h3arts4harry

[h3arts4harry]

Just us again

Chapter 1: more than friends, less than lovers

Matt’s voice carries through the house like it always does—loud, a little raspy, full of energy like the camera’s still rolling even though it stopped ten minutes ago.

I sit on the floor of his room, half-listening, half-hoping he won’t notice I’ve been staring at the same screen on my phone for the past five minutes.

“Okay, I seriously think that was the funniest video we’ve filmed in forever,” he says, flopping onto his bed like gravity doesn’t apply to him.

I smile, eyes still on my phone. “Yeah. You guys were unhinged.”

Matt laughs, that soft breathy kind of laugh that feels like home now. “Unhinged is the brand.”

He stretches out across the bed, his arm dangling off the side, fingers grazing the carpet where my hand rests. I don’t move, even though my brain is screaming at me to. His fingertips barely brush mine, warm and easy, like it doesn’t mean anything.

It does.

To me, it does.

“You good?” he asks, turning his head to look down at me. “You’ve been quiet.”

I glance up, caught in that moment where his hair’s a mess, his eyes are soft, and I feel like the only person in the world who gets to see him like this. “I’m always quiet.”

“Yeah, but like… quiet quiet.” He lifts a brow. “Something on your mind?”

You.

But I smile and say, “Just tired.”

He nods like he gets it. Maybe he does. He always kind of does.

Matt sits up suddenly, cross-legged now, his energy bouncing back like a rubber band. “Okay, be honest—what part of the video was the funniest?”

I shrug. “Probably when Nick walked into the wall trying to do that cartwheel.”

Matt snorts, tipping backward with a wheeze-laugh that makes me grin without meaning to.

“Dude, I had to cut out, like, three minutes of us just dying,” he says. “I looked at Chris and started crying.”

“I know. I was there.”

He nudges me with his sock-covered foot. “And still, you barely cracked a smile.”

“I’m mysterious,” I say flatly, and he grins.

“Nah, you’re just scared the camera’s gonna catch you laughing.”

He’s right. That is a fear of mine. Not the laughing part—but being caught off guard. Caught being real.

“I like it better back here,” I mumble, motioning vaguely to the safe zone behind the camera.

Matt doesn’t say anything right away. I look up and catch him staring—not in a weird way. In that quiet, thoughtful way he does when he’s figuring out how far he can go without pushing too hard.

“You know I’d never make you do anything on camera, right?” he says softly.

I nod.

“I mean it.”

“I know.”

And I do. He’s always been careful with me. He teases, sure, but never crosses the line. Never makes me feel like I have to be anyone else.

We fall into a lull. Just the quiet hum of his fan and some faint street noise outside the window. It’s always like this with Matt—loud and chaotic one second, soft and still the next.

I don’t know how he does it. Makes me feel safe and nervous all at once.

He shifts a little, reaching for his laptop. “Wanna help me go through footage?”

I blink. “Me? Really?”

“Yeah. You’ve got taste,” he says, nudging me again. “I trust your eye.”

That makes something warm bloom in my chest. I scoot closer, sitting beside him now, knees nearly touching. His laptop rests between us, and the second he presses play, his face lights up like a kid watching fireworks.

He narrates everything as he watches—laughing at Chris, groaning at himself, rewinding the dumbest parts just to laugh harder.

I mostly watch him.

Not in a creepy way. Just in a can’t help it kind of way.

He gets so into it—his expressions changing every second, eyes wide, mouth moving like he’s still mid-joke even when he’s not talking.

At one point, he catches me watching and pauses the video.

“What?” he asks, a little breathless from laughing.

I shake my head quickly. “Nothing.”

“Were you just staring at me?”

Panic. Actual panic.

“I was watching the screen.”

He grins, smug. “Mhm. Sure.”

My cheeks burn. “Shut up.”

Matt laughs again but lets it go. The video resumes, but now I can’t focus. My heart is too loud, and his smile is too bright.

Eventually, the video ends, and the room feels bigger without the noise. Matt leans back on his hands, staring at the ceiling.

“I missed this,” he says quietly.

I glance at him. “This?”

“You. Hanging out. Just us.”

I don’t know what to say. The truth is—I missed it too. So much it physically hurt some days.

