5 Green flags 🟩 VS 5 Red Flags 🟥
I'M BACK 👹
Well well, My last post about Keigo have lots of support from you all, and like I said, I'm willing to do a part 2 about Bakugo Katsuki sooo, here I am.
Tell me if you want a part 3 and which character you would like.
Let's start with his red flags. Let's be clear that Katsuki does have a few, it's true that it's nice to imagine him as an attentive boyfriend who takes the initiative, and I firmly believe that he would be like that, but that shouldn't hide the little things he has that can get on your nerves at the time of a fight.
Now, let's start listing his bad things:
1. He acts like you're a burden: I don't think he would do this on purpose, but he would. Comments like "What the fuck do you want now?", "Stop bothering me", "You're too intense", "Will you shut up?" can come up at the beginning of the relationship. Even to the point that you feel bad about his independent actions, as if you were just another thing on his list. Of course, deep down he doesn't consider you a burden, but he expresses himself as if you were one.
2. He doesn't open up to you: Katsuki has this constant thought that he can't be inferior, that he has to be the best and his feelings can be a difficult thing, and I think that in a relationship he feels a lot more pressure about all this to be strong and show you how tough he is. So I think that for a long time he won't tell you if something is wrong with him even if it's clear that something is wrong with him. This could just be something normal, but I add it as a red flag since a large part of Katsuki's life is clouded by those insecurities, so he doesn't tell you how he feels every time he sees Deku, or how he was in training, or how he felt when he won something, because if he does, his facade will fall apart. This ends up being something that can affect the communication between you two.
3. He doesn't understand you: He tries, he really does, but he just has a hard time understanding when you feel bad. He's so used to minimizing what's happening to him that he doesn't understand why it affects you so much. So you might be crying in his arms, and he might be hugging you, but deep down he doesn't understand, and that's terrible in arguments, because he doesn't understand why you're angry or why you're sad or why you're disappointed, he tries to fix it but he doesn't understand the roots of the problem.
4. He's jealous: Like, not jealous to get insecure when he sees you with a friend, jealous to get furious when he sees you with another man. And that, OBVIOUSLY, brings problems. He trusts you, he doesn't trust them, he knows you're hot and he also knows that the other jerks know it. So don't doubt that he's going to complain to you repeatedly that a certain person shouldn't be so close to you, or that he doesn't get along very well with a certain friend.
5. His anger: In the anime we can already see that he is a little bit... impatient. He tries to control himself with you, he truly loves you and treats you with his best version, but there are times when you simply act in a bad way, I mean, you also have your red flags, and that makes him angry, and you too, then you fight. A lot. For a long time. A lot of yelling. And probably a lot of painful words that he doesn't really feel, but says them, because his fury is faster to speak than to think, analyze and meditate.
Now, like every person, he has his flaws and his virtues. He has things to improve and things that you should love, because they are incredible.
So let's see what those good sides are and let's see which side of his personality ends up winning, let's see the second side of his furious personality.
1. He doesn't talk, he acts: Maybe he doesn't open up to you as much as he should, but he decides to make you feel comfortable by letting you know that he loves you through more practical methods. Are you hungry? He cooks, are you sick? He takes care of you, do you want a snack? He buys it. Because actions are worth more than words, so he decides to act, he decides to give you what you want, and consider yourself lucky because you are the only one who sees his helpful side.
2. He puts you first: If his friends invited him out to eat something, he won't care if you sent him a text telling him to go with you to buy something. If his mother told him she was going to celebrate a birthday with the family, he'll run away because you asked him to bring you some chocolates. Because he knows that if you love someone, you're not going to replace them with the smallest things, so if he has to make a decision that involves you, you'll always be the right answer.
3. He is not ashamed to show you off, he loves to do it: You are also part of his achievements, and being the show-off that he is, he will show you off. God, he has a sexy, smart, strong, kind and hot girlfriend, he has to show you and show them that you two are together, that he is a lucky and happy man.
4. He knows you: I think this is important, but not all men do it, in fact those who do are very few. Because not all of them observe you, remember, learn and please you, but Katsuki does. He is observant and knows how to listen, maybe he doesn't understand perfectly why you feel so much, why you get excited and sad about small things, but he knows that you do it, he knows how you feel, he knows how you reacts, he knows what you like and how he knows you, he knows how to please you, he knows how to make you happy with a gift, he knows how to excite you, he knows how to make you laugh and he knows how to make you feel loved.
