birthday sleepover (office nerd!matty x reader smut)
final day of matty35!! happy birthday to my favourite boy. have a fic about watching star wars and shagging afterwards to celebrate!! enjoy <3
“why did we need to rewatch the ending of return of the jedi on dvd? i thought i was doing a good thing cueing them all up on demand for you coming over.”
“no, you were, darling, i appreciate it so much, but i really need to show you this bonus feature,” matty kisses your head, before abandoning you completely to stand next to the tv and gesture to the force ghosts appearing to luke skywalker onscreen. “look - different anakin.”
you squint. “what? how?”
“they retconned the digital edition for continuity - added the guy from the prequels to the dvd box set release in 2004,” your boyfriend explains, eyes lighting up in that adorable way they do when he’s passionate about something; naturally, it’s how he looks at you, most of the time. “that’s the original guy, there. same guy who played unmasked vader in the him and luke reconciliation scene, you know. isn’t that weird?”
“yeah.” you’re not lying.
matty moves back to sit next to you on the bed, tugging you onto his lap and gently holding your face. he kisses you, soft and slow and long, and you can feel his affection for you in it. “thank you for marathoning the original trilogy with me, darling. best birthday i’ve had in a long time.”
you pout. “not best ever?”
“that would be the tour of st. james park when i was ten,” he grins. “but this is a close second.”
“i’ll take it,” you kiss his nose. “wait… so if i was to take you on a tour of st. james park…”
“stop it right now, i might cum.”
“oh, for god’s sake,” you facepalm, trying your best not to grin while matty cracks up beside you. “let’s 86 that idea, then.”
“yeah. and we can do that number take away 17 together instead.”
“what… oh,” you smirk at your giggling boyfriend. “then you really will cum.”
“so will you,” matty leans in to kiss your neck. “you know how much i love it when you sit on my face.”
“fuck,” you can't help moaning at the thought of his tongue slicing through you, flicking against your clit with reckless abandon as you writhe on that pretty face of his; the way it's currently soothing the bite he just left on your neck isn't helping, either. “is it bedtime yet?”
matty presses kisses up across your neck to your lips - when they meet yours, you slip your tongue into his mouth, and the whine he lets out completely liquifies your insides and sends them straight into your underwear. “yeah… wait, babe,” he pants against your lips. “we haven’t let maggie outside tonight yet.”
“oh, right,” you look around the room, slightly groggy, for the puppy you were convinced was asleep on her bed by the radiator. “she’s not in here?”
“think she left halfway through the empire strikes back. reckon she was bored,” he looks at you pointedly, smile threatening to break out. “takes after her mother in that regard.”
“i wasn’t bored!”
your boyfriend kisses your nose. “sweetheart, i saw your eyes glazing over like five separate times,” he kisses all over your face, dragging a giggle from your lips with each press of his own. “but you stayed awake through all of them, and you didn’t complain, and i think you deserve head as a thank you.”
“you know, baby, you don’t actually need an excuse to eat me out.”
“yeah, i do,” matty blushes, hiding his face in your neck. “because i’d just have my head between your legs all the time if i didn’t.”
you laugh, holding the back of his head and cuddling him. “well, the sooner you take the dog out, the sooner you can come back and do that to me.”
the speed with which matty practically shoves you off his lap and runs out of the bedroom is comical. he laughs when you smack his ass, turning back to blow you a kiss before running towards the living room, shouting for maggie. you roll out of bed, darting over to softly close the door behind him then making a beeline for your wardrobe.
excitement - and slight nerves, you must admit - building in your stomach, you reach behind a stack of band tees on the wardrobe shelf, standing on tiptoe to grab the paper bag you stashed there a week ago. moving quickly, acutely aware that you have limited time before matty returns, you pull the lingerie from the bag, barely even looking at it before you’re yanking your (well, matty’s) t-shirt off and replacing it with the fancy bra. only once you’re fully dressed in the new underwear do you admire it, moving to stand in front of the full-length mirror and examining yourself. adjusting the chains holding your tits up, and smoothing any creases from the long skirt, you turn, looking at your outfit from different angles, giggling deliriously.
you look hot. extremely hot. matty’s going to fucking lose it.
and he’s going to be back any second - you can hear him padding along the hallway, humming the imperial march to himself. chucking your discarded clothes onto the chair at your vanity, you all but launch yourself back onto the bed, and settle into the first sexy-ish pose that comes to mind: lying on your side, facing the door, elbow propping up your head and top leg slightly bent.
a brief wave of panic washes over you when the realisation of what you’re doing sinks in, but you don’t have time to psych yourself out of it before matty’s knocking softly on the door. “darling?” he sounds concerned. “you alright? can i come in?”
you take a deep breath. now or never, you suppose. “yeah. come in, angel.”
“got worried when i saw the door was- oh my god,” matty’s breath catches when he opens the door and sets eyes on you for the first time. he stands there quite gormlessly for about a minute, mouth agape and pretty eyes blinking constantly, as if to make sure you’re actually lying on the bed in princess leia cosplay and he isn’t dreaming. his eyeline shifts quite constantly, too, flitting from your smiling (smirking) face to your legs to your chest and back again. yours shifts down over his bare chest to his boxers, already beginning to tent, much to your delight.
mission accomplished.
twirling your hair around your index finger, you smile at your boyfriend. “happy birthday, baby,” biting your lip, you beckon him over with the same finger; he stumbles forwards, entranced, sinking to his knees at the side of the bed. you run your thumb over his lips, and matty whines quietly, eliciting a satisfied hum of your own. “do you like my new outfit?”
he nods so frantically you fear for his neck. still, you want to hear him. “words, sweet boy. want you to tell me what you think about it.”
“okay,” matty croaks out, eyes glued to your tits. “you- you look fucking incredible. um, just, like, so sexy. m’so fucking turned on. never been so hard in my fucking life. seriously.”
he isn’t kidding; you glance down at his clothed dick, visibly straining against the fabric, and you can feel your ego inflating to match. “yeah?” you slide your hand into his hair. “what do you want to do about it?”
“wanna fuck you,” he whimpers, looking doe-eyed at you. “but i wanna eat you out first. can i? please, darling?”
he’s so fucking eager. you’re obsessed with him.
nodding, you move so you’re sitting on the edge of the bed in front of matty, flicking the front of the skirt out of the way; his pupils dilate even more when he sees you’re bare underneath, and you giggle. “go on then, gorgeous.”
matty’s barely gasped out a “thank you” before you’re being tugged towards his face and it’s buried between your thighs. really, there’s no other word for it - if you could think anything coherent amidst the pleasure searing through you with every movement of your boyfriend’s tongue, you’d genuinely worry about whether he can breathe or not, so close is he to your core. but how can you be expected to think when you feel so fucking good?
of course, matty being matty, he’s slightly graceless with his tongue in his overexcitement, but that’s easily remedied - you root your fingers between those curls you love so much, using them as leverage to grind yourself against him and, in the process, guide him to do what you need him to. he groans what you assume, knowing him, is a “thank you” into your cunt, and the vibrations of his voice add an extra layer to the stimulation already turning you into a wanton, whining mess of a woman. “fuck, matty, such a good boy for me,” you pant, stomach contracting with every lick. humming happily, he takes your clit into his mouth, sucking on the bud and making you wail. “yes, yes, just like that… fuck, you’re so good, so fucking good to me. keep going, angel, make me feel good.”
just like you knew it would, the praise spurs your boyfriend on, more than you would’ve thought humanly possible had you not spent copious amounts of time with his mouth on you just like this. after he’s had his fill of making out with your clit - for now, at least - matty turns his attention to your hole itself, licking into it like melting ice cream, driving the muscle into you to the hilt, over and over and over. that in itself is enough to make your legs convulse, but then he adds his thumb to your clit; some form of half-scream half-sob thing drags itself up your throat and past your lips as matty draws every pattern he knows you love onto the bundle of nerves, and your thighs involuntarily clench around his head, keeping him flush against you.
as if he would ever leave you hanging.
some part of your pleasure-numb brain urges you to apologise, tells you that crushing his head like that is surely painful, but it’s quickly disproven by your boyfriend whimpering into your core, pretty little masochist that he is. he looks up at you, beautiful eyes rolling back further into his head with every moan you make, responding with whines and groans of his own. there are a lot of things to like and love about matty, and his focused desire to always make you feel good is one of them - he gets off on this, making you feel nothing less than euphoric, and there’s no way in hell he’s stopping doing what he’s doing until you cum.
and when he rapidly flicks his tongue on your clit, side to side, curls flying everywhere from the force with which he’s shaking his head, you do. the building ball of pleasure in your stomach shatters, careening into your veins and nerves and brain and voicebox, and it’s all you can do to hold him against your cunt until the aftershocks subside.
matty giggles breathily, tenderly rubbing your thighs as you flop back onto the bed and catch your breath. when you’ve stopped shaking quite so much, you sit up on your elbows to look at him. “now where on earth did you learn that last move?”
he shrugs, cheeks rosy from use and damp with you. sweet as caramel and completely earnest, he replies. “just wondered if it would work.”
“jesus christ,” you giggle, shaking your head. “you're perfect, you know that? now,” you beckon him again. “get up here, birthday boy.”
matty doesn't waste any time; he's lying beside you before you've even finished talking, giddy smile intact. you make the same face in return, climbing onto his lap and pressing your lips to his, while his hands find home on your waist. the taste of yourself on him is exhilarating - you moan into matty when it hits you, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth and fluster you even further.
it's such a good kiss that it physically pains you to pull away. but the sight of matty, all messy hair and big adoring eyes, makes up for it. smiling, you stroke his cheek with your thumb. “so, birthday boy, what do you want to do next?”
“hmm,” matty's brow furrows adorably, hands tracing the bare skin of your torso as he thinks. after a moment, he looks up at you shyly. “i’d like you to ride me, please.”
before you can open your mouth to agree, he bursts into speech again. “but only if you want to! we can do something else if you’re not in the mood for that. god, i’d take anything at all. but, also, nothing. i don’t mind,” he takes a breath, smiling lovingly at you and stroking your hair. “to be honest, i’d settle just for looking at you, darling. my beautiful girl”.
your cheeks burn, your heart flutters, and all you can do is kiss your boyfriend again. it's sweeter than the last kiss, but it quickly deepens into something desperate - you lift your hips and tug gently at matty's boxers, and he lifts his own hips to let you slide them off. you giggle against his lips as he holds you at a funny angle so he can kick the underwear off, pulling back slightly to talk. “can i fuck you now, sweetheart?”
matty smiles. “you can do anything you want.”
“alright,” you grin at the way he whimpers when you take hold of his dick, eyes fluttering closed when you pump it; you softly touch his face as if to stir him. “eyes open, sweetheart. want you to watch me.”
“okay. sorry,” he obliges, eyes opening and widening as you sink down onto him slowly, hands braced on his hard chest. “jesus christ.”
“yeah,” you breathe, jaw dropping as you take him fully. after a second, you begin to grind your hips, riding him slowly to adjust to how big he is. “always feel so fucking good inside me, baby. how is it for you?”
“perfect,” he's fucked already, eyes heavy and jaw slackening, a sheen of sweat covering his chest tattoo. you speed up your movements, and matty groans, gaze fixated on your tits. “can i touch you, please?”
“of course, angel.”
“thank you.” just as you predicted, your boyfriend's hands immediately go to your chest, palming and squeezing as best he can through the bra. feeling generous - it is his birthday, after all - you reach backwards and undo the garment, chucking it somewhere in your bedroom. matty smiles deliriously, and when he lightly pinches your nipples, you can't help the way your hips speed up or the moan that escapes your lips.
clearly, he isn't the only masochist in the room.
your thighs are beginning to burn from the effort, but you ignore it. matty's enjoying this, the way you're fucking him, as evidenced by the whines of your name and groans and whimpers that fall from his lips, punctuated by the gorgeous sound of your skin slapping against his. and you're enjoying it, too - he hits a delicious spot inside you every time your bodies meet, and given your previous orgasm you don't think it'll take long for you to get off again.
he also seems to be getting close, hips sporadically jerking up into you. it feels good, actually, so good that you decide it might be time to relinquish control for a bit. you smile sweetly. “do you want to do the work for a bit, angel, wanna fuck me?”
“can i?”
fuck, you have the most adorable boyfriend in history. you nod. “i'd really like that.”
“alright,” matty shuffles beneath you, sitting up more against the pillows and moving your arms to rest on his shoulders. he kisses you, so deeply and passionately that your head spins. “can i make you cum, please, darling?”
“yeah.”
he smiles, hands moving to hold your hips. “whatever my girl wants.”
no sooner than the words have left his mouth, matty fucks up into you as fast as he can. you've no idea how he can even move at such a brutal pace, but you're not about to complain; you're not about to do anything, actually, except cling onto him and moan into his neck, your second orgasm of the night creeping closer and closer with every thrust of your boyfriend's hips. urging it on even faster, you slip a hand down to your still-sensitive clit, matching pace with matty and pulling the pleasure out from your very bones. you throw your head back, whimpering praise and pleas for him to get you off; matty watches, mesmerised. “fuck, you're beautiful,” he groans, still fucking you with reckless abandon. “cum for me, please, please. wanna watch you, wanna make you feel good. need it, darling, need you to cum.”
his pleading is what does it for you; with a wail, you bury your head in the crook of matty's neck, whimpering into him as you cum for the second time in under an hour. he brings a hand to the back of your head, tenderly holding you close as his hips stutter to a stop, murmuring more pleas into your ear. “fuck, fuck, please let me cum, can't - shit, darling - can't hold it any longer.”
“do it,” you speak into his skin. “cum, baby, fill me up.”
matty whines, thrusting up into you a final time. he wraps his arms around you as he cums, kissing your shoulder as he recovers. “thank you, sweet girl. so good to me.”
“so good for me,” you lean forward to kiss your boyfriend, both of you unbothered by the cum leaking out of you and onto his stomach when he slips out of you. “always exactly what i need.”
matty smiles. he holds your face so carefully, caressing your cheeks when you pull apart. “i've changed my mind.”
“about what?” you frown, confused.
“about what my best birthday was,” matty giggles, still panting for breath. “it's this one. hands-down. fuck the football.”
you laugh. “can i get that in writing?”
“after today? you can get anything you want,” he laughs, slightly manic, shaking his head in disbelief. “i can't believe you bought and wore that outfit for me, darling. sexiest fucking thing i've ever seen, christ.”
“i'm glad you liked it. i had a lot of fun,” you kiss his nose. “happy birthday, baby. can i clean you up?”
“in a minute, my girl,” matty wraps his arms around your thighs and tugs you until your core hovers over his face, currently set into the biggest smirk you've ever seen. “my turn first.”
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