Lately, it’s always been someone else around. The boys, the cameras, the fans. And I love watching him do what he loves. I really do. But there are days I feel like I’m watching from behind glass—close enough to see him, never close enough to keep him.

“Me too,” I whisper.

He looks over at me then, really looks. His expression shifts into something I can’t quite read—soft and unsure and maybe a little scared.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he says.

And for a second, I think maybe he means more than just the room.

But I don’t ask.

I don’t push.

Because we’re just friends.

And I’m not supposed to want more.

[h3arts4harry]

COFFEE ADDICT. . . personalassistant!chris blurb.

How could you not notice is the question, really.

He always has his cup on him. Filled to the brim with blonde roast coffee, oat milk, no creamer, and whatever foam he decided to make that morning. How do you know all that? Because he spilled it you, in one of the very few times you've gotten him to stop being shy with you.

He went on and on about all the different types of coffee he likes, how he has a coffee machine and a barista milk frother, and how he started recently making syrups for his coffee.

It's none of your business. You could honestly care less about how much coffee that man consumes in a day.

But, you also can't have your personal assistant dying on you.

Your eyes were on him as he got back from making his afternoon office coffee. Yes, there's a difference.

"Chris," You caught him taking a sip from his coffee, and a raised eyebrow is sent your way. "Can we talk for a sec?"

He blinks as a baby pink color spreads across his cheeks, ".....am I fired?" He asks, slowly stepping to your desk. "Uh, no— that's not what I wanna talk about."

"Then...?"

"How much coffee do you drink in a day?" He blinks at you once. Then twice. "...what?"

You repeat the question, "six cups..? I- I'm sorry, what is that about?" He asks, face as flushed as a tomato. "I'm putting you on a coffee ban."

"What?" He exclaims. "I— you can't just—"

"The amount of coffee that you intake in one day isn't healthy. You're literally shaking right now, Chris." His lips form into a pout, "I- I'm fine I promise... I've been doing this since high-school." He admits and your eyes have never been so wide.

"After that cup of coffee, you're officially on coffee ban." A whine leaves his lips, a whine. "...okay." He murmurs, sadly making his way to his desk.

It feels like you just kicked a puppy. "Just- just slow down on the coffee, alright? You're not on coffee ban."

His eyes light up immediately, cup of coffee finding his lips again. "Okay!"

a/n: he's so when you're gone by the cranberries

tags 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚: @inspiredangel @domizmez @drewswife @strnilolover @sirensdollesque @courta13 @mattslilies @sturns-mermaid @bluetalia @pair-of-pantaloons @y2kstarr @sugarraez @sweeethrt @moond0llie @ambi-squirrelly @wastelandzella @applecidersturniolo @riasturns @iloveduckssm @oopsiedaisydeer @cayleeuhithinknott @h3arts4nat @angelyearner @pink1man @mi-co-uk @slvt4subchratt @tezzzzzzzz @chrisbratt333 @izzylovesmatt @chrisowenmuncher @bluestriips

[h3arts4harry]

I think I just creamed, someone help me.

[h3arts4harry]

why is no one talking about this 😭😭😭

[h3arts4harry]

how about a rock on my finger?

a part of you remembers a time when chris told his brothers— nate included,— and their whole platform that he would simply not cry during his wedding, and that he didn’t understand the hype in general.

but now, standing face to face with that same man, it’s seems he was a total liar.

you look at him in awe as the lights twinkled around you two, family and friends surrounding the floor that the two of you stood on. iris by the goo goo dolls hummed through the speakers in varying spots around the room— successfully submersing you in the moment.

your arms were hooked around his neck while his hands rested gently on your waist, but he still somehow managed to make you feel like you’d never be let go despite his soft mannerism.

swaying in unison as everyone’s attention was focused solely on you guys, you watch chris’ eyes fill with love and devotion. his suit jacket was long forgotten— laying on the backrest of his chair, which left him in his half-unbuttoned button up and black tie. you saw the way his eyes periodically shifted to your white dress, flowing gracefully across the floor.

“im so in love with you…” you hear him whisper faintly in your ear. what you’re not certain if you heard, however, was the tiny sniffle that came with it.

you maneuver your head to catch the small glint on his cheek, rolling like a delicate raindrop. the corners of your lips twist into a smile— but not in the teasing way, in the most purest, tender, intimate way.