5. You're part of his future: If he sees himself as a great hero, he sees you by his side, making and fulfilling your dream. Holding your hand. Kissing you. Hugging you. Caressing you. That's what he sees. Maybe two house, or a single one, whatever you want, maybe 2 children, or maybe none, just a pet, maybe a red car, or maybe a black car, but within all those variables there is one constant: you.
Sorry, this doesn't match your way of seeing Katsuki. Remember that he is still a character that each one sees and imagines in their own way, but I try to do it in a way that everyone feels comfortable.
Now, did the 🟩 flags or the 🟥 flags win?
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;; Don't Blame Me
A Matthew Knies Fanfiction
Summary: Back home for the summer, you and your bestie hit up the neighbor’s pool party. In attendance is your sister’s ex boyfriend, Matthew Knies – but he’s only got eyes for you.
Kinks & TW: sister's ex-boyfriend, age gap (older reader), sexual acts in public, car sex, sundress season, unprotected sex (pull-out method but make it sloppy), masturbation, drug and alcohol consumption (marijuana)
Word Count: 6.4k+
The base dropped, and your stomach went with it. You could physically feel the music as it pulsed through the home. From the speakers, the music vibrated the floor, you could feel it against your feet and how it reverberated into your bones. You couldn’t hear the laughter that slipped from your friend’s lips after a bad joke, nor could you hear the clinking of glasses as someone made a toast to the host, Phillip, that was happening nearby.
Hell, you couldn’t even hear yourself think. Which wasn’t the worst thing, since it was your first weekend back home after a brutal semester of grad school. You had spent the last 10 months grueling over your degree. You should have been letting loose like everyone else at the party. Instead, you found yourself sidelined, clutching a neon pink drink your best friend had greeted you with as a peace offering for accepting the role as her wing woman for the night.
The target? You hadn’t heard his name, but you didn’t need to hear him to know that he was exactly her type. Tall, brunette, and, as she so often described, her ideal man, medium ugly. He was a goner the moment she walked into the party, and he seemed to accept his fate with a smile - which made your job a lot easier. You just had to smile and hope he had good looking friends.
Taking a long sip of your too-sweet drink, your eyes peered up over the rim of the glass, watching the crowd as it swarmed like bees in a hive. Bodies distorted by flashing, colored lights as they danced, others used the darkness to conceal a secret kiss - and where it was brighter, that’s where the real chaos ensued. You couldn’t see anything more than the fluorescent glow from the kitchen, but you could hear it, even over the blaring music. The hoots and hollers that could only mean one thing. A frat boy’s favorite pastime; beer pong–
“Hey!” You flinched as your best nudged you with her elbow to pull your attention back to her. “You’re so tense, you’ve got to try to relax. We’re back home! Have some fun, for once!”
“Yeah, yeah,” you muttered, trying to smile, but you lost it as you brought your drink to your lips. You took a bigger gulp, feeling the sugary alcohol burn as it went down, and didn’t stop until the cup was empty. Maybe, if you drank enough, you’d finally loosen up.
Being back home, you were supposed to feel at ease–free even. But you couldn’t be, not as long as you were in the house surrounded by strangers mixed with familiar faces that you hadn’t seen since high school. It left a heavy feeling in the pit of your stomach, a little thankful that your best friend had you hiding along the walls and away from the rest of the party. This had you dreading having to leave to get yourself another drink.
You held up your glass, dandling it playfully in front of her face playfully, “where can I get another one of these?”
“The kitchen.”
Fuck.
“Come with me?” You pouted, and just in case that wasn’t enough for her, you bat your eyes at her too. “I’m sure your man will be here when we get back.”
Her smile was mischievous as she leaned into her man to speak directly into his ear. He seemed to melt beneath her words, his jaw slacking and his head nodding along with her words. Then, with the promise that she would return, you were both free.
You walked together arm in arm, and suddenly you were the center of attention. All eyes were on the two of you as you pushed through the crowd, and with the attention, you became all too self-conscious. Were your pants too tight? Did your makeup look alright in dim lighting? Your mind raced with insecurity, and it only got worse as you reached the threshold of the kitchen.
