rising to their tiptoes without prompt. your lips brush against each other as you whisper, “missed you.”

matt leans forward and presses your lips together, taking your breath for himself. your hands go to his shoulders, then link themselves together at the back of his neck, keeping him in place.

his hands go to your waist, and he’s about to pull you even closer to him, maybe even place you on the counter when he touches the fabric.

he stops kissing you, his eyes open and staring forward as he realises you’re not wearing your clothes. the fabric that covers your body is too soft, a bit cold to the touch, nothing compared to the usual cotton clothing you usually wear.

“matt?” you ask worriedly, leaning back a little so that you can look at him. his hands move all over your body, trying to make out the piece you’re wearing just with his touch.

he notices a row of buttons on the front, his hands running from your tummy up to your chest. there’s a collar there, and when he strokes your arms he notices the sleeves end at your elbows, rolled up just like his.

“you’re wearing my shirt,” he mumbles, mostly to himself, once he identifies the fabric as satin. then his hands go to your thighs, feels the microfibre that makes up his boxers. “and my underwear.”

the heatwaves that make up your silhouette in his mind turn red almost immediately. “i— yeah. i didn’t have any clean clothes left…”

“that’s why i couldn’t smell you,” he realises. at your confused sound, he explains, “i couldn’t smell you when i came in. i thought— i thought something happened to you. that fisk—“ he shakes his head, ridding his mind from that scenario. “you’re covered in my scent.”

there’s something so arousing about the way he says it. he never thought he’d like something like that, the idea of covering his partner in his scent until their own was indistinguishable even for him. but it’s you, his sweet girl, wearing his clothes and voluntarily bathing yourself in his smell.

he can’t help it, he noses the soft curve of your neck and breathes in deeply, fills his lungs with air that smells of him. he growls, tries to fight the urge to sink his teeth in your skin but it’s too strong.

you gasp when he bites down, the pit of your stomach swirling with heat at the sounds he makes. he turns you around until you’re pressed against the counter, rolls his hips against yours so you can feel how hard he is for you.

all because you wore his clothes.

“matt,” you tap his shoulder, moaning when he sucks on your sweet spot. his mouth goes down to your chest, marking the exposed skin with red bruises. “matt, the batter.”

one of the sleeves falls down, exposing your shoulder. matt kisses from your chest, over your clavicle and up to your shoulder, sinking his teeth once more. you mewl, arching your back when he runs his tongue over the bite mark.

“later.” he picks you up and you wrap your legs around his waist, takes you to his room in record time. “have to mark you from the inside, now.”