“you big baby,” you coo, your own eyes filling with tears of love. he smiles back, rubbing your lower back with his hands.

“if i had all this to do over again… i’d find my way back to you, over and over baby, i promise.” he professed, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead.

a small pout of warmth spread on your face, causing you to bury your face in the crook of his neck. his hand came up to rest on the back of your head, caressing it gently.

“im just so happy its you.” the whisper came out of your mouth as you lifted your head once more, reaching a hand up to brush a salty tear that tried to escape from his cheek. you shook the dot of runny sodium off your finger before placing a gentle kiss where the tear previously stood.

you swayed slowly as the world seemingly condensed down to just the two of them, but that’s all that mattered anyway.

a/n — work song started playing while writing this and now im lowk crying? anywho ! is this ass? idk

[h3arts4harry]

Same Chris

[h3arts4harry]

ready, set, goon!!

[h3arts4harry]

what the fuck. i PROUDLY volunteer!!!!!!!

[h3arts4harry]

i’ve been waiting for someone to mention the nate pic 😛

[h3arts4harry]

before it hurts 𝜗𝜚 matthew sturniolo

cw— pussy eating, matt with piercings.

opening your front door is always scary because you never know what's waiting for you: a serial killer, a long-awaited package, a friend, family, or even your boyfriend. with a new piece of jewelry twinkling around his thin eyebrow. your own eyebrows furrowed and your jaw went slack. “what the fuck?” you say, giving him a warm welcome into your home. the new addition distracted you from the bouquet in his hands, which was soon to be on your countertop.

his keys rattled against the marble as he placed his belongings down. “saw a tiktok and found a shop that took walk-ins.” “only 50 bucks,” he bragged, smiling as he sat on your couch. “50 bucks for one piercing is insane, you got scammed, bad,” you sigh as you straddle him. holding his fuzzy face, your hands move his head in every direction so you could get a closer look at him and his new friend. “did i?” he asks, sticking his tongue out. showing you the silver ball in the center of his tongue. 

speechless. absolutely gobsmacked. he looked so good. like panty wetting good. “holy fuck, did it hurt” you ask, your curiosity still getting the best of you.  snickering, he shakes his head. messing up his curled hair in the process. “nah but it should be soon, according to the piercer” “did you wanna eat something before it starts? i have food in the fridge or we could order something” gripping your waist tighter and pulling you closer, matt grins stupidly. “yeah i could eat” 

before you could speak, matt flipped you onto the soft couch cushions. his silver chained dangled over your face as he hovered over you, lust filled blue eyes scanning your features. “matt, c'mon you know what i meant.” you groan, hoping he didn't notice your squirming or your thighs squeezing together at the mention of getting head.  “yeah and i don't really care. i want to eat you.” your protests go to waste within seconds as he leans in, plush lips engulfing yours for a messy kiss.

your tongues swap spit passionately as the kiss gets deeper, matt’s face smushing with yours as he moves. your hands find his neck as he pulls away, taking a deep breath before trailing his kisses down your neck, lips feeling hot against your skin. his hands grope your tits through your thin shirt as he moves down your body. you moan at his rough touch, the sound bringing a smirk to his lips. “saving these for later,” he mumbles, forcing himself to move away from your breasts.

his fingers dig into your thighs, spreading them and marking the insides with ease. your attention remained on the pierced boy as he kissed above the waistband of your shorts, his movements slow and calculated. his mouth opened in what you thought to be a sloppier kiss. wrong. his perfect teeth sank into the fabric to get a good grip before he pulled. "asshole. what if i liked these shorts, huh?" you whine, grabbing his hair in retaliation. he only spared you an annoyed glance before stripping you bare.

matt was salivating at the sight of you under him, so perfect, so irresistible, so much so that he wished he could take his time with you. the cold metal sent shockwaves throughout your lower half as he licked long and wet stripes along your inner thighs. your moans were already filling the air, and he hadn't even touched you where you needed. leaning closer in between your legs he sniffs your pussy, letting the smell fill his lungs before he feasts on it.

his tongue took your breath away, for the second time today, you were rendered speechless. matt was always talented with his mouth, but this was on a different level. his muscle moved slow and fast at the same time and focused on touching every part of your pussy. the tip of his tongue flicked at your clit, adding to the arousal that collected from the prior makeout. your fingers play in his dark hair as he eats like a starved man, moaning and groaning into you like you were his last meal.