It was there you paused mid-step, your best friend’s stride trying to tug you in after her, but you were an anchor, unmoving.
There was a mess of bodies in front of you, all crammed into the kitchen like sardines. You had never seen so many people in one palace, their bodies colliding and voices loud as they took turns tossing the ball across the table. The splash of the ball into a cup sent the pale amber beer splashing from the cup and down onto the table. A large hand encompassed the red cup, near crushing it, before he brought it up to thin lips and chugged with such desperation that left the drinker gasping when he was through.
You could only lick your lips as you watched beer bead down the man’s lips and chiseled jaw. The movement of your tongue mimicking his before you could even realize what you were doing or who he was. And when that moment dawned on you, you were ready to run out the front door.
“Is that…” your best friend muttered just loud enough for you to hear. She didn’t leave your side, but she did lean in, squinting her eyes as if she didn’t have perfect vision. Then she gasped, confirming the sight that you had hoped was just a drunken mirage. “Holy shit, it is.”
There, at the center of the crowd - a crowd that you were only now realizing was the next worst thing after frat boys: hockey players - with the front of his shirt now soaked with beer as he chugged back another cup, was Matthew Knies, your sister’s ex-boyfriend.
He looked almost the same as you remembered. Just a bit taller, and with a build that could have only been accomplished with the help of a coach or personal trainer. But it was clear he wasn’t the lanky kid that had broken her heart all those years ago.
They hadn’t been together long, maybe a half a year, but your sister was convinced she was in love. What sixteen-year-old in her first “real relationship” didn’t feel that way? She had gone as far as to plan to move to Nebraska to be with him after she graduated, but he had other plans. He hadn’t had the guts to break up with her before he left. He had been a dumb teenager, but that didn’t stop you from resenting him.
“Let’s just make a drink and get back to the real party,” you spoke through grit teeth, your gaze dropping to the floor.
Together, you and your friend pushed around the roster of hockey players and made your way around to the makeshift bar on the kitchen counter. She made your drink for you, just as she had done before, and just when you thought you were in the clear, she whispered to you, “he’s coming over here.”
“Shut up,” you hissed as you took hold of your drink and gripped it tight.
Before you could fully brace yourself for the interaction, Matt was standing in front of you. Towering over you and smiling. He looked good, annoyingly good, with a casual confidence that only made you more irritated.
Thankfully, before you could say something you would regret, your best friend took the lead. She offered him a sickeningly sweet smile, her arms opening up wide to greet him with a casual hug. They had grown up next door to one another and had been the reason your sister had even crossed his path. Yet, she masked the annoyance she held in solidarity with you, and greeted him with soft pleasantries, “we didn’t think you’d be home. I thought that’s why your brother was hosting.”
“He’s around,” he replied to her with a smile. Then he looked directly at you.
You bit down on the inside of your cheek, your eyes narrowing as you leaned your neck to look up at him. “She’s not here,” you bit out at him, your words so sharp and bitter you had to wash them down with a sip of your drink.
Matthew stared at you, his eyebrow raised and head cocked to the side - and you could have sworn you could see him smile as he spoke. “Nice to see you, too.” There was no hint of malice or annoyance in his tone. Instead, they oozed with pleasure, as if he were happy to see you.
It made your teeth grit.
Glancing at your best friend, she met your stare, the two of you silently planning your escape route from the kitchen - from him. Which left his movement unnoticed to you until you could feel the heat of his body radiating against your side. In the crowded space you were backed into a corner, trapped between his broad and towering body and the bar as he mixed himself a drink.
Your skin prickled with a mix of anger - and something else you didn’t want to identify, or didn’t have the time to, because as Matthew was pulling back with his fresh cup, his elbow knocked your arm. The contact sent the pink liquid of your drink splashing down the front of your white shirt. You gasped, the cold liquor sticky on your skin as it soaked through the fabric and revealed the bra you wore beneath it.
“For fuck's sake,” your words were a hiss through your teeth, “you neanderthal!”
“Shit, I’m sorry,” he spoke quickly, his hands reaching for an expensive dish towel. Matthew draped it over your arm and dragged it up and over your shoulder in an attempt to dry you off, but it only frustrated you further. Lurching away, you glared up at him, and he stared down at you wide-eyed and mouth gaping, “I can make you another drink—”
“I don’t need another drink,” you bit back. “I need something to wear.”
Putting your empty cup down on the bar, you pinched at the stained white fabric of your shirt and pulled it away from your chest. It was sticky, see through, and his teammates were staring.
“Run back home,” your best friend’s voice pulled your hardened stare from Matthew’s oblivious one, “let yourself back into the house. Chance, and I’ll catch up with you later.” She punctuated her words with a wink, and before you could respond, she was off, walking back into the glamouring glow of the party - back to her medium ugly man of the night - and that left you alone with Matthew.
Fantastic.
Forcing a smile, you turned to leave, pushing your way back through the crowded party and out into the front yard. You stumbled down the steps, sneaking past people who had stepped out for a cigarette or just to escape the noise. The gust of night wind was welcome on your face, though it chilled your body. But you were only cold for so long. The touch of a large hand grasping your elbow heated your body and left you spinning in place at the bottom of the steps.
Your hair fell across your face, obscuring your view of the person who still had his grasp on you. They weren’t quite holding you back, nor were they trying to stop you from leaving. Their touch was a mere attempt to let you know he was there before he spoke. “Hey, what did I do to deserve the third degree?”
Matthew.
For fuck's sake.
“You mean besides ruining my favorite shirt,” you shot back, trying to shake him off as you marched across the lawn.
While he dropped his hand, he continued to follow. His footsteps echoed you, his body your shadow as you unlocked the door and stepped inside your best friend’s home. You knew its layout better than your own home. You didn’t bother turning on the lights, and instead navigated through the living room and up the stairs to the second story bedrooms. Matthew tripped and fumbled in your wake, only to find his composure behind you as you disappeared into the bedroom door.
Turning on the small lamp that rested on the bedside table, you used its glow to rummage through the suitcase you had yet to unpack. Articles of clothing became strewn over the bed, something you surely would come to regret later when you were hopefully too drunk to even get out of your clothes. At the bottom of your bag you found exactly what you wanted, a linen sundress in your favorite color. You almost smiled at the sight of it, holding it up with both hands as you admired the clean, dry fabric.
Fingers let the fabric fall to the bed before your hands retreated to your shirt, only to pause. Sighing, you looked back over your shoulder to find Matthew standing in the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest as he watched you. Maybe if you gave the answers he was looking for, he’d finally leave you alone.
“You know what you did,” you told him, your voice laced with years of pent-up frustrations.
His features seemed to glow with the realization of just what you were referring to. It was like a lightbulb finally glowing bright after hours of flickering. “That was five years ago,” he exclaimed, punctuating the sentence with your name.
You huffed, your body burning hot with anger. It left sweat to bead down your back, and your hair standing up on end as you grew impatient with him. Turning in place so that you stood with your back to him, you stripped yourself free of your sticky shirt and jeans. You left them in a heap on the floor, standing at the foot of the bed in nothing but your bra and panties for a moment before pulling the dress on over top. When you were done, you glanced at him as she stood there, waiting for something.
“Stop staring at me,” you muttered, a single hand reaching down and pulling your bra out from beneath your dress like some sort of magic trick. It, too, soaked with liquor, became lost on the floor.
“Forgive me and I’ll leave you alone,” he proposed.
You scoffed, pushing past him as he stood in the doorway.
He followed you back out onto the lawn, his body so close to yours you felt his heat, and his legs caught the fluttering fabric of your dress. His presence only infuriated you further.
“We were sixteen,” he said, pleading with you as you reached his driveway together.
“She loved you,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, “and you broke her heart.”
Matthew was scoffing now, his frustration seeping into his tone. “We didn’t even know what love was back then. We never even–”
You stopped dead in your tracks, the implication of his words hitting you like a ton of bricks. “Are you seriously telling me you dumped her because she wouldn’t sleep with you?” you asked, disgusted but not surprised.
“No!” he answered quickly, as if he had fumbled the very conversation. He took a deep breath as he reached for your arm, taking it gentle. He seemed surprised when you let him, his hold careful as he guided you back to sit on the hood of the car in the driveway. There his head hung low, his long shaggy hair falling into his face, and his hand left your body only to prince the bridge of his nose. He took a long, deep breath before he spoke again, his voice quieter now. “It wasn’t like that.”
