Work Text:
It had been a bad day. Nothing seemed to go right. You were late to work. You left your card at home and had to dig up change to eat your lunch from a vending machine. You’d dealt with more than one upset customer who just refused to listen to anything you had to say. And then it started to rain on your walk home.
When you finally made it home, you peeled off your wet jacket and kicked off your uncomfortable shoes. You plopped yourself on the couch and decided that you were absolutely done for the day.
Then Matt came home. He seemed to be in a good mood, which for some reason only made you feel worse. He sensed it immediately, and after changing out of his office clothes and into something comfortable -you couldn’t help but notice it was your favorite pair of sweatpants and the thinnest shirt he owned- he settled himself down on the couch next to you.
You were angry. You couldn’t even explain why. But it pulsed through your body like a headache, blood hot as it pumped too fast through your veins.
When he asked if you wanted to talk about your day, you answered bitterly in the negative. When he asked what he could do to make you feel better, he knew exactly what you needed.
He leaned closer to you and kissed you. It was soft, comforting, inviting. Something switched on inside of you.
You met the kiss with fervor, your fingers dug into his arm, nails pressing hard into flesh. You wouldn’t be surprised if you’d left a mark. But the sharp intake of his breath against your lips told you he wouldn’t mind if you did.
“Let go,” he told you, breath hot against your lips now. “I’ve got you. Let it all go.”
And you did. Practically ripping his shirt off over his head, you were on his lap quickly, knees bracketing his hips.
You took your frustration out on him the best way you knew how. You used his body, his skin an empty canvas for your fire, marking him with lips and teeth and nails. Every infliction was met with a groan, or a rough, low whine. And when your lips met his again, after you’d left your mark up and down his neck and chest, it was desperate. You were the one who needed this release, but he was practically begging you for it, too.
The skin of his chest was hot and flushed, a rouge that spread up his neck, prettily coloring his face. His hands, cool against the flush of your own skin, stayed firm and grounding as you moved against him, keeping you steady and never letting you forget that he had you. You moved your hand from his chest to his chin, pushing his head back until it rested on the back of the couch. His smirk was wiped the moment you sunk your teeth into his neck, feeling his pulse beat hard underneath your tongue. He moaned, breathy and ragged. You realized he needed this as much as you did.
Your anger washed away a little more with every moan you pulled from his lips. He grew more desperate as you undressed, and he grew louder as you drove him closer and closer to the edge. He wouldn’t last long at the pace you were taking him, and that’s just how you wanted it.
With the last of your anger you pushed him harder, your teeth on his shoulder and your nails on his chest as you gave him the release he needed. His mouth fell open, and a choked moan had just passed his lips when you took them again, kissing him hard and deep as you continued your quickened pace, riding him through his climax. Yours hit you only seconds after, a red hot wave of pleasure coursing through your body, replacing the anger and the fire with something calmer but equally as hot.
You fell nearly limp onto him as you came down, resting your head in the crook of his neck again. You sighed contently as his hands began to lazily run up and down your back, lulling you into a relaxation so deep you could fall asleep.
“Thank you,” you said when you finally caught your breath.
You had done most of the work, you’d kissed him and marked him and fucked him until you both came, but he was the one who was taking care of you. He knew you in a way no one else ever had, and he knew just how to bring you back down from a bad day.
“Of course,” he answered sincerely. Then, with a low chuckle you could feel in his chest, he added, “Any time.”