“shit shit—matt—fuck” you moan, feeling his nose brush your senstive clit as he licks all inside your folds. the metal ball glides smoothly inside and around your pussy, the movements picking up your wetness with ease. he mumbles something that you couldn't hear before bringing his fingers up to spread you wide. you could see the determination in his features, and it turned you on. “don't even care if it starts hurting. i'm not gonna stop,” he grunts, diving back in for more.

[h3arts4harry]

— 𝜗ৎ wildflower . . . c.s

in which . . . you see your ex boyfriend chris and his new girlfriend, your ex best friend at a party and confront them.

warnings . . . mentions of alcohol and being drunk, unresolved angst, slight panic attack, chris is kinda mean at first.

written by @delilahsturniolo. do not copy, steal, or modify my works. if you are taking any inspiration from this, please ask me first before posting and credit me in your description. happy reading! :)

HIT ME HARD AND SOFT WRITING MARATHON . . . fic #5

the music is too loud. the lights are too bright. and he’s standing too close. you weren’t even supposed to come tonight. but your friends begged, said it would be fun, said you needed to get out. said he probably won’t even be there.

liars. he’s across the room when you first notice him, red solo cup in one hand, other lazily resting on her waist. her. your old friend. the one who swore up and down she’d never touch him, who cried with you the night everything fell apart, who told you he didn’t deserve you. she’s wearing a necklace similar to the one he bought you last summer.

you swallow down the ache, grab whatever drink is closest, and pretend to laugh at a joke you don’t hear. your heart is already racing. not from love. from rage. he sees you before you see him walking over. his jaw clenched like it always is when he’s about to start something. the same walk. the same eyes. but not the same boy. “what’re you glaring at me for? like what you see?” he says flatly, voice slurred just a little. you blink. “fuck you.”

“yeah?” he scoffs, tilting his head. “you came here just to start something?”

“no,” you snap. “i came here to forget you exist.” he laughs then, bitter and small. “looks like that’s going great for you.” you hate him. god, you hate how familiar he still feels. how fast he can reach inside you and pull every buried thing to the surface. you bite the inside of your cheek, fists clenched. “does she know?” he frowns. “know what?”

“that you cried when i left?” you whisper, stepping closer. “that you begged me to stay? that you said you didn’t even love her?”

“shut up,” he says, quieter now.

“you told me it was always me,” you breathe. “and now you’re playing house with her like none of it meant anything.” his lips part like he wants to deny it. like he wants to tell the truth. but she’s there. behind him. watching. you turn to her. “you told me i deserved better. now you’re fucking him. so which one of us is the liar?” her mouth opens, but no words come out. she just shakes her head, glances at him, then walks away. she doesn’t even look back. she knew she crossed the line.

you feel it all at once. the betrayal. the heartbreak. the way your throat tightens until breathing feels like a chore. your vision blurs and you’re not sure if it’s the alcohol or the tears or the weight of every word you wish you hadn’t said. you try to walk away too, but your legs aren’t listening. “hey—” chris’s voice cuts through the static. “wait. wait, what’s going on?”

you stumble, lean against the wall, pressing your palms into your eyes. “i can’t—fuck—i can’t do this.” he reaches for you, hands hovering. “stop it, stop. calm down.” you don’t answer. can’t. you’re shaking and everything is too much and he’s too close and not close enough.

he doesn’t ask again. he just moves. arms around you. steady and warm and infuriatingly safe. he holds you like he used to, like you’re something breakable. like he’s afraid you already are. “c’mon,” he murmurs, voice low near your ear. “i’m taking you home.”

you try to protest, but it’s useless. he’s already guiding you through the crowd, shielding you from the stares, leaving his girlfriend behind. the cold air outside hits like a slap, but it’s easier to breathe out here. you sit in the passenger seat of his car, knees to your chest, while he drives in silence.

“you okay?” he asks after a while.

you turn your head, eyes red, voice hollow. “do i look okay?”

he nods like he deserves that. “i’m sorry.” you stare out the window. “for what?” he hesitates. “everything.” you laugh, but it’s not happy. it’s empty. “too late for that.” the car pulls up in front of your place. you unbuckle, about to get out, but he grabs your wrist gently.

“i miss you,” he whispers. “even now.” you hate him for saying that. you hate him for meaning it. because you still feel it too. even after everything. even after he ruined you. but you don’t say anything. you just get out and shut the door behind you, letting the silence swallow the things you’re too tired to scream. and he stays there, in the car. watching.

waiting.

too late.

too much.

too far gone.

like a wildflower trying to bloom in the wrong season.

© delilahsturniolo

💌: DID I CROSSSSSS THE LINEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE???????????

[h3arts4harry]

tag teamed m. s & c. s

in which . . . matt suggests a threesome with his brother chris, which made you hesitant at first. key word: at first.

content warnings . . . threesome ( zero incest. that’s disgusting. ) dizziness, oral, p in v, roughness, basically hardcore smut

matt brings it up one night, voice barely above a whisper. it’s late—way past midnight—and the sheets are tangled around your legs, his arms warm and clumsy around your waist. you’re scrolling through your phone, half-listening to him mumble, until he says it.

“would you ever… like… i don’t know. like a threesome?”

you turn your head. “with who?”

“me,” he swallows, “and chris.”

you blink. “your brother?”

“i mean—only if you wanted to! you don’t have to, like, it was just a thought i—i don’t know, i shouldn’t’ve said anything, it’s stupid—”

it takes another full week for it to become real. because matt is sweet and soft-spoken, because he second-guesses himself even while kissing your throat. but chris? chris is the opposite. cocky. unapologetic. he hears about the idea and shrugs like it’s already happening.

“you sure you can handle that, pretty girl?” he asks when matt brings it up again in front of him. you can’t tell if the question’s for you or matt.

they don’t rush. you thought it would be fast, wild, messy—but it starts gentle. because matt needs it to be. because he looks at you like you’re made of something delicate, and chris lets him take the lead even if he clearly wants to wreck you first.

you’re on the bed in matt’s room, soft light casting gold shadows over everything. matt’s mouth is warm on yours, tentative, like he’s still scared to do this wrong. chris leans against the door, arms crossed, watching like it’s a private screening.

“you okay?” matt whispers into your lips. you nod. he swallows again. “i just want you to feel good.”

his fingers are slow. familiar. they ghost over your skin like he’s mapping every breath, and when you arch into his palm, his eyes flutter shut. he doesn’t even realize chris is moving closer until you both hear his low laugh.

“you gonna keep her all night, or am i allowed to touch too?”

matt doesn’t answer. but he nods.

chris kisses you different. like he wants to leave a mark, make a memory, brand your body so you know the difference. his hands are everywhere—faster, rougher—and he doesn’t ask permission before sliding your legs apart and mouthing at the inside of your thigh.

“so fucking sweet,” he says against your skin, voice thick. “clearly you’ve got matt wrapped around your finger.”

matt’s behind you, holding your hand while chris works you open. his face is flushed pink, but his eyes never leave yours. he kisses your temple and murmurs, “tell me if it’s too much, okay?” he means it. he would stop. he would ask.

chris doesn’t stop. not unless you tell him to. and you don’t.

you’re on your hands and knees now, the room hazy with heat and sweat and low moans. chris is behind you—in you—and every stroke is deliberate, hungry. his grip on your hips is bruising, but it only fuels the slick heat building in your core. he’s got one hand tangled in your hair, the other spread across your lower back, pinning you exactly where he wants you.

“fuck, you feel insane,” chris groans, hips snapping forward, cock dragging against every sensitive nerve inside you. “makes snese why matt’s always so fucking whipped for you.”

matt’s in front of you, lying back on the bed, flushed and shaky, his thighs spread. his cock is hard and twitching under your tongue, every lick making him whimper. he’s got both hands on your head but isn’t guiding—just holding, grounding himself, fingers trembling as you take him deeper.

“baby,” matt gasps, eyes locked on yours, “fuck—you’re so perfect like this—”

chris thrusts deeper at that exact second and your moan vibrates around matt’s cock. his hips jerk, and he almost pulls away, but you keep him there, hollowing your cheeks, eyes watering with the stretch. spit pools at the corner of your mouth, your throat fluttering around him.

behind you, chris gives a dark laugh. “look at her,” he mutters, voice hoarse. “messy little mouth, taking him so sweet, dripping all over my dick. you like this, huh? being used by both of us?”

you nod, choked moan muffled by matt’s cock. matt’s already close—you can feel it, the way his thighs are tense, how his fingers twitch in your hair. but he doesn’t want to finish yet. he pulls out with a gasp, breathing hard, cock flushed and wet.

“wait,” he pants. “i want—i want to be inside you too.”

you barely have time to process before chris pulls out with a filthy smack and grabs your chin, turning your face up. he kisses you hard—rough, greedy—and tastes the salt of matt’s skin on your tongue.

“switch,” he says, low.

matt kisses your cheek as he guides you down to lie on your back, whispering your name like an apology. his hand strokes between your thighs, tender where chris was rough. he lines himself up and slides into you slowly, watching every inch disappear inside. your walls clench around him, slick and overstimulated, and he groans into your neck.

“still so wet,” he breathes. “you feel even better than i remembered—”

chris kneels beside your head, cock hard and leaking. he rubs the tip across your lips, and you open for him like instinct. his voice is a low growl. “yeah… just like that.”

matt moves gently, hips rolling slow and deep, hitting that spot inside that makes your breath stutter. he keeps one hand on your breast, thumb brushing your nipple, the other gripping your thigh to keep you open. his eyes are locked on your face—watching, memorizing every twitch and gasp as chris begins to fuck your mouth.

they don’t touch each other. (‘cause that’s fucking disgusting.)

but they both fuck you.

your body is shaking. your throat full. your cunt pulsing tight around matt as his rhythm stutters. he whispers your name again, voice breaking.

“i can’t—fuck—i’m gonna come—”

you pull back from chris, gasping for air, spit stringing from your lips to the head of his cock. your nails dig into matt’s shoulders and your hips arch up, crying out as he pushes in deep one last time and spills inside you with a trembling moan.

he doesn’t pull out right away. just stays there, forehead pressed to yours, breathing hard.

“thank you,” he whispers. “i love you.”

chris chuckles low from beside you. “you done?” he asks matt, already fisting himself. “’cause i’m not.”

your eyes flutter open—exhausted, raw, but greedy—and chris catches your look and smirks.

“that’s what i thought.”

he flips you over like you weigh nothing, presses your face into the pillows, and fucks you so hard your voice breaks.

and still—matt stays close. holds your hand. kisses your shoulder. watches you fall apart again.

between them, you’re everything.

and you’ve never felt more wanted.

a / n . . . is this a crazy time to mention my boyfriends thirty-one? i know i just wrote some dirty ass smut but being nineteen i’m just realizing this could be a fetish for him 😐

[h3arts4harry]

guys this is actually so funny😭😭😭

[h3arts4harry]

⟡ SQUIRT FOR ME ౨ৎ 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐

⤷ 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐦

⤷ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤, 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞, 𝐩𝐞𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬, 𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐬𝐦𝐬

you can't help but let out a soft moan as you lean back against the kitchen counter, the cold surface sending a delicious shiver down your spine. your heart is racing, and your chest is heaving with each labored breath you take. the dim kitchen is lit only by the moonlight streaming in through the window.

matts voice, husky and low, breaks through the charged silence that clings to the air. "you're so beautiful like this," he murmurs, his gaze locked onto yours. "tell me what you want."

you can't form words, your mind a jumbled mess of need and want, but you don't need to. your body speaks volumes, and matt listens intently. he presses a searing kiss to your neck, his lips trailing down to the hollow of your collarbone. his teeth graze the sensitive skin there, causing you to arch into him, seeking more of his touch. “w—want you so badly…” you murmur.

with deft fingers, he unbuttons your jeans, pulling them down along with your panties in one swift motion. the cool air of the kitchen hits your bare skin, making you gasp. you lift your legs, hooking them around his waist as he supports your weight with ease. the way he holds you, so sure and steady, it's as if you're weightless.

matt slides a finger inside you, and your eyes flutter shut at the sensation. he's gentle, but not hesitant. he knows exactly how to touch you, how to make you moan and writhe against him. another finger joins the first, and you can't help but rock your hips against his hand, desperate for more.

a desperate urge takes hold of you, urging you to grind down harder on his fingers, to chase the pleasure that's building inside you like a storm on the horizon. matt watches you, his eyes glinting with desire as he feels your inner walls clenching around his fingers.

"god, you're so tight," he growls, adding a third finger and curving them just so. the sensation is overwhelming, too much and not enough all at once. you cry out, the sound echoing off the kitchen walls. it's too much, but it's also not enough. you need...more.

"matt," you gasp, pleading. "i need...i need more."

matt doesn't need to be told twice. he withdraws his fingers and lines himself up at your entrance. you feel him press against you, and then with a firm thrust, he's inside you. the stretch is exquisite, filling you completely.

you wrap your arms around his neck, holding on for dear life as he starts to move. each thrust is deep and deliberate, sending waves of pleasure cascading through you. his hands are on your ass, guiding you against him, increasing the friction with each movement.

your moans turn into cries as he hits that spot inside you, the one that makes stars explode behind your eyelids. you can't catch your breath, can't think. all you can do is feel.

and then it happens. a familiar sensation. it starts low in your belly, a building pressure that threatens to explode. it's intense and overwhelming, but it feels so good.

"matt," you whisper, your voice trembling. "i...i think i'm going to..."

but before you can finish, it hits you. a gush of warmth floods your senses, and you're squirting for the first time in your life. your vision blurs, and your whole body tenses as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you.

matt doesn't stop. he doesn't falter. instead, he groans and continues to move, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he chases his own release. he's so turned on by what's happening, by the way your body is reacting to him. his hands grip your hips tighter, his nails digging into your flesh as he loses himself in the moment.

"fuck love, that was so hot…you're amazing," he grunts, his voice laced with raw desire. "cum for me again."

his words are like magic, sparking another wave of orgasmic bliss that leaves you breathless and writhing in his arms. you're crying out his name, tears streaming down your face as the pleasure becomes too much to bear.

finally, with one last thrust, matt finds his release inside you. he's moaning your name, his body shaking as he comes undone. he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin.

as the aftershocks of your orgasms slowly fade away, you cling to matt, your heart still racing with the intensity of what just happened. the room is filled with the sounds of your heavy breathing, the smell of sex hangs heavy in the air.

matt pulls back slightly, looking down at you with a gentle smile on his face. "that was so hot," he whispers, his voice full of wonder. you nod, still trying to catch your breath. "it was," you agree, your voice hoarse.

he pulls out slowly, the loss of him inside you leaving you feeling empty and wanting more. but as he wraps his arms around you, holding you close, you know that this isn't the end. this is just the beginning.

© chrisdoll

💌: @chrislova

[h3arts4harry]

all tied up. . . bsf!matt.

It was a joke.

Something that you spilled over a few drinks with Matt, sitting in your bed watching a movie that neither of you were particularly paying attention to.

"I took classes." You murmur, sipping from the wine you poured. "Classes? To learn how to tie people up?"

"Yeah?" He chuckles, "Bet you can't tie me up."

And now you're here, your best friend under you whining and huffing like a dog as you grind down on him, more and more noises falling from his lips as you tease him.

"C'mon—" He whines, "C-can make you feel so good, sweetheart— jus', just gotta untie me—" He strains against the rope, thrashing and squirming underneath you.

You're quick to that shut that down.

"You wanna cum tonight? You'll take what I give you." He whimpers, a sound that neither of you knew he could make.

It makes you smirk. You know that Matt isn't used to this, not being in control. His sex life is as game as yours when it comes to conversation.

"You can take it, can't you?" You whisper into his ear, "Not being in control for one night?"

He whines again at your teasing words, nodding eagerly. "I— I can— I— just, please... I wanna cum." He trails off on the last part, words becoming a embarrassing mumble.

Matt shudders as your lips trail down his neck, your lips leaving a trail of fire in their wake. "I... need to cum."

"But I'm not done with you."

"W-what?"

"You're not cumming until I'm done with you, and I've barely even started." You coo, trailing your finger down his chest. "I need to break you in first."

He squirms under you again, desperately pushing at the rope. "You said you could take it, Matt."

You press a soft kiss to his lips, one that makes him let out a feathery gasp. "So you're gonna take it."

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[h3arts4harry]

i would let this man literally do ANYTHING to me. im absolutely busted.

[h3arts4harry]

dream eiffel tower 😛😛😛