You scoffed, your eyes rolling as you continued to demand more from him. “Was she not good enough for you or something?”
But while you escalated, Matthew remained calm, composed. “Something like that.”
Your hands curled into fists at your sides, your knuckles going white, as every fiber of your being was ready to explode. “You’re lucky I don’t hit you for saying that,” you spoke slowly, your eyes on the ground as you tried to breathe through the anger. To hit him wouldn’t be the sweet revenge your sister deserved, but it would be a start-
“She wasn’t good enough because the person I wanted was you!” Matthew blurted out, his voice raising just enough to stop you from interrupting him.
Yet, you didn’t think you heard him right. You couldn’t have. Matthew wanting you? It was simply unbelievable… comical… and the longer you sat there simmering in his confession, the harder it was to believe. Then, without warning, you burst into laughter. It was so absurd, so completely ridiculous, that you couldn’t help it. You laughed so hard your stomach ached in the best way and it forced you to lie back carelessly on the hood of the car. There, you let your head lull to the side, your hair falling into your face as you smiled at him.
Matthew, however, met you with a soft yet firm stare. He wasn’t joking, and that terrified you. This man was delusional.
Slowly, he slid off the hood of the car and took two slow steps to stand in front of you. His hand raised first in surrender before coming to rest on each side of your body. They were flat against the hood, trapping you in place. “I’m serious.”
You sat up, a single hand reaching up to push the hair from your face. You wanted him to see the near hysterical look on your face as you challenged him. “You’re delusional.”
“Maybe,” he admitted, his eyes locking onto yours. “But you’re still incredibly sexy.”
Your body flushed with heat, and your brows furrowed. His words weren’t supposed to affect you like that, and sitting there with his hands so close to your thighs, you convinced yourself that they normally wouldn’t. But there, sitting on the hood of that car that cost more than you could even fathom, with the heat of his body between your knees and that heavy, almost vacant stare, you were weak for him in every inch of your body - but you still had your mind.
“I’m too old for you,” you retorted, trying to keep your cool.
“Are you?” he challenged back, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
“I finished undergrad before you were even drafted,” you pointed out, searching for any excuse to push him away when your hands wanted nothing more to reach out, grab him by the shirt collar and pull him in.
“So what? That doesn’t change anything,” he scoffed.
“I don’t know if this is some kind of fetish for you,” you started, desperate to regain control of the conversation, “but you really should be hitting on girls your own age.”
“Why would I do that?” he asked, his tone casual, as if there was nothing wrong with the attractions he felt for you. It was with that question you made the mistake of meeting his eyes. You saw the intensity there, and it made your heart race.
“Why?” you raised a brow at him, “because they wouldn’t be your ex-girlfriends older sister.” You leaned in just enough to emphasize the allure of your proposition. "You have a house full of young, pretty girls who haven’t sat through awkward family dinners with you at the table."
The two of you shared a small smile that made your words seem more like an inside joke than a good idea. He laughed, though it was more of a chuckle, as he leaned in just a fraction closer. “And they wouldn't be playing hard to get.”
“Oh, that’s what you think this is?” you asked, your voice finding a more teasing, jovial tone.
Matthew laughed again, his hair falling into his face. He reached up to push it back, but when his hand retreated, his touch found your cheek. His fingers caressed down the angles of your face, ghosted the corner of your mouth, and found your chin. Matthew took it gently between his thumb and forefinger and tilted your head back oh so slowly. You held your breath as he looked at you, really looked at you, like he was seeing you for the very first time. And then, without warning, he leaned in. You felt the warmth of his breath before you felt his lips. It plumed over your face with its sweet intoxicating scent, as if to pull you in that last breath of an inch to his thin lips that meshed with yours in a slow, tentative kiss.
For a moment, you were too shocked to react, so you just sat there, his lips grazing over yours so lightly they barely touched. You were sure he could feel you breathe out the shudder that coursed through your body. It was only then, as the innate part of you threatened to take over, your brain caught up with it and you pushed him away with both hands and looked at him wide-eyed and breathless.
“What the hell?” you stammered out, wiping the ghost of him off your lips with the back of your hand as you tried to make sense of what just happened.
Matthew just stood there, his expression unreadable, as if he was waiting for you to make the next move.
And for the first time in a long time, you had no idea what to do.
You sat there on the hood of his car, unmoving. The warmth of him radiated against the inside of your thighs, his hands so close to the curves of your hip as he stood there, his body still so close to yours and his lips so close to returning to your lips. Yet, he held such restraint. You could see it in his eyes as he stared at you, waiting desperately for more. But you couldn’t give it to him. Not Matthew.
Too handsome for his own good, Matthew.
Your sister’s ex boyfriend, Matthew.
Could be fucking any other girl at the party, Matthew.
Far too young for you, Matthew.
Your mind was made up. Dropping your eyes to the ground, you let your body slide off the hood of the car. The skirt of your dress inched up your legs and Matthew’s hands reached out to grab you before he flinched back in retreat. But that subtle touch was enough to knock you off balance, your feet stumbling as they reached the ground. It was then your body collided with his, the friction like striking a match–And in an instant, the decision to leave him there in the driveway was gone. Instead, your mind was clouded, hazing with only one thing. Not a thought, but a need.
Matthew. You needed him.
Cursing yourself under your breath, so quietly not even you could hear yourself as you pressed up onto your toes let your lips find his. There was no hesitancy in the kiss that found you, his kiss desperate, almost in fear that at any moment you might change your mind. Matthew’s large hands cupped each side of your face, his thumbs releasing the tension in your jaw and coaxing your mouth open. You almost moaned at the taste of his tongue with little care to anyone who may hear you… or see you.
Anyone could have been watching as the two of you stood there, his larger, towering body trapping you between himself and the car. From most angles, those enthralled by people watching might not have known you were there, Matthew’s body so much bigger than your own that he hid you behind him. They wouldn’t have noticed how his hands left your face when they no longer needed to draw you into the hunger of his kiss. Of how they traveled down your throat, unleashing a desperate gasp against his lips that you were left to choke on as his hand continued to travel down. Down over the swell of your breasts and curve of your waist. Up and over the swell of your hips, and down again until he found the fluttering hem of your sundress. Slowly, a single hand found its way up your dress, his thick fingers dragging over the sensitive skin of your thigh, and he didn’t stop until he was stroking over the thin cotton of your panties.
Your eyes almost rolled as his fingers grazed so lightly down there that you were sure that he was lost, clueless, that he didn’t know where to put them like almost every other man. But then he surprised you, his hand falling flat against your mound to palm at your clit through your panties. Instead of rolling your eyes, you shut them as your lips pulled away from his to let out a heavy breath that was laced with a single word, “fuck.”
Legs went weak at the feeling, your body ready to fall into him, and he knew it. His free hand dripped into his pocket, and as discreetly as you can unlock a sports car - the front and rear lights flashing brightly in the night - he invited you into the back seat.
Stomach jumping into your throat, you looked back at the car and all you could hear was your own heartbeat in your ears. Matthew stepped away from you, the hand that was up your dress, reaching for the door handle and drawing it open. He stood there, his body draped over the door, watching you with soft eyes, and s stupid crooked smile as he waited to see if you would accept.
You should have hesitated - or panicked - but you didn’t. You didn’t even look back at the front door to see if anyone was watching before you rounded the back of the car and climbed into the back seat.
It was cramped, your head almost hitting the hood as you climbed in, and you quickly realized that there would be no sprawling out in the back seat of his car - and especially not as Matthew climbed in after you. He made his body small, sitting in the seat to close the door with a soft thud before he was stretching out over you. The light above you both slowly dimmed, and he smiled a smile that was all to telling.
This was something Matthew had daydreamed about for a long time. You could see it in the way he looked at you, his eyes soft as they took in every little detail, and his touch lingering on the back of your knee as he propped one leg on the headrest before sliding down the back of your thigh. It rested there once he got you positioned just right, your head resting against the car door, your back on the seat and your legs spread with him between them. Matthew kneaded the soft flesh of your thigh slowly as he leaned in to kiss at the skin of your neck.
You had half the mind to tease him when you felt the beginnings of a hickey on your neck, but every time you thought you had found what witty words you wanted to say, he was doing something that left you breathless.
Matthew’s teeth would grave over sensitive skin.
Heavy breath.
His tongue tasted the angle of your caller bone.
You trembled.
His finger coasted over your panties, dipping lower and lower until his fingers were between your legs.
You couldn’t breathe, your lungs burning for air that you couldn’t bring yourself to take as his thick fingers hooked onto one side of your panties and pulled them to the side. His knuckles dragged over your wet cunt, coating them in your arousal, and he didn’t say a word. There was not a single attempt to be sexy, or some disgusting comment about how wet you were. Instead, there was only the sound of his breath hitches as he let his fingers slide into the eagerness that was your core.
With your head spinning, your back arched off the seat to angle your hips down, taking his fingers deeper into your core until he was knuckle deep. And when he pumped his fingers in and out of you in uneven thrusts, you thought you might have completely lost your head. Not once in your life had you imagined this happening, nevermind it feeling so good.
Yet, you wanted more than an adolescent finger fuck in the back seat of his car.
Both of your palms found the strength of Matthew’s chest, pushing him back carefully. They remained there as he sat down in his seat and you contorted and scrambled to straddle his lap. Your panties still pushed aside, you reached down and unbuckled his belt. His eyes went wide, as if the magnitude of what was about to happen hit him. His hands met yours, as if them bumping into one another and fumbling made freeing his cock come any faster. With the button of his pants undone, you grasped each of his hands and directed them up to rest on each of your hips.
“Relax,” you smiled, leaning in slightly, “let me.”
He smiled in return, his head nodding slowly as he watched you.
Your hand left his once you knew he wouldn’t move them, and you let them drag down the strength of his chest slowly. You could feel every one of his muscles through the wrinkled fabric of his t-shirt and you hated that you let yourself indulge yourself in him so fully. As weird as it was to be so close to fucking your little sister’s ex-boyfriend, you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t want to…You stroked your hands up and down the length of his chest, working your way lower and lower each time as you leaned in to kiss his neck. There, you heard him gasp in your ear as you let your hand glide down to his cock. You grasped it with one hand, awkwardly stroking at it as you were careful not to hit your head on the roof as you pushed a little higher on your knees to get the angle just right.
You worked him slowly with your hand, each reaction making you all the more eager to take him between your legs. Yet you waited and watched as his head lulled back on his shoulders. Matthew's eyes shut slowly as his law slacked, and the beginnings of a groan slipped from his lips. That was when you carefully guided him to your core and eased your walls around him with the careful bend of your knees.
Mentally coloring yourself for how much pain you would be in later, you rode him. Your hips rolling and you carefully bobbed up and down the length of his cock. Quickly, your leg muscles burned, your hand reaching out to the headrest on each side of them as you pushed through the discomfort and focused on the pleasure of his cock inside you.
His feet pressed firm to the car floor, Matthew's hips raised to meet you. And each bump displaced his kiss as it traveled from your lips to your neck, then the tops of your breasts that threatened to spill over the flimsy fabric. If he had the time and the space. Matthew surely would fuck you right out of it. But now wouldn't be the time - not as you were left biting your tongue to fight back the moans you didn't want anyone to hear; not when one casual glance into his back seat would leave you both exposed if it wasn't for the fabric that flowed down over his lap. It concealed everything you wanted to see. His cock and how it parted your walls with such ease. How your arousal dripped down him, leaving his cock and balls glistening with the satisfaction of pleasuring you. The sight alone would have sent you over the edge right from the start. But it would be his sudden need for control that pushed you over the edge.
Matthew wrapped both of his strong arms around your waist tightly, hugging your breast to his face as he took your weight and lay it back down over the seat. He struggled for a moment, trying to get the leverage and the position just right before he braced himself on both of your hips. Matthew plowed into you the best he could with the little space you had, the force of his body shifting your body inch by inch across the seat and sending your head into the car door.
Reaching and up, you braced yourself against the door, your hips raising to meet his every thrust as he arched over you. Matthew's sweat drenched t-shirt hung heavily away from his body, and you could feel beads of sweat rain down you from the angles of his face. You tasted him as it fell onto your lips, your tongue licking it away as your eyes fell shut. You focused on the taste of him, the warmth of his body between your legs, and the pleasure of his cock inside you. It left your body hot and your toes curling in your shoes as each repetition brought you closer and closer… so close–
“Ah, fuck,” Matthew cursed, and your eyes shot wide open as his cock throbbed inside you as he came undone. His face was soft like melting butter as he eased back, his hand quickly dropping to his cock as he pulled from you. He stroked himself quickly, shooting ropes of his cum against the inner flesh of your thigh and the cushion of the seat.
Selfish prick, was what you wanted to groan. Instead, your hand left the door and dropped between your spread legs. You found your clit with your fingers, rubbing in quick, messy circles that felt more like a figure eight, pushing yourself back towards the peak of your pleasure that Matthew had left you on the very edge of. Your breathing became shallow and hastened as it crashed over you like an ocean wave. Between your legs, your core clenched, and you could feel Mathew’s cum slip from you. It made your legs tremble, your feet struggling against the seat to give yourself the room to close them around your own hand, but Matthew was still between them, his softening cock in his hand and slaw jawed as he watched you writhe in his back seat.
“Enjoy the show?” you breathed out to him, your finger pulling your damp panties back into place.
“Sorry,” he spoke quickly, sounding like he was on the verge of stuttering.
“Don’t be,” you shrugged, sitting up slowly and carefully to avoid getting cum on your dress, though you were sure some had already found its way there, “I get it.”
Matthew fixed his pants around his waist in silence after he wiped his hand clean on his boxers, and after a quick glance and a smile sent back towards you, he opened the door and stepped out into the night. He stretched when he was free from the confines of his back seat, a single hand pushing his hair back out of his face before he offered it to you to help you out of the car.
“Are you coming in?” Matthew asked you, not even breathless, as he slicked his hair back with the simple motion of one of his hands.
Fucking athletes. They always made you feel out of shape.
“I need a minute,” you sighed, feeling very much your age. You could feel the ache of sex everywhere in your body. From your fingers to your toes, you felt the epitome of relaxed and tense at the same time–though, part of it could have just been in your head as it raced trying to remember the last time you had sex in the backseat of a car, and when or if your body had ever contorted like that before.
“Do you need anything?” He’s polite enough to ask, but it makes you want to hit him. Instead, you wave him off with the simple wave of a tired hand. Matthew smiled, “find me later,” then, he was gone, lost beyond the front door of his house to continue his night as a good host.
You remained in the driveway, your tired body leaning up against the hood of his car. There was a chill in the night air that left the beads of sweat on your skin, feeling like cold raindrops. You shivered, suddenly wishing you had a sweatshirt to pull over your dress. But you quickly had the next best thing, the arm of your friend draping over your shoulder as she leaned back against the car beside you.
She hugged you tight with that single arm before it slipped away from you to delve her hand into her pocket. When she pulled it out, she had a lighter and joint in hand. How it hadn't been crushed during the hug or during her flirtations over the course of the night was beyond you, but you were relieved. As you were slowly coming down from the high of your climax, your mind racing with the thoughts of what you had just done. It both excited you, and left you feeling nauseous. Smoking a joint with your friend seemed like the perfect solution.
You watched as the tip of the joint glowed red as she took a long drag. When she finished taking another, the smoke leaving her mouth in wisps that were caught by the night breeze; she handed it to you. You took a long drag; the smoke suffocating your lungs and only did you exhale when the burning reaching your ears and the smoke left your lips in a harsh cough. But that didn’t stop you from going in for a second drag before you were handing it back to your friend.
“I’m bringing Joseph back home with me tonight,” she told you, your fingers barely grazing as she took the joint from you. “Is that okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, go crazy,” you encouraged as you leaned back against the hood of the car. You took deep and steady breath, the daze of the high already beginning to fog your brain. You smiled as your tight muscles relaxed, a satisfied hum leaving your lips that was maybe a little too loud.
“Careful,” your friend cautioned, a sense of urgency in her tone, “you know how men get with their cars.”
Your shoulder shrugged carelessly. “I don’t think he’ll mind. I already ruined his back seat.”
Gasping, she lay out on her stomach, her limbs hanging over the hood of the car awkwardly as she gazed in through the windshield. When she gasped, she shot upright, her hand reaching out to hit you playfully as she exclaimed, “you slut!” It was said with great love and endearment. You both laughed.
TAGLIST: @mp0625 , @starshine-hockey-girl , @wingedwheelprxncess , @kurlyteuvo , @couldawouldashoulda50
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