#George Daniel x reader

[carl1ghts]

heres that edit that you were all asking about, specifically for the clip of matty spitting on the camera.

MADE BY @fracturelight ON TIKTOK, NOT MINE!!

[wreckedandpolemic]

my kind of party - george daniel & matty healy

(mdni) in which three is a crowd, and four is a party. part of the regret me universe and summer75 2024. 4274 words.

warnings (take a deep breath): foursome (f/f/m/m), degradation, oral (f and m receiving), switch!matty, mentions of choking, spit, cumplay, idk this gets pretty gay, incredibly unhygienic use of a hot tub

Sweat prickles at the back of your neck, steam curling from the water surrounding you as a massage jet pummels your back soothingly. Matty’s thigh presses against yours from one side, Sabrina’s shoulder grazing on the other. George leans back on her other side, stretching and deliberately pulling three pairs of eyes to the muscles of his chest. The summer air is thick with humidity, an expectant tension pulling between you; each one of you knows exactly what the other three look like when they come.

The awareness hangs heavy over you, Sabrina’s hand on your thigh an inevitability in the same moment you pull Matty in for a kiss. He’s cautiously eager, hyper-aware of his audience as you slide a hand into his curls. You aren’t entirely sure why he’s so hesitant — George and Sabrina are both very familiar with the way he touches, kisses, fucks. Four, though, is new. But when you hear Sabrina sigh into George’s mouth as she reaches up to untie your bikini top, you can’t find it in yourself to feel anything but a thrill.

You groan softly as Matty takes a greedy handful of newly exposed skin, his fingers rough on your tender flesh. A pleasured moan from Sabrina pulls you from Matty’s mouth, and you turn to see her stripped naked and grinding her hips down against seemingly nothing with George still kissing her feverishly. She breaks away, turning to you with a flushed face and a sleazy grin. “Should just kick ‘em out and— mmh, get off on the jets, babe. Feels fucking good.”

Sliding your bikini bottoms off, you shift your hips experimentally, your vision nearly whiting out when you find the perfect angle and a bolt of white-hot pleasure crashes over you. “You’re onto something,” you smirk, rolling your hips down. “Still, we keep ‘em around for a reason, right? Give us a show, yeah?” you instruct. In a split-second, Matty surges across the hot tub, catching George in a searing kiss, soaking wet hands tangling in his hair

“Jesus, he’s needy, ain’t he?” Sabrina murmurs, eyes trained on the boys even as her hand wanders between your legs. You gasp, and she smirks. “But so are you, huh? Which one d’you think’s the bigger slut, Georgie?” she adds, the meanness in her tone familiar and yet newly turned on you.

“Matty,” George answers unthinkingly. “Never heard her cry and whine for cock the way he does.” Sabrina works two fingers over your clit, eyes wide with interest. 

“You fuck him?” she breathes, warm water lapping at your bare breasts as slow bursts of arousal lick between your thighs. You nod, need thrashing under your skin. “Shit. That, I have to see.” Your reply is cut off by George’s low moan as Matty slides his hand into his shorts and palms his cock, kissing at his neck when George throws his head back in pleasure.

You smirk, climbing over her and settling in her lap. “Next time,” you say, tilting her head up to brush a slow, featherlight kiss to her lips. Her eyes widen. “What? You didn’t think this was gonna be a one-time thing, did you?”

She grins wickedly, arching up so her chest presses against yours, her hand wandering to cradle your ass. “Blow my mind and we’ll find out, doll.”

Behind you, George heaves himself out of the water and you twist in Sabrina’s lap to watch him as he seats himself on the ledge. Dripping wet and gloriously naked, cock half-hard between his legs, he’s a fucking vision as Matty starts to lean in. You cough pointedly, drawing the pair of them from each other sheepishly. “S’not nice to play with somebody else’s toys without asking, George,” you say, dripping condescension as Sabrina’s head falls to kiss over your tits. “You gonna ask for what you want?”

“Want him to blow me,” George groans, muscles tensing as Matty kisses against his inner thighs, mouth desperately close to where he needs it. The sight of them is dizzying, your hips grinding down against Sabrina’s as you moan softly.

“Think you can take him, princess?” you croon, identical, sharp inhales at the sobriquet sending a burst of heat between your legs as Matty turns to you, eyes glazed and jaw slightly slack. He nods wildly, and you laugh. “Greedy little slut. Careful. He’s bigger than me. You gonna choke on his cock, pretty boy?”

In response, Matty wraps his lips around George and swallows him down, gagging when he meets the back of his throat. “Aw, s’that all you can take? Need a hand, baby?” Sabrina teases, lifting you off her lap and settling next to George, wrapping a hand around his cock as Matty bobs his head enthusiastically. You stare, entranced, as George catches Sabrina in a hot, messy kiss, playing with her tits with one hand and threading the other into Matty’s curls.

Matty whines pathetically around George, hips shifting needily with a tent in his shorts visible even through the churning water. You take pity on him, sliding down next to him and palming him through his shorts. Pressing a soft kiss against the damp skin of his neck, the salt taste of his sweat lingers on your lips as you lean to stage-whisper against the shell of his ear. “If you cum from this, that’s it. You get to help the rest of us get off and stay all needy, okay?”

He nods feverishly, George groaning at the moan Matty gives when you slip your hand under his waistband, tugging his shorts off and stroking slowly over his cock. Sabrina’s knees knock against your shoulders as she gasps into George’s mouth, his hand having wandered between her legs. Eagerly, you watch him draw tight, fast circles over her clit, her whines pitching up as she chases the sensation. The four of you must be painting an obscene picture, your head between Sabrina’s thighs while George kisses her tits, his cock in Matty’s mouth while his sits heavy and thick in your palm.

Leaning in slowly, you lick a broad, flat stripe along Sabrina’s cunt, mouthing teasingly at George’s fingertips as he toys with her clit. She gives a gasping, shuddering moan that falls straight to your cunt, thighs clenching. “How come you guys are having all the fun?” you pout up at her, licking over her hole just to hear her whine.

“Get— oh, fuck, yes! Get me off, and we can— mmh— switch,” she says, her free hand sliding into your hair and pressing you into her cunt. The taste of her slides sweetly across your tongue, dripping down your chin as low moans and slick, wet sounds fill the air above you. Matty whines and drools next to you, practically making out with George’s cock as he thrusts messily into your hand. For a moment, all you know are pleasured sounds, Sabrina dripping against your tongue, Matty’s skin against yours, the warm, soothing water around you.

You hear Matty gag obscenely, followed by George moaning out, “God, so good, fuck—” He gives a shuddering gasp, his fingers stilling as he rides out his high. “Go on, swallow like a good boy, yeah? That’s it.”

With Matty’s mouth freed, he leans against you and presses needy, open-mouthed kisses everywhere he can reach, whining when you dig your nail into his slit. George and Sabrina are still sloppily making out above you, her thighs clenching around your head and spurring you into action. You tongue-fuck her hard and deep, writhing at every needy whine she gasps into George’s mouth. Moments later, she comes against your mouth, cunt clenching around your tongue as she whimpers your name desperately. You turn your head unthinkingly, catching Matty’s jaw and licking hungrily into his mouth. The taste of George’s cum lingers on his tongue, smearing with Sabrina’s between your tongues as he moans lowly into your mouth.

“Je-sus,” Sabrina says after a moment, breaking the silence that’s fallen between you. “Let’s take this inside, yeah? Someone’s gotta get fucked into the mattress before tonight’s over, right?” She gets to her feet without another word, deliberately swaying her hips as she tracks wet footprints up to the door, her bikini still discarded somewhere by the water. The three of you share a brief, charged look before scrambling after her, almost pitching over when you slip on the wet tile.

Sabrina is lounging on the bed when you catch up to her, uncaring of her damp hair pressing against the sheets. She smirks at you, beckons seductively, and any semblance of control you might have had burns away as you fall on top of her, her lips greedily searching for any arousal that lingers in your mouth. Then, she looks over your shoulder, past you, locking eyes with Matty. “Mind if I try out your little toy, doll?”

You grin wickedly, climbing off her to gaze over at Matty, hard and begging, his skin flushed with need. “Go ahead. Doesn’t look like he’s gonna last long, though. Fuckin’ gagging for it, isn’t he?” Matty chokes on his inhale, cock twitching at being spoken about like he isn’t there, like he’s a thing the three of you can use for your own pleasure. “Come on, then, princess. Can’t be so dumb already, right? Do as you’re told, yeah?”

Spurred into action, Matty practically trips over himself in his haste, kneeling between Sabrina’s spread legs with an eager smile. “How do you want me?”

She slides a hand into his damp, messy curls. “Oh, just shut up and fuck me,” she growls, a whine pulled from his lips as she tugs hard on his hair. “Rough as you want, babe. Do whatever you want, s’long as you make me cum, yeah?”

Your cunt pulses at her words, an identical flash of arousal sparking in Matty’s gaze. Matty enters her slowly, your eyes trained on her face as her lips part in ecstasy, chest heaving and urging him to go faster. You jerk your chin at George. “C’mere,” you order, climbing on top of him the second he lays down. Leaning down, you kiss him hard, leaving him breathless as you pull away and flip around so your cunt is in his face. “What are you waiting for? My permission?” you grin, wrapping your lips around the tip of his cock. He hisses, bucking his hips up and lapping at your cunt.

You inch down slowly, letting George stretch out the corners of your mouth gorgeously. Spit drips down his cock, his tongue insistent against your clit as you swallow around him. You relax your throat, pushing down a gag; taking George is something you have to work for, and you’ve never been one to back down from a challenge. The rhythmic noise of Matty fucking Sabrina beside you makes an obscene soundtrack, George’s moans into your cunt rippling through you as you drip on his tongue.

Your nose presses against the damp, sweat-slick skin of George’s belly and you grin victoriously as best you can around him, his tongue deep in your cunt melting your brain into nothing. Sabrina’s free hand finds your clit and you grind back against her fingers, moaning around George’s cock as he fucks your mouth. An evil idea flickers to life in your mind, your hands moving almost of their own accord. You reach up to tease around Matty’s hole, the muscle quivering under your touch. Sabrina chokes as he jolts, his hand pressing hard at her throat. “Shit! M’sorry, are you—”

“Fuck, yesyesyes, do that again,” she moans, the pure lust in her voice striking directly in your core. The air is thick with arousal, saturated with breathy moans and lewd sounds, Sabrina crooning encouragements to Matty the moment he allows her breath. You’re fucking dizzy with it, drunk on George’s tongue in your cunt, his cock in your mouth, the mattress dipping under the weight of your… boy fucking your best friend as her skin presses against yours.

George is fucking your mouth with abandon, one hand digging into your hair as he laps at your cunt like you’re his last goddamn meal. You melt against him, limp, letting him fuck your mouth as ecstasy hammers hard in your blood, cunt clenching around his tongue and dripping against Sabrina’s fingers. You can hardly think, wrapped in sensation, a marionette dancing on the strings he’s pulling.

Hips rolling against George’s mouth, you swallow around him, moans coming out garbled and pathetic as slick, hot pleasure thumps in your veins. “Shit, m’gonna cum, don’t stop, fuck!” George gasps against you, moaning helplessly when you redouble your efforts, forcing him as deep down your throat as you physically can and moaning exaggeratedly. He moans out your name, hips bucking as he comes in your mouth, the hot salt taste of him intoxicating. Sabrina pinches your clit, the sharp flash of pain in your sensitive nerves kicking your racing heart into overdrive.

You pull off George and sit up, grinding down hard against his tongue and focusing your gaze on Matty and Sabrina. Her chest heaves, skin flushed and eyes glassy, the skin of her neck already bruising under Matty’s fingers. “Oh, fuck,” you moan, euphoria winding tight under your skin and threatening to burst free. One final, deep thrust breaks you, screaming out George’s name and locking eyes with Matty as you cum, cunt fluttering and arousal gushing over his lips. You moan low in your throat, your vision blurred as you climb off George with shaking legs, letting him shift a little to make room.

Drool mixed with cum leaks from the corner of your mouth, and you catch it on the tips of your fingers and press it into Sabrina’s mouth. She sucks greedily on your fingers, smirking up at you when you pull them free and wipe her saliva against Matty’s chest. His mouth hangs open, panting and moaning as he gazes at you with a faraway look in his eye. “Look so pretty, darling. Like a fuckin’ pornstar, just for us,” you groan.

“He fucks like one, too,” Sabrina grins, rolling her hips up and gasping when her clit brushes against his stomach. “Shit, baby, harder. Just like that, good boy…” she groans. Matty’s hips stutter at the praise, striking a spot inside her that makes her eyes roll back in her head.

“You’re a fuckin’ wet dream,” George groans, his cock twitching valiantly as he stares, entranced. “Does he feel good? You like gettin’ fucked while we watch? Gonna look so pretty cumming on his cock, baby.” Even without being addressed, George’s low voice sands your brain smooth, your need an insistent throb in the base of your skull.

“Oh, God, Matty, don’t stop. M’so close, fuck.” Your head swims, delirious with the obscenity playing out before you, your soaked cunt begging for attention and throbbing between your legs. “Fuck, Matty, shit! Oh, m’cumming, m’cumming, yes!”

Ever theatrical, she gasps and writhes under Matty, doing everything she can to make him lose control as he fucks her through her orgasm. Sure enough, it’s barely a minute before Matty gives a low, shuddering gasp and pleas spill from his lips. “Shit, m’gonna cum, m’so fuckin’ close, fuck! Can I cum, please, please!”

It’s impossibly gratifying that he directs his words to you even as he’s bottomed out in another girl. A sick thrill runs through you at the vicious ownership you feel over him. But this is your best friend, not a girl from the bar or a groupie, so you flash a smile and give a delicate shrug. “I don’t know. Does he deserve it?”

“God, fuckin’ look at him. He needs it so bad,” she pouts, and Matty whimpers. “Needy slut. Been so good, haven’t you? Go on, sweet boy. Cum for us.” The permission is all he needs, spilling deep inside Sabrina with a low, desperate whine, practically trembling with the release.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, fuck, feels s’good, fuck,” he whimpers, going limp when he pulls out with a slick, obscene sound. Your eyes fall to Sabrina’s cunt, soaked and dripping with Matty’s cum.

“Look so pretty all fucked out. Both of you,” you grin, nudging Matty out of the way so you can lean down over Sabrina and kiss her messily, swallowing her gasp as you run your fingers over her sensitive clit. You lift your hand and suck the mess off, moaning graphically as their combined taste hits your tongue.

Hooking a leg around you, Sabrina flips you with surprising strength, knocking the wind from your lungs and leaving you gasping and grinning up at her. Her hips shift until her cunt presses against yours, and you whine at the pressure over your swollen, neglected clit. “Shit,” you whimper as she slowly rolls her hips down against yours, heat thrumming under your skin.

“They gave us a show,” she murmurs, tossing a smirk over her shoulder at George and Matty where they stare unashamedly. “Our turn now, right?”

You grind up against her, the flames in your belly leaping higher and higher with every moan that slips from her lips, Matty’s cum smeared between your bodies. Matty is crammed into George’s lap, the pair of them trading bruising kisses as they watch you. Their gaze is hot, a shameless stare that amplifies every burst of pleasure that rolls over you. George breaks away, holding his hand under Matty’s mouth and murmuring, “Spit.”

Matty obliges, and your eyes stay glued to George’s palm as he reaches down, closing his hand around their cocks and pumping slowly. You could almost cum just from Matty’s answering moan, the sight of them disappearing into George’s fist in a languid, teasing rhythm making your head spin. Sabrina leans down, catching your jaw and your attention. “God, they look good, huh? Gettin’ off together ‘cause they know we’re watching. Can feel how wet that’s makin’ you, doll.”

You give a strangled moan, unable to tear your eyes away from Matty and George, moaning into each other’s mouth and grinding sloppily together. Your head swims, drool pooling in your mouth the longer you lose yourself in the scene unfolding around you, rolling your hips ever faster as Sabrina tweaks your nipples, the brief flash of pain utterly intoxicating. Lust-struck, you gaze up at her, a filthy smirk stretching wide across her face as she grinds down against you. “Look at you,” she croons. “Gone all stupid with it, huh? Pretty cunt feels so fuckin’ good, baby. Wanna feel you cum against me so bad.”

Whining, you thrash your head back and forth, caught between watching Matty and George or Sabrina above you. Heat throbs in your skull, your world tunnelled down to the four walls of the bedroom, the four bodies grinding against each other. “Shit, G, feels s’fucking good, you feel so good, I wanna– fuck,” Matty whimpers, moaning helplessly against George’s mouth and grinding in his lap.

“God, he is just– ohh– the sweetest little thing. Trained him up so well, haven’t you, doll?” Sabrina murmurs, leaning down to graze the words against your lips, spit-slick as she licks into your mouth. Your soaked cunts kiss, arousal stringing between you as your vision blurs with lust.

It takes monumental effort to pull together a coherent sentence. “He fuckin’ loves being used like– mmh– like this. Just wanna get us off, don’t you, baby? Such a good little slut.” Your pulse roars in your ears, amplifying every soft, lewd sound breathed out into the heavy, warm air. Your muscles are tense, pulled taut like guitar strings ready to be plucked, waiting to be tuned to that rapturous frequency.

“Oh, fuck, m’gonna– I can’t– M’so close,” Matty moans, writhing helplessly against George as he leaves bruising kisses over his neck and chest.

“Greedy little whore wants to cum again,” Sabrina smirks, cheeks hot as she admires him, eyes lidded and almost black with lust. “D’you think he deserves it?”

Matty can barely control himself, desperate and wanton, flushed all over and quivering with need. “Please,” he says weakly, head thrown back and damp curls plastered to his forehead.

“He looks so pretty when he’s made a fuckin’ mess of himself. Go on, pretty boy. Cum,” you order, and he does. You can see it in his whole body, practically convulsing against George as ropes of cum spill over his fist and splash against their stomachs. George follows a second later, his fist slowing as he paints their bodies white. The whole thing is obscene, and you can feel Sabrina pulsing against you as she watches, the sensation rippling through you and bursting from your lips in a lewd moan.

Entranced, you watch as George, sweaty and panting, lifts his cum-covered hand to Matty’s lips. “So fucking filthy,” he croons. “Gotta clean up your mess, baby.” Matty sets to work eagerly, the sight absolutely pornographic. He moans lewdly as he laps at George’s skin, sucking on his fingers and rolling his eyes back in his head.

“God, tastes so good,” Matty moans, dizzying arousal filling your head as you grind desperately up against Sabrina. The tension pulling tight in your core is begging for release, hot, liquid ecstasy flooding your veins. You lose your grasp on time as you chase your pleasure against her, desire saturating every inch of your body.

“Oh, fuck!” you gasp, your body suddenly collapsing in on itself as your orgasm steals the breath from your lungs. Your brain is melting, liquid that drips from your ears and pools on the mattress, all your awareness cut loose as your high overtakes you. You’re fucking floating, cunt pulsing insistently and tiny, breathless gasps stumbling from your lips.

“Good girl,” Sabrina murmurs. “Such a good girl, cumming all pretty for me.” You can feel her words lulling you into submission, your body weak against the slow, sweet onslaught of praise. “She’s so fucking wet, could just fuckin’ fill her up right now and she’d hardly notice.” You whine out a barely comprehensible plea, begging instinctively before you even process her words. There’s a wicked glint in Matty’s eye when you turn your head, wrenching your awareness onto him as he climbs out of George’s lap. “Shit, you want a turn? C’mon, baby, go ahead. She’s fuckin’ gagging for it.”

Matty climbs over you, filling the space Sabrina left before you even notice she’s moved, her legs in the air under George as he pushes into her slowly. “Fuck, look at you,” Matty says, tone dark and promising. “Shit, y’such a mess. Pretty little slut.” He grips your jaw, pulling your mouth open and spitting on your waiting tongue. You swallow before he even has the chance to instruct you, and you swear the faint taste of cum lingers in your mouth. He grins proudly, giving you no warning before he fucks deep into you.

You can hardly speak, barely think, aware of nothing but Matty’s hips slamming against yours, the slick sounds of sex filling the room. Matty pours filth into your ear, condescending praise sliding against sweet degradation as he fills you over and over. A sound that’s half-scream, half-whine rings out, and it takes a moment for you to realise it’s yours. “So fuckin’ gorgeous all fucked out, doll,” Sabrina murmurs, turning your head to face her. Bliss is painted over her features as she kisses you, your lips slack as you struggle to muster up the ability to reciprocate. She pours whining gasps against your lips as she comes, face contorting as she writhes under George, enraptured. 

All you can feel is euphoria, winding tight around your organs as Matty rubs at your sensitive clit, his frantic rhythm choking you. You whimper what might be his name, your legs locked around his waist deepening his thrusts. “Doing so good, darling. Takin’ me so well. Y’always do,” he praises, your cunt clenching wantonly around him. “Y’gonna cum for me, baby? Fuckin’ soak my cock, yeah?”

He pinches your clit, the heat in your belly reaching dangerous levels. You’re sweating, trembling, your words slurred and pathetic as you teeter on the edge. “Wanna cum, please, need it s’bad, Matty, please!” you cry out, wanton and lust-sick and fucking desperate.

“So pathetic, darling. Such a little cockslut. Be a good girl and cum for me, yeah?” The words are all you need, tumbling into oblivion as Matty keeps fucking you, deep and hard and punishing as you cum impossibly hard. Your vision whites out, head spinning with pleasure and sensation and pure fucking carnality, the sounds escaping you animalistic in their hunger. Dizzy as you come to, Matty grins indulgently down at you, his pace now languid and relaxed. You clench around him, weak pleas spilling from your dry throat. “Aw, baby. Needy little cumslut. Don’t worry, baby. Gonna give you what you need,” he promises.

All you can do is lay back and fucking take it, letting Matty use you like a toy until he’s spilling inside you, moaning slickly and gasping out your name as his cock pulses. He pulls out of you, panting on his knees, and you finally catch your breath.

“Well, that was fun,” Sabrina chirps, somehow carefree despite her still-heaving chest. “Jesus, I feel disgusting. I need a shower, spliff and something to eat, in that order. Anyone coming?”

Given that you can barely move, you watch George follow her into the bathroom, unsurprised when you hear high, breathy moans echoing off the tile. Matty meets your eyes with a smirk. Fuck. You’re in for a long night.

[lonesome-sometimes]

I’ll lock and load

I’m not really sure where this came from but this is part two of your favourite centrefold so enjoy!

you were about to take a drag yourself when it was snatched back from your hold. you were going to make a quick witty comment to him about how you were a big girl and could smoke if you liked. however, matty wasn’t holding it, and you suddenly felt too crowded for your liking.

matty healy x female reader x george daniel

content warnings: rough sex, threesome (??), unprotected sex, dom matty, dom george, semi-public sex, cum play, degradation, daddy kink, age gap, slut shaming, mild praise kink, hair pulling, george is mean!

minors do not interact!

usually you would leave a quick fuck feeling fulfilled, with cum dripping out of you and into your panties and your hair a mess as you made your way back to your apartment, painting the perfect picture of a whore with a smug smile on your face.

this time though, you couldn’t get him out of your head. matty. remembering his name should have been the first sign. endless nights you spent teasing yourself, retracing where his hands left fingerprints on your hips as he used your body for his pleasure, how his voice sounded close to your ear as he put you in your place.

It was both heaven and torture, nothing you did ever coming close to the burning desire that had started when you met him. you went as far as to finding someone else to occupy your mind, going as far as going to another bar across the city to avoid seeing him but it wasn’t enough, nothing was. not your own hands, not another persons touch.

you were obsessed and you needed him.

tuesday came around and you couldn’t honestly help yourself. you spent the whole day pampering yourself, lathering your body in creams and perfumes that screamed femininity. closer to the evening, you pulled the baby blue strapless dress up over your thigh and hips, admiring the way it hugged you in all the right places as you fixed your curled hair. you pushed your feet into your heels, applying the last of your makeup, making sure your lip gloss was perfect and the blush on your cheeks a pretty pink, before grabbing your shoulder bag. you looked beautiful, stunning even, the perfect picture of feminine.

It never took you long, picking this specific bar all those months ago for that very reason. you composed yourself as you reached the building, getting into character as you pushed open the door and the familiarity of the place easing your nerves as you entered further in. you didn’t do your usual glance around at the customers this time though, knowing exactly where you were headed, what you were looking for.

you couldn’t help but smile when you found him, sitting in a booth in the corner of the dimly lit room, a contrast to the light, angelic vibe of your outfit. he pretended not to notice you as you sauntered over to his table, making sure to swing your hips as you did. he picked up the packet of cigarettes, placing one between his teeth and letting his gaze wander up and down your body in fake disinterest like it did the first time you met.

you sat down across from him, making yourself comfortable as he chuckled and put the lighter down, leaning back in his chair. “didn’t I tell you I don’t fuck whores like you?” he questioned, letting the tab hang from his lips.

you put out your bottom lip to resemble a pout, crossing your arms like a petulant child and feigning upset. “a hello would have been nice. are not happy to see me, daddy? I’m so happy to see you. I even got dressed up for you.” you whine, crossing and uncrossing your legs to reveal the white lace panties you wore underneath that matched the stockings adorning your legs to emphasise your point.

“dressed is an understatement.” he commented nonchalantly. “whatever happened to not going in for seconds?” he asked, trying his hardest not to let his eyes linger up your skirt. you guessed people talked, judging from last time when he knew your intentions before even having to say anything. you didn’t mind that, it made your life easier. people still tried though, begging for your number and promising you all you could want.

you always said no though, promising yourself you would never lower yourself to that. promises were made to be broken though, and you had everything you could ever want right in front of you.

“does that make me an exception?” he asked, pulling the cigarette from his lips as he raised his eyebrows at you.

you leaned across the table, plucking the cigarette from between his fingers and holding it between your own. your face was close to his now, lips ghosting yours as you smiled. “you could say that.”

you were about to take a drag yourself when it was snatched back from your hold. you were going to make a quick witty comment to him about how you were a big girl and could smoke if you liked. however, matty wasn’t holding it, and you suddenly felt too crowded for your liking.

“I’m hurt, princess. he gets an exception, but not me?” you whip your head around so fast you swear it could have done a full turn around, taking in the sight of the tall, broad blonde standing above you.

george.

he smirked at the dumbfounded look on your face, not expecting him to be here as well as matty. this wasn’t part of your plan, and while you’re not disappointed, all your confidence was now lost. you turn around again when you hear that same deep chuckle from before, scowling at matty as he takes a sip of his drink.

“surprised, are we? I don’t just come here to fuck little whores like you, although I didn’t exactly do that last time did I?” you blush a deep crimson, suddenly embarrassed now that you were sandwiched between the two men. “I actually want to have a drink with my mate, so if you could get-“

george coos from above you, sliding down into the booth next to you and placing a hand high on your upper thigh. “that’s not very nice, matthew. she’s ready to break her ever so strict rules just for you, and you’re gonna tell her get lost?” he teases condescendingly, power dripping from his tone.

matty sinks back in his chair, also embarrassed from being put in his place so quickly. interesting.

george turns to you now, cocking his head to one side as he drinks up the sight of you. “cat got your tongue? nothing to say for yourself now, hm?” you felt utterly helpless, trying your best to find words but facing defeat. you swallowed the lump in your throat, eyes dancing between the two of them until finally your brain began to somewhat work.

“I guess I could make two exceptions?”

suddenly, you’re being pulled to your feet and towards the bathrooms, the door clicking lock behind you as you’re pushed between the two of them. you feel matty first, his hands making home on your hips and in your hair again as he pulled you flush against his chest. pushing your skirt up, he started to grind his cock against your ass and thighs, a feeling you know all too familiar that had you whimpering. you couldn’t take that again, especially not with both of them here.

you felt george next, his body pressing tightly against yours as he titled your chin up with two fingers. his lips ghosted over yours, so close you could feel his breath mixing with your own. you pouted your lips, silently begging him to kiss you but it never came.

you heard matty unzipping his jeans behind you, a deep groan escaping him as his throbbing cock his the air and bounced against his stomach. you whimpered, desperate for george’s attention as he pushed your dress up over your ass, pushing your panties to the side with it as he lined himself up.

you moaned high in your throat as he finally, finally pushed inside of you. your walls clenched around him, pulling him home as he bottomed out. “fuck, baby! you feel so good hugging my cock just right. was it worth the wait, huh darling? worth whoring yourself out once more?” he pulled almost all the way out of you before pushing back in, precum dripping from your entrance and down the slope of your thighs. he fucked into you deep but fast, almost pulling out each time. It felt like he was rearranging your organs with each thrust, a piece of him making home inside you with each pulse of his cock or slap to your thighs. It felt fucking good.

you felt george’s fingers tracing your glossed lips then, a silent order to open. you did as you were told, whimpering when you felt the thick digits cover your tongue and slide down your throat. you felt so full, but not full enough, completely overstimulated by the two men as you were pressed between them. george continued to open your throat up with his fingers, holding your jaw with his other hand to keep you exactly where he wanted you. “such a whore for matty, aren’t you princess? being such a good girl just for him.”

you shook your head, trying your best to tell him that you were his slut too, that you needed him just as much, but his fingers were too thick and too deep and matty was fucking you so good that you couldn’t form a single thought.

“fuck darling, I’m-“ matty groaned, bottoming out as he finished deep inside you, your walls hugging him tightly as you came on his cock and nothing else. george pulled his fingers from your throat, wiping your spit across your flushed cheeks.

matty slapped your ass as he pulled out of you, cum already starting to drip down your thighs. mesmerised, he gathered the cum on his fingers and pushed it back inside you, making a comment about how he wanted you to feel him as deep as possible.

you whined when you felt the loss of georges touch next, trying your best to stand upright as he moved towards the door. “w-where are you going?”

he looked at you puzzled, as if you had said the most confusing thing known to man. “I’m going back to enjoy my drink and so is he, what we actually came here to do.” he said as though it was obvious, gesturing to matty as he turned towards the door again. matty stood behind him, same look on his face from the first time.

“but you never… george? please?” you never usually begged, that definitely wasn’t your style, but you really couldn’t help yourself. you had been pent up for a whole week, and the idea of leaving with that same need as last time did not sound fun.

“oh sweetheart.” he started, moving back towards you and crowding your space again. he brought his hands to your face, holding it in his hands as he gently left a chaste kiss on your glossed lips. you realise you hadn’t actually kissed either of them, the thought leaving a pit in your stomach. he pretended to feel bad, being gentle with you as an apology he never meant for leaving you here needy, but you could see right through him. “you never came here for me, did you? you came for him. I guess you’ll just have to try again next week, won’t you?”

the feeling of fulfilment never came, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. there was always next week and you were sure you would be back for thirds.

[god-has-entered-my-body]

Twist around the lounge - George Daniel & Matty Healy

A/N: i've been writing since 10am also this is barely spellchecked @beforeyougo-turnthebiglightoff ur a legendary beta thank u for fixing the fuckass formatting xx

wc: 5k

content warnings: super gay, smut, fluff, kissing, power dynamics, fingering, handjobs, blowjobs, begging, teasing, threesome, masturbation, voyeurism, exhibitionism, so gay, pain kink, cumplay, sub! matty, switch(?)! george, shy G oh my god, they get high moments before they fuck so tw for that, allusions to pegging (i reckon that isn't even a warning but better be safe xx)

“What happened to ‘girls don’t roll their own spliffs?’” George comments as you drag your tongue along the paper, the question directed at Matty. You roll your eyes dramatically, holding your hand as George passes you the lighter and you flick it on, rotating for an even burn. Matty shakes his head from across you, adjusting his legs under him he wipes his thumb on the glass of the coffee table.

“There's some things I'm willing to give up.” he settles on a vague answer, eyes darting over your face as you chuckle at the implication. Your legs shift over George’s lap to a more comfortable position as you take the first drag, letting the smoke curl around you in pretty patterns.

Passing the lit spliff to Matty, you pick at your nails as you let the hazy sensation take over your body, though it's not quite as strong as you’d like.

A soft breeze from the open window kisses your skin and you close your eyes, enjoying the feeling. George lets his arms splay out on either side in a relaxed manner, sucking in a deep breath as he watches Matty inhale the smoke, his eyes drooping closed when it hits him, a lazy smile spreading onto his face.  

Matty blows an O in your direction and you catch it like a kiss, shooting him a wink. Too distracted by you looking at him, Matty manages to fumble the spliff, letting it drop into the sliver of skin exposed by the mid-length black skirt he’s wearing.

“Fuck– shit, fucking bullshit-” he curses, brushing hot ash off his leg, hissing in discomfort. 

“Hm, I thought you liked pain?” you joke, eyeing him up and down in a teasing manner, giggling quietly. George perks up slightly at your words, his eyes darting between you and Matty.

“Not like that, you know well enough the type I enjoy.” he breathes, wiping his fingers on his skirt to rid them of the black residue from the ash, going to take another drag. 

You expect a fucked off groan from George, the typical annoyed expression you’re used to replaced by one of undeniable intrigue, his eyebrows raised in curiosity. Matty looks up, a bit confused at the lack of conversation, a heavy silence falling over the three of you. George runs an unsteady hand through his hair as Matty blows smoke, his eyes getting visibly redder as the seconds tick by. 

The silence is broken by George’s deep voice, timid and unsure.

“What do you mean he likes… uhm- pain?” The end of his sentence is punctuated by an uncharacteristic voice crack, your eyes narrowing at the odd question. It takes a few seconds for the words to finally register as Matty hands George the spliff, their hands lingering in a way that could be labeled as more than platonic if you looked close enough.

The more you look, the faster the gears in your head turn. You can see a thousand thoughts running through Matty’s mind as George stares at both of you, a faint blush dusting his cheeks at the obscenity of the question. It finally clicks for Matty when he sees him looking at the bit of skin visible over the collar of his shirt, littered with multicolored hickeys and bite marks.

“Oh you know, just like….” you trail off, moving your legs from their position on George’s lap, sitting up in a more normal position.

“I like it when she pulls my hair.” Matty’s bluntness almost makes you cringe, but the feeling of embarrassment is curbed by the look on George’s face, his lips parted in surprise at the answer. The curly haired boy smirks at you mischievously, eyes flicking between you and George, waiting for one of you to answer.

“Oh, uhm– thats-” George stutters, his voice incredibly meek right before Matty cuts him off.

“Really fucking hot? Yeah, mate, you wouldn't believe.” your eyes widen at the conversation being held right now, and you try to gather your words to steer it away from whatever this was, hoping and praying Matty hadn't spooked George into never wanting to speak to either of you ever again.

“Yeah, it is.” George breathes, no stutter in sight as Matty watches his every move, acting accordingly. In what feels like a fraction of a second, you suddenly feel the weight of a body in your lap, and it takes a moment to realize its Matty, straddling you like George isn’t sitting two fucking feet away from you.

His lips catch yours in a searing hot kiss, all tongue and teeth as our mouths work against each other, quiet wet sound filling the space as you feel George’s eyes on you, shamelessly staring. 

“See? I was right.” Matty murmurs against your lips, vaguely gesturing in the direction of an incredibly flustered George, his confidence unfaltering. You pull away for a few moments, cocking your head in confusion as you see him set the spliff down in the corner of your eye, bright pink ashtray glimmering in the dim light.

“Our little Georgie here,” he cuts himself off with another peck to your bruised lips before continuing. “likes to watch, don't you, love?” The pet name makes George visibly twitch, Matty’s sultry words evoking something primal in him, something he’d never felt before. You feel his hand trail down your chest, grazing over your nipples as he caresses your skin, his touch tantalizing. Turning your head slightly, you see a sight that will be ingrained into your frontal lobe until the day you die. Georges nods, confirming Matty’s suspicions and you gasp as curls brush under your jaw, hot lips pressed to your collarbones. 

The energy in the room shifts dramatically as George makes a move towards the two of you. He opens his mouth to speak once, twice, until he finally manages to force a string of words out.

“W-what else–” Matty stops, turning towards him with a look of encouragement, nodding at the clearly nervous blonde.

“What else does she– does she do..?” The question is directed at Matty, his eyes avoiding you at all costs, too shy to even look at you properly.

“Fuck, she makes me hurt so good, m’dizzy even thinking ‘bout it.”

George's breath hitches and you can tell he's turned on by the way Matty moans the words, grinning maniacally at the both of you, this whole situation like a dream come true for him.

“See this?” Matty hooks his fingers into the collar of his shirt, pulling it down to reveal a myriad of bruises and marks, flaunting them to George. You can see a small part of him wish George would touch him, run the rough pads of his fingers over his pale skin, maybe even press down onto the fresh splotches of color.

“Got a bit too annoying so she put me in my place, marked me up all pretty.” Endless nights spent holding him down, murmuring into his ear, your mouth attached to his throat as he whines spin in your head, the memories going straight between your legs as you absentmindedly spread them, and action not going unnoticed by Matty.

“Fucking hell.” George mutters, entranced by the scene in front of him, trying to convince himself he was dreaming. You don't even notice how close he really is until Matty grabs the edge of his half unbuttoned shirt, smashing his lips against his. A startled gasp escapes George before he melts into the kiss and Matty moans, licking into his mouth at a dizzying pace. 

Your heart beats against your ribcage when George threads his dominant hand into his curls, tugging experimentally. The action is tentative, unsure, but Matty’s wanton groan spurs him on, a sudden rush of confidence making him pull harder, earning more sounds from him. A high pitched moan spills from Matty’s lips as George slips his tongue past them, the sight pornographic as you watch them, eyes darting between the two men. 

Letting out a groan of protest when Matty pulls away, you catch the beginnings of a smirk right before George presses his lips to yours, his stubble scratching along your chin roughly. It feels different yet so, so fucking good as he groans into your mouth.

“Fuck, that's so hot.” Matty breathes, running his fingers through his hair, still perched in your lap as George continues kissing you frantically, wanting to feel every inch of your lips. 

You barely notice Matty sinking to his knees while George keeps you busy, your eyes screwed shut tightly as a carnal desire takes over your body, lighting every fiber of it aflame. Both of them can visibly see how worked up you are the moment Matty slides your shorts down your thighs, your hips lifting to help him out. There's a visible wet patch on the front of your panties, one that makes George gasp when he sees it, breaking the kiss. 

“Oh, don't stop on my account.” Matty pouts, not liking this you-and-George-not-kissing turn of events. George catches your lips again, the kiss searing hot as his hand finds your jaw, his chest pressed up to the side of your body.

“Gorgeous, isn't she?” you giggle at Matty’s words, letting one of your hands thread through his hair as he mouths along your thigh, licking over your clothed cunt. His fingers play with the hem of the cotton, making you shiver at the coldness of his fingers against your skin. 

“You should see him in a bit of silk, takes your fucking breath away.” you whisper to George, quietly wondering if he did have a pretty little number on under that skirt of his.

“Fuck, seriously?” George says, almost to himself, looking down and locking eyes with Matty. Matty rests his cheek on your thigh, his fingers slowly pushing the fabric of your panties to the side.

“Shame I didn't have time to prepare, would've even gotten those pretty little garters out. Love those, don't you?” You nod, smiling at George as the mental image flickers in front of his eyes, fantasies running wild in his mind. 

You feel rough fingers against the skin of your stomach, and you realize what the blonde is hinting at.

“Can I..” he trails off before he can even finish his sentence and you nod, urging him to rid you of the unnecessary material. A choked gasp spills from his lips when he realizes the lack of bra under your top, his hands shamelessly groping your tits as you moan, fingers toying with your nipples meanly. 

His mouth finds the space between your tits, leaving aggressive marks in his wake as Matty watches the scene in front of him unfold, licking his bottom lip. Matty’s fingers dip under your underwear, applying pressure to your clit making your hips buck upward, searching for more pleasure as Matty grins up from below you.

“Fuck– you’re so tight.” he murmurs as his digits sink into you, stroking against your walls at a dizzying pace, your head spinning at the blinding ecstasy. 

A desperate moan escapes you as George feels you up, your chest looking eerily similar to Matty’s as your nails dig into the cushions of the sofa, your feeble attempt at grounding yourself. Matty presses soft kisses to the inside of your thigh as you writhe under his touch, sucking lightly and leaving similar marks to George, if not a bit less harsh. 

“Matty, please– m’so close.” you whine, cut off by George’s lips against yours, all the oxygen in your lungs being knocked out of them in a split second, leaving you feeling weightless. Your vision is blurry as your orgasm approaches, the coil in your belly winding impossibly tight as Matty’s hand reaches up to graze your stomach reassuringly. A rough hand grabs yours and you open your eyes fully to realize it's George’s, smiling softly as Matty brings you to that delicious edge.

You cum with a whimper of his name, gripping the blonde’s hand so tightly you might've cut off the blood supply to his fingertips, pleasure washing over you in tidal waves, your hips unabashedly grinding down onto Matty’s fingers.  

It takes a few minutes for you to properly come to, your chest heaving with effort as Matty kisses your thighs sweetly, gazing up into your eyes. A beat of silence passes between the three of you as you and Matty exchange silent conversation, George blinking rapidly at what he had just witnessed. He still felt like he was dreaming, his whole body floating above the mortal plane as you move to get up, Matty shuffling to the side to make his way between George’s legs, giving you space to do the same.

“You don't have to– I can just-” he stutters, so unsure of himself it's adorable, his face flushed a deep shade of red. You smile to yourself as Matty speaks, his confident tone having a visible effect on the boy above you.

“Do you want us to? Because I want you both so fucking bad.” Matty’s hands grope George's thighs, playing with the buckle of his belt cheekily as he peers up at him, his eyes dancing with desire. 

“Let him take these off you, hm?” You trace your fingers over his stomach where his shirt had ridden up slightly, making him twitch. The movement reminds you of Matty, yet still starkly different.

“Yeah, okay– fuck.” he groans as delicate hands unbuckle his belt, the clinking of metal making your heart thrum in your chest in anticipation. Matty’s fingers start unbuttoning his jeans, stealing a glance at your face, signaling you to take over. George’s cock is hard, precum leaking from his tip as he strains against his grey boxers, a sight you commit to memory

Matty’s now free hands grip the back of your head, pulling you into a messy kiss, so clearly for show it makes your head spin at the mere implication that George was getting turned on from watching you. Your hand finds the front of George’s boxers, palming his cock through them as soft groans fill the room, his legs shaking at the sudden stimulation.

“So ready for us, hm? Should've done this earlier if it got me that.” Matty gestures to the blonde's face, scrunched up in ecstasy as you take him out of the confines of his underwear, fisting the base of his cock. Settling into a more comfortable position on your knees, you take the tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it as George gasps, screwing his eyes shut in pleasure. 

Matty takes the few spare seconds to grab at the hem of his shirt, sliding it off of him to reveal his bare chest, glistening with sweat and adorned in tattoos. The sight of him half naked never ceases to make you stutter, the low rise of his skirt only adding to the inherent erotic energy surrounding him.

It takes effort to take all of him into your mouth, Matty watching intently as you choke, sputtering on his cock with spit dribbling down your chin obscenely.

“Look how well she’s taking you, feels so fucking good I bet.” Matty reaches down to touch himself to the scene in front of him, letting his face fall onto one of George's thighs. Soft whimpers and moans spill from his lips, barely audible over George’s masculine groans, the juxtaposition making you feel lightheaded as one of his hands finds its way to the top of your head, resting there. 

“Please– fuck, feels so good. Keep doing tha- ohhh shit, fuck.” The head of his cock hits the back of your throat, making you gag. Matty presses an encouraging hand to your lower back. One glance up makes your breath hitch. George isn’t looking at you, but at Matty, his hand disappearing under the waistband of his velvety skirt, squeezing himself through his underwear. The air is charged with lust, the eye contact between the two men so intense you can feel it in your bones. 

Matty’s eyes are glazed over with desperation, the sight of you getting George off fulfilling every fantasy he’s ever had. He’s sure nothing could ever top this, silently begging this wouldn't be the last time it would happen. Matty brushes strands of hair out of your face, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek as you deepthroat George, tears threatening to spill at the effort.

You feel his cock twitch in your mouth, a low groan following as his hand goes slack in your hair, his hips bucking involuntarily. Sincere apologies spill from his lips and you pull off him, wiping your mouth and assuring him everything was alright, offering him a sickeningly sweet smile like you didn't just have his cock down your throat. 

“Make him cum, darling, I wanna see him cum– shit.” Matty whines, eyes begging you. You nod, a smirk spreading onto your face as you take George back into your mouth, his immediate groans of pleasure letting you know just how close he really is. Matty watches as you manage to not gag, making George throw his head back in ecstasy, moaning your name like a prayer. 

The thing that finally does him in? Matty’s hand grazing over the skin of his arm, making him spill into your mouth with a cry, the musky taste of his cum filling your senses. George shakes, actually shakes at the force of his orgasm, hair sticking to his forehead. An idea pops into your head moments before you swallow, and you turn your head to Matty, tapping his bottom lip with your index finger.

Matty’s eyes widen as he realizes what you want to do, his tongue lolling out of his mouth as he opens it. You let cum drop into his mouth, some of it missing and hitting his lips, a pornographic moan ripping itself from Matty’s throat at the salty, distinct taste of George.

“Love tasting you on my tongue, shit.” Matty mutters at George, growing impossibly harder at the eroticism of it all, his cock visibly tenting his skirt. 

You lick a stripe up the side of his neck, bringing your wet lips to his ear and whispering into it.

“Get up on the sofa for me baby, let's get you off.” you speak, your words sultry and coated with thick honey, making both Matty and George shiver. 

The curly haired boy nods frantically at your request, scrambling up to find his seat next to George, still panting from his recent orgasm, and the proximity to Matty definitely not helping his current state. You let out a sigh Matty knows all too well, searching your expression to decode what you really meant. It clicks for him when your eyes flicker over to George’s lap, grinning wildly as he clocks it, draping one of his legs over George in a heartbeat. 

Using his body weight to hoist himself to a sitting position, he relishes in the surprised sounds George makes, stuttering over his words while trying to process the events unfolding. Something shifts when Matty makes direct eye contact with him, that sight probably the hottest thing you’ve ever seen in your life.

“God, you’re so pretty.” George mutters, his lips inches away from Matty’s as they both breathe heavily.

“He is, isn't he?” you grin, your thoughts running wild as your eyes dart around the space, your breath hitching when they land on the discarded leather belt right in front of you, innocent and unassuming.   

Matty is the one who initiates the kiss, immediately taking George’s bottom lip between his teeth, biting down meanly as the blonde gasps into his mouth, pupils completely blown out. Both of them are completely breathless, too caught up in each other to notice you get up and circle around to stand behind Matty, leather in hand.

Matty’s eyes fly open when he feels you grab his arms suddenly, the belt clamped between your teeth as you pull them back, a small yelp spilling from his lips. George notices your movements, knitting his eyebrows in confusion before he realizes that you’re restraining him, the thought making his heart race. The metal clinking is deafeningly loud as his movement is restricted, a high-pitched whine leaving Matty.

“He loves this, look at how hard he is.” you say, your lips pressed to George’s ear as Matty’s hips twitch, bucking up against nothing, desperate for any kind of friction. He’s been hard for the better part of an hour now, watching and talking but never getting off. You see George hesitate, his hand ghosting over the bulge under his skirt while Matty yearns for his touch, eyes pleading with both of you simultaneously.  

“Touch him baby, promise he doesn't bite.” you coo, letting your fingers linger on the leather, tracing the small designs of the belt.

“Unless you want me to.” he bites his lip at George, earning a chuckle from both you and him. The lip bite, despite being ironic, still made something in you stir. 

“I don’t know how– i’ve never-” George whispers, deathly afraid of messing up, afraid of ruining this perfect moment.

“It's alright love, just–” Matty speaks, cocking his head in a sweet manner as George looks at him, red dusting his otherwise pale cheeks.

“Do what you do to yourself when you’re alone, yeah?” Matty reassures him, writhing against the restraints as George tentatively palms his cock over the velvety material.

The thought of George getting himself off is something you file away for later, the mental imagine making the heat between your legs grow exponentially, and you squeeze your thighs together to relieve some of that pressure.  

“Ah, fuck.” Matty whimpers, and you see the blonde flipping the fabric of his skirt up against his stomach, the clothing bunching up at his waist.

“Look how much he wants you, basically begging for you to get him off.” you speak slowly, drinking in the scene in front of you with a primal hunger, the bulge in Matty’s boxers adorned with a wet patch on the front of them. 

“So responsive, isn’t he?” 

Matty whimpers as George finally reaches into his boxers, taking him out and wrapping a hand around his leaking cock, beads of precum bubbling at the tip. George mirrors the movements he uses on himself, eyes searching the other boy’s expression for any sign of discomfort. Instead, he’s met with a blissed out Matty, face contorting in pleasure as George’s hand works him, using his precum as lube.

“Hear that?” you speak, taking in Matty writhing against George, wet lips parted as his eyes droop shut in ecstasy, wanton whines filling the room. You can see abandoned spliff in the ashtray across from you, last remnants of smoke curling in the air as the weed goes to waste, reminding you of how this situation even came to be.

“Those are the same noises he makes when I fuck him.” Your inflection makes the sentence all the more erotic as George stares at both of you wide-eyed, scenes playing out in his mind like a film.

“Y-you-” He stutters and you nod, Matty’s face flushing in a way you don't quite recognise. He’s embarrassed. A smirk tugs at the corners of your mouth as you realize this, finally finding his Achilles heel. That spot was George.

“Yeah, and he takes it, takes whatever I give him. He’ll take whatever you give him, too.” A choked whine leaves Matty’s lips as you speak about him like he isnt even there. He leans forward, resting his cheek in the crook of George’s neck as he makes eye contact with you, fucking panting like a dog in heat. 

“Shit, your hand feels so fucking good.” Matty whimpers, his cock twitching in George's grip as he speeds up his movements, basking in the curly haired boy's praise. Sweat makes Matty’s curls stick to his forehead, his bare chest glistening in the dim light of the living room. You watch as George gets him off, so blatantly turned on by the boy in his lap that it's genuinely laughable. 

“Let me see you, wanna see your pretty face.” George mutters against Matty’s hair, catching you both by surprise. Matty pulls back, a clear look of arousal at the boy’s words, his lips parted in a way that shows you he’s so, so close to the edge it's physically painful for him. 

“Make me cum, please– i’m so fucking close, feels so good, G, fuckk.” Matty braces himself as you trail your fingers up and down his spine, shivers blooming through his whole body as his orgasm rushes at him full throttle. George’s hand squeezes his cock roughly, the slight note of pain sending white-hot pleasure straight to Matty’s lower half, making him moan desperately as George murmurs against his jaw.

The audible sounds of frustration as Matty pulls at the belt restraining his arms is incredibly hot, your tongue darting out to lick a stripe along his throat as he gasps, the stimulation feeling like pure heaven

“That's it, baby, let go for us, doing so well.” George groans, his commanding tone of voice sending Matty hurling over the edge, his orgasm crashing over him so violently tears start to stream down his face as he cums all over George’s stomach and his own, panting their skin as you watch, a soft noise slipping past your lips.

George works Matty through his high, watching every reaction, expression, and movement he offers him, his hand steadily slowing down as Matty’s full body twitches subside, high.pitched pants and whines spilling from his lips as he closes his eyes, basking in the afterglow.

“Fuck- that was.”    

“The hottest thing you’ve ever seen?” You smirk, finishing his sentence for him with a cheeky wink. It takes a few beats for George to fully come down from his power trip, eyes darting between you and Matty as he registers the compromising position he is currently in. You notice his slight panic, resting a reassuring hand on his shoulder, acting as his tether to reality. 

“Is this going to happen again?” The question is heavy on the three of you for a moment, but eye contact with Matty tells you he already has an answer.

“Do you want it to?” Though he is still restrained, Matty is as cocky as ever, raising his eyebrows at George in a teasing manner. You watch as George gathers his words, your heart thrumming against your ribcage in anticipation. 

“That depends,” George says, sounding confident. 

“Depends on what?” Matty cocks his head and you mirror the movement, equally as confused at his statement. The curly haired boy is still out of breath, his panting ruining the calm and collected demeanor he tries so desperately to portray.   

“Depends if you take it as well as she says you do.” he gestures to you, your smirk growing as Matty flushes a deep shade of crimson, squirming under George’s touch as he rests his hands on his velvet covered hips. You chuckle quietly before answering, making deliberate eye contact with George and George only.

“Oh trust me, my sweet G, he does.”  

[toomuchracket]

family dinner (sweetheart!george x reader fluff)

part of promptober75 2024!! a cute little fic set just after you and george have reunited, with cameos from everyone's favourite flatmates. enjoy <3

“more wine?”

“please,” you smile at your friend - as politely as you can through a mouthful of bread, that is - as she tops up your glass. “this chicken is really nice, by the way. the whole evening is, actually - thanks for letting me intrude on it, guys.”

matty scoffs. “you're not intruding, mate. we missed you! why wouldn't we wanna spend time with you? right, darlin?”

he nudges his girlfriend, who nods enthusiastically. “of course. i’m so glad you agreed to eat with us tonight,” she nudges matty in return, grinning, and you watch, also grinning, as he kisses her nose. “i've missed flatmate friday dinners. they're so special to me.”

“i did quite like when it was just the two of us, though,” matty caresses her face; a beat later, he sits bolt upright and looks at you, panic-stricken, and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing at the familiarity of the expression. “i didn't mean it like that, by the way, i just meant that-”

“you liked pretending that you were having date night before you were actually together?” you nod sympathetically as matty goes scarlet. “oh, you've not changed a bit, matty, you lovelorn little sap.”

he hides his face in his hands, voice muffled. “shut up.”

“no, keep going,” his girlfriend laughs, wrapping her arms around him and pressing a kiss to his head. “i like hearing about how much you fancied me before you finally cracked and admitted it. after, y'know, seven fucking years, baby.”

“oh, babe, it was serious,” you dramatically take a sip of your wine, gazing off into the distance as you recount one of your many memories of matty being hopelessly in love with her, while the boy in question groans. “the time he broke into george's at half six in the morning and quite literally wriggled between us in bed so he could analyse the ten-minute phone call you'd had the night before is a personal favourite of mine.”

your friend throws her head back, cackling, while matty sits up just to scowl at you. “i didn't break in - i used the spare key.”

his girlfriend snorts. “but you did wriggle between them? in bed?”

“well, yeah.”

“cockblocked us and all,” you pipe up.

“you were literally fully clothed and dead asleep. both of you.”

“george was fully clothed?” your friend's brow furrows. “was he ill?”

“dunno. i didn't talk to him, really, in that instance,” matty nods at you. “she was the only one who knew everything about how i felt. even when she moved away.”

“really?”

you nod. “really. so, y'know, getting to see the two of you together like this… it's really special,” you take another drink of wine, sighing contentedly. “i love love.”

matty laughs, reaching across to squeeze your hand. “how's your love life going, by the way? any developments to share?”

you sigh, taking a long drink of wine as you ponder your response; you could be honest, and say really bloody good. george and i are back together. but no - better to discuss that with him first. “it's… promising, i think. that guy i've been seeing, well, he and i are exclusive, now.”

“oh, amazing!” your friend claps excitedly. “i want to meet him. oh!” her face lights up, and it becomes glaringly obvious both why matty fell in love with her and just how much you missed her when you were away. “he should come to friday dinner next week. or the week after. just so he can meet us properly, you know?”

matty laughs. “alright, emily gilmore.”

“fuck off, matthew,” she rolls her eyes while you and matty giggle, smiling at you once the glee subsides. “seriously, though, you should bring him. we don't bite.”

her boyfriend raises a brow. “the marks on my collarbone would like a word.”

“matthew, for fuck's sake,” she shakes her head, as you do your best not to spit out your wine laughing. “sorry, babe. promise i'll have him housebroken soon, and you can invite your man over.”

“oh, he won't mind,” because he's known matty longer than either of us have. “i'll text him now and ask, yeah?”

“please do.”

you nod, sliding your phone out of your pocket and tapping onto your text thread with george. you've been formally invited for dinner at the flat next friday btw. well, the mysterious person i've just gone exclusive with has lol

he replies almost instantly, cry-laughing emojis preceding have i to dress up?

you: suit. tie is optional xxx

george: oh you'd love that wouldn't you, i remember you after prom 😈

fr tho have i to dress up

you: nah

you DO have to be on time tho. 6pm on the dot

george: sweet

can i stay over lol

you: if you're good x

george: what you talking about i'm always good for you

but yeah i'll be there

phone me later?

you: defo. ly <3

george: ly2 <3

you giggle as you lay your phone down; matty notices, and smirks. “good news?”

“he'll be here at 6 next week,” you can't help smiling when they cheer, but you shush them so you can keep talking. “and you both better be nice to him. like, normal-nice.”

your friend nods. “of course.”

“s'not you i'm worried about, babe,” you turn to her boyfriend, looking him dead in the eye. “please, matty, don't be fucking weird next week. i don't wanna fuck this up,” you catch yourself before again slips out. “i really like this one.”

“all the more reason to ask him what his intentions are with you, then,” matty shrugs - his face softens when he sees your fraught expression, and he reaches across to hold your hand again. “i am joking, by the way, darling. i'll be nice. you know i just want you to be happy, yeah? we both do.”

“yeah, i know,” you squeeze his hand. “i hope next week goes well.”

“it will. here, let me get you more wine.”

the rest of the meal passes without further mention of next week, save your friend asking what sort of food your new partner likes. given that she and matty are too busy gazing lovingly at each other to think logically, neither of them seem to realise you're rhyming off george's favourites and least favourites in your reply, which is common knowledge to everyone who's ever spent five minutes trying to decide on a takeaway to order from with him; in fact, you think you've managed to completely dispel any connections between the upcoming dinner and george at all, until you're settled in your room an hour and a half later and your tv watching is interrupted by a knock at the door.

at your word, your friend inches round the doorframe, ring binder in hand. “hey. d'you have a minute?”

“course,” you mute the tv, pulling yourself out of your blanket tangle. “what's up?”

she sighs, waving the folder. “work stuff. how good's your latin?”

“shite. you used to help me, remember?”

“fuck, you're right,” she laughs, dragging her free hand down her face. “work's melting my head, honestly.”

you pat the space on the bed beside you. “can take your mind off of it by watching this with me, if you like.”

she steps further into the room, brow furrowing. “what even are you… oh my god,” the folder thwacks against the mattress, forgotten as she clambers onto the bed beside you and sighs at the screen; the déja vu of the moment is so strong you have to blink a few times to remember what year you're actually in. “i haven't watched the o.c. in so long.”

“really? you were obsessed.”

“shut up, you were worse than i was,” she lightly smacks you on the shoulder, then rests her head on it. you don't have to look at her to know that she's smiling when she next speaks. “reckon we used to drive the boys mental with this, you know.”

“we did. george actually banned me from saying the words ‘seth cohen’ at one point.”

“fuck off,” she giggles, the sound fading into a hum. “i think matty preferred him in gilmore girls, to be honest.”

you roll your eyes. “of course he fucking did. being in a band and making a girlfriend out of a friend because of it? that was, like, his biggest dream,” your voice softens, and you nudge her. “he's loved you a really fucking long time, you know.”

“yeah. me too, you know, with him.”

the confirmation makes your heart glow - still, you can't resist poking fun. “and yet you told me fuck all.”

“i was worried you'd tell george! and he'd tell matty! and… well, we might've ended up like this a lot sooner, actually,” she huffs out a laugh, while you giggle at the way her defensiveness faded to acceptance in the span of about a second. suddenly, though, she turns to look at you properly, face serious. “speaking of him, by the way - does he actually know you're seeing someone?”

you chew the inside of your cheek as you deliberate on the best answer, teeth finding the scar tissue left over from the wire of the braces you had at thirteen as they've always done since then; the irony of returning to an imprint from your teenage years in this moment isn't lost on you. with as casual a shrug as you can muster, you reply. “i've brought it up to him.”

“how'd he take it?”

this one is easier to answer. “well, you know george, he keeps things close to his chest. but,” you shuffle position slightly, a means of distracting your friend from the grin you know you're doing a dreadful job of biting back. “he seemed happy. for me, you know,” you tag that on as an afterthought. and, because you can't resist - “he told me he's seeing someone, too, actually. early days, i think.”

“oh,” she's taken aback, it’s clear, but she recovers quickly and gives you a small smile. “well, that's good.”

you raise a brow. you know her better than this. “but…”

she sighs. “but… alright, just hear me out, yeah? promise?”

“promise.”

“good,” she exhales, playing with her necklace the way she's always done when she's nervous. “you know i love you, and i am so glad you're back - we all are, we missed you so much - and i'm also really glad you're happy, and that you're seeing someone. it's just that, well,” she grimaces. “i'm worried about george.”

oh, bless her. “you are?”

“yeah. just, y'know, what with you back and dating and,” she cuts herself off, shaking her head. “you weren't the only friend i lost after you moved away, babe. not being with you… it fucked george up, really fucked him up. and of course i know it must've done the same to you, but…” she smiles sadly. “i didn't have to see that with you, but i did with him, and i truly, truly can't go through it again. basically,” she takes your hands in hers. “i want you to see this guy, and have fun, but to keep george in mind, yeah?”

a genuine smile finds its way onto your face. “i will, babe.”

“good. thank you,” her relief is palpable, even stronger in the way she squeezes your hand. “and i really am excited for next week, you know, dinner.”

“yeah, it'll be good.”

you're mentally repeating that to yourself with somewhat less optimism when friday night actually rolls around, though. matty's been on a mission to take the piss out of you the whole day, accompanying his frequent mentions of the dinner with a shit-eating grin and bursting into dramatic renditions of love is in the air at regular intervals, despite both you and his girlfriend yelling at him to “shut the fuck up, matthew”, and you're forced to retreat into your room just to escape him. of course, that means you're extra pernickety about your hair and outfit and makeup to the point of overdoing it, and it gets to a point where you have to sit on your hands until they go numb to stop yourself applying any more mascara.

at quarter to six, and after several texts from george telling you he's on his way and responding to your selfies with “beautiful”, you take a deep breath and shuffle out of your room towards the kitchen and your friends. matty smiles at you as you enter, which elicits a suspicious glare from you and a laugh from your friend. “relax, he's done taking the piss out of you,” she slides a glass of wine to you; you take a long, eager drink. “or at least he is if he actually wants to have sex any time in the next three weeks.”

matty rolls his eyes. “still think you're bluffing, baby, there's no way you can go without me that long.”

you grimace, and she smiles coolly at her boyfriend. “wanna risk it and find out?”

his cheeks go scarlet, voice going small. “no.”

“s'what i thought,” she ruffles his hair, turning to you and beaming. “you look hot, babe. really hot.”

“oh, thanks,” you tug awkwardly at the hem of your dress. “i hope he likes it.”

matty smiles, genuinely. “he will, darling.”

you smile, just as your phone buzzes - looking down, you see it's george, with an i'm outside. and really fucking nervous lol. buzz me up pls. “well, we're about to find out.”

“he's here?” matty bolts out of the room without waiting for a reply, and you hear the quick ring of the external door and the click-buzz of him responding. his girlfriend sighs, holding her arm out to you; wordlessly, you loop yours through it, and the two of you follow matty to the front door, a strange cocktail of excitement and apprehension mixing itself in the pit of your stomach.

and then the door goes. and then matty opens it. and then you see george, standing as bashfully as his height allows, and all the fear in your body dissipates completely.

you stay silent, biting back a grin. your friend sucks in an almost-inaudible shocked gasp, arm tensing in your own. matty's the one to greet his best friend, bewilderment tinting his otherwise cheerful voice. “oh, hi g. what are you doing here? just round to hang out?”

george grins. “sort of. i got a text last week inviting me over,” he nods at you. “it was 6 you said to be here for, yeah, angel?”

“on the dot. perfect timing, babe,” you wander down the hall towards him, tugging your seemingly-frozen-in-shock friend past her equally-shocked boyfriend, leaning up to kiss your own boyfriend's cheek. “bit disappointed you didn't wear a suit like i suggested, though. but you still look fit.”

“and you look beautiful,” he kisses your head, before turning to your friends with a smirk. “you guys look a bit weird, though. you alright?”

the two of them stare blankly at your smirking faces, matty's jaw dropping more and more as realisation presumably sinks in; it's his other half who speaks first, though, dropping your arm so she can slowly point between you and george. “this… is this… real?”

“you mean is george the person you're meeting as my date tonight? the person i just went exclusive with?” you smile so widely your cheeks ache, snuggling into him and practically fizzing with glee when his arm wraps around your waist. “who the fuck else would it be, really?”

a beat passes, then all hell breaks loose - matty actually bursts into tears, and his girlfriend slaps you on the arm. “you! you dickhead!”

“ow!” you rub your stinging arm. “what the fuck was that for?”

“for not fucking telling me!” she hits you again, softer this time, before tugging you and george into a hug, soundtracked by matty sniffling in the corner. “you fucking idiots. i love you,” she releases you both, tears filling her own eyes, and then pulls you into another hug, just the two of you. “m'sorry for hitting you, babe.”

“and for being a hypocrite?”

she laughs, watery. “that too,” keeping an arm around you, she wraps the other around her boyfriend. “why the tears, my darling?”

he sniffles, wiping his tears and looking between you and george; a weak gesture follows, as if emotion has completely overwhelmed him. “just… they're back.”

“and so are your nightmares?” george quips, resting his head atop yours.

matty shakes his head frantically, tears threatening to flood over his lashes again. “no, george, of course not. s'just,” he sniffles again, reaching for george's shoulder so the four of you are in a strange sort-of huddle. it's not unpleasant, though, far from it. “we all wanted this for ages, you know? the two of us together, the two of you together… and now it's real. and i'm just so happy.”

he collapses into sobs again, falling forward dramatically; given the geography of the huddle, it's up to you to catch him, so you hug him gently and pat him on the back. “you really are a sap, matty,” you huff out a laugh, half-formed because of the lump in your throat. “but we love you for it. and you're right, y'know - we really have all wanted this for a while,” you let go of your friend, steadying him before turning and wrapping your arms around george. “i love you. i'm so glad you agreed to come over.”

“you know i'd do anything for you,” he presses his lips to yours, and you melt; you're vaguely aware of your friends cheering in the background, but aside from that everything is just george, george, george. “i love you,” he pulls back. “and i love you two as well. slightly less than i do her, but…”

matty scoffs. “traitor. but whatever,” he sighs, face lifting into a smile as he turns towards the kitchen. “follow me, lovebirds. we've got some catching up to do.”

you wince. “please don't call it that.”

“what? why?”

“because that's what george and i have been calling our hookup sessions since i got back, that's why.”

your boyfriend and friend both giggle, while matty turns to look at you in affront. “wait a fucking minute. every time you went out and said you were catching up with people, you were just going to shag him?”

george smirks. “too fucking right she was.”

“christ alive,” matty shakes his head. “there had better be none of that tonight, you hear me? i'm not wearing earplugs to bed just to avoid listening to you guys fuck. heard enough of that in my life, thanks,” he reaches into the fridge for the champagne you stashed there earlier; when he returns, his face is bright in the way you've come to recognise as his i've got an idea that i think is great but is actually fucking awful mode. “actually…”

his girlfriend groans, the expression on her other half's face familiar to her too. “don't, matty.”

“no, let him talk,” george is perched on a stool at the breakfast bar, his best friend's face not a deterrent for him. the fucking pair of them, honestly. “tell us, mate.”

“well, how about a bet?” matty's eyes are locked onto george's; dread begins to build in your stomach out of sheer habit. “person who gets their girl off most times tonight gets free weed from the other. for a month.”

it's not the worst idea he's had, by any means - honestly, you'll take as many orgasms from george as you can get - but it still warrants a facepalm from both you and your friend. you sigh. “i don't think…”

“and how would we know the other isn't lying about the number?” george is incredibly still, hyper-focused; quite sexy, if you're being honest. “you thought about that?”

matty nods. “the girls write it on a bit of paper each and sign it, without conferring, and then we swap them and reveal.”

“for fuck's sake,” his girlfriend nudges him. “matty, don't be fucking stupid, there's no way…”

george just smirks, cutting her off. “alright, then. game on.”

[abiiors]

the ball's in your court - george x reader (ft. matty tihi) ˚˖𓍢ִ໋`🔆:✧˚.🍉⋆𖧧🐚

a/n: aka the challengers au threesome aka utter summer filth. this is mostly george, matty's just in it because he's pretty cw: very pathetic descriptions of tennis because i know fuckall about it. men kissing (happy pride month), semi awful flirting i guess but it's not too bad this time, threesome, cumplay, joint fingering??? blowjobs, masturbation, no actual p in v sex though wc: 4k

sweat. that’s the first thing you remember. sweat dripping on the hot tennis court on a blistering day in june, running down their faces in rivulets and flying off in droplets whenever they jump and run and swing and breathe. 

sweat, soaking their t-shirts, making it cling to their sculpted bodies. their sun-tanned arms move beautifully. they’re visually appealing, at least, even if their tennis skills are a bit pathetic. too much twisting of the wrist, too much swish, a shot that’s too wide, a shot that’s not wide enough. 

at least they’re good entertainment if not good players. the joy of watching country club brats fall flat on their asses is like no other. 

you pop the gum in your mouth, and watch them from the shade. matty and george. george and matty. 

they’re regulars, and they might not know you or your name, but you know them. in the same way you know the creak in a stair—not because you’ve tried to look for it and made an effort, but because it’s a force of habit. 

you’ve watched them so many times too, right here on this court, taking out their aggressions on their rackets and tennis balls. their t-shirts ride up each time they jump, exposing their tattoo-covered torsos, the bands of their underwear. the muscles in their thighs are pulled taut too—they’re nice to look at, you think. certainly easy on the eyes. 

“we have audience,” george says, his eyes trained on matty, his mouth curved upwards into a smirk. not once does he look at you. 

matty looks at you from the corner of his eyes. his gorgeous, dark curls are plastered on his forehead, the bridge of his straight nose glistens with sweat. you bite your lip in anticipation. 

you should have gone straight inside after making sure all the balls on the empty courts were collected. you should’ve been making sure you’re not needed somewhere else. and yet here you are… indulging. 

“what do you do? just watch?” george asks loudly. suddenly, his dark gaze is trained on you. the sun might be on them directly but it’s you who feels dizzy. 

you push off the wall, walk a little further and out of the shade. “i work here.”

for a bit he doesn’t say anything, he just looks at matty who seems to be barely stifling a smile. you can’t quite decipher what happens between them then, a nod and a coy smile, like it’s their little secret code. it’s about you, that much you’re sure of. 

and your point is proven a second later when george sets his racket down and walks up to you. 

up close he’s huge, tall enough to tower over you and leave you craning your neck. the hollow of his throat is pink with a hint of sunburn, glistening just like the rest of his forehead. his white uniform is stained with grass a little, but you doubt that bothers someone like him, someone rich enough to afford a year long membership at one of the top country clubs. 

you don’t back away from him though. if anything, you wonder if you should take a step closer, wonder if you should give matty a show since he’s so busy gawking at you and george. 

george, to his credit, doesn’t try to cross the boundary. although he certainly toes it. 

“no, i can see that,” george thumbs the top button of your uniform, the one right below your throat and just above the dip between your breast. he toys with it a second, until it threatens to pop open. “i mean what do you do on the court? just watch? or…” 

“do i play, you mean.” you place your thumb over his, pop the button open easily since it’s already so precarious. when george raises his eyebrow, you shrug. “what? it’s hot.”

george rolls his eyes, but there’s a ghost of a smile on his face too. “oh, do you?”

“a little, we aren’t allowed, technically,” you admit, “but the patrons…” 

“old, sleazy men who like pretty girls in tennis skirts?” 

you laugh. “yeah, them. the managers can’t say no to patrons. and i can’t say no to tips.” 

the club’s not being very subtle either, what with your uniform being a literal tennis skirt, not one that might be functional in the slightest, not for its actual purpose anyway… 

george takes a moment to look you up and down. you can’t lie, it’s certainly flattering to steal his attention like this. 

“george!” matty calls out for him, shitting-eating grin stretched wide on his face. “quit flirting and come back for the next set.”

“yeah, go back for the next set, george,” you tease, twirling a strand of hair around your finger. he doesn’t move an inch. 

“come play a few sets with us.”

“there’ll be three of us. a bit crowded, no?” 

“why?” he cocks an eyebrow, “afraid you can’t take both of us on?”

you look him up and down, lingering especially on the t-shirt sticking to his stomach and his broad chest. then you click your tongue. “the real question is… can you take me on?”

george is distraction personified. 

you decide it’s best to play against matty first—george decides it, more like and you agree. except now that he’s sat in a chair, legs sprawled wide and t-shirt discarded on the ground, you regret it.

the tattoos covering his arms glisten under the sun, his tanned sweaty chest makes your head turn every few seconds, and every time george catches you staring, he smirks. insufferable, annoying, fucking hot. 

focusing on matty’s no better for you. he’s worse than you at tennis, that much is a fact. you’ve already won the first set against him, but then he has that way of staring at you across the net, curls dropping in his eyes, and his crooked smile on display. it’s disarming, if you’re being completely honest. 

“a break?” george calls out when you set your racket down. you are panting a little, but it has little to do with the sport and more to do with the other kinds of heat coursing through you. 

“maybe…” you begin walking off court, toying with the idea of undoing another button. it would be crass… 

across the court, matty takes his t-shirt off too, