Fix ☆ Matt Sturniolo
‧₊˚✧🪩✧˚₊‧ Surprise Party Tour Special ‧₊˚✧🪩✧˚₊‧
Summary: After a long day on tour, Matt needs his fix to relax
Warnings: SMUT, kissing, nipple sucking, handjob, sub Matt
Wordcount: 900
☆ NSFW twitter link included at the end ☆
Its been a long day.
The tour only started last week and yet Matt's body is exhausted. The soles of his feet are aching from standing on the stage for hours today between rehearsals and the performance. A gravelly feeling is slowly invading his throat the more he uses his voice, and his brain can barely form a coherent thought.
His two brothers obviously feel the same way, the car buzzing with a rare silence between the three boys. Getting back to the hotel and lying down is at the top of his brothers' minds, but Matt has a different fix in mind.
As the boys file into their own rooms at the hotel, Matt swings his door open and immediately searches the room for his fix. The one thing he knows will dissolve the tension in his shoulders. The only thing that will clear the haze of fog blocking his mind.
You're sitting at the far end of the room, perched up on the bed and looking like a fucking dream when Matt's eyes finally land on you. Immediately he feels the tightness of his shoulders relax slightly and his body responds reflexively, his feet carrying him across the room towards you, fingers quickly fumbling to discard his suit jacket and tug his tie off his neck. His mind doesn't have to be working for his body to know that it needs you.
Without a beat of hesitation Matt's knees crawl him onto the mattress and he flops down into your lap, his face nuzzling into your stomach and hands pawing at your sides. You respond exactly the way he needs you to, your hands sliding up his sides, untucking and unbuttoning his shirt. The soft gentle contact acts like a drop of water, each touch raining down and slowly but surely washing away the stress of his day.
The loving shower of your attention works wonders for the tension in his body, but there's something still there. His mind still feels clogged, his thoughts still feel heavy and diluted.
His hands that had been carefully holding you near him shift, sliding up the loose t-shirt covering your torso. As the material lifts over your chest a soft beam of light breaks through the haze in his mind. This is what he needs. This is the fix he's chasing.
As if you can sense what he needs, you pull the shirt over your head, revealing yourself to him completely. It's like a dream. The curve of your breasts and the soft peak of your nipples pebbling in the cool air of the room looks like something straight out of his daydreams. The sight alone is enough to make his mouth water, begging to taste the heaven you've just presented him with.
With fog still clouding his mind and blocking his words, the best request he can muster is a polite whine, eyes staring straight at what he wants. But his perfect girl understands, you don't need his words, you simply smile and nod, pulling his head up from your lap to draw him closer.
Lazy kisses pepper up your skin as Matt shifts into position, burying his face into your chest, cupping your breasts in each hand. His mouth hangs open, breathing you in deeply. Until his body is practically itching for his fix, for the sweet drug of your skin in his mouth, the delight of your taste on his tongue.
Gently his tongue drags over the swell of your breast, licking and suckling at the soft skin until he reaches your hard nipple. His watering mouth sucks the peak in eagerly. Enchanted by the soft sigh you release, his efforts double, suckling and nibbling at you, desperately chasing that sound again. Maybe that's the fix he needs.
Until he feels your hands shift down his body, sliding and tracing gentle lines over his skin towards the waist band of his dress pants. Then he's certain this is what he's been chasing.
When your hand pauses on his zipper in question, he lets out an eager grunt, the sound vibrating around your nipple and drawing an equally eager noise from you.
Each new sensation, each new touch and noise you give him slowly works to dissipate the fog in his mind. His thoughts become clearer with each gentle stroke of your hand around his length, his needs becoming plainer with each satisfied moan his moth elicits from you.
This is his fix. To be wrapped up in your arms, covered in you. Your hands all over him, bringing him every ounce of pleasure his nerves ache for, and his mouth all over you, desperate for you to feel the same. This is the heaven he needed.
As your hands strokes up and down his length, your thumb circling over his tip, his mind is clear once again. He'd go through every day as exhausting as this one if he could have this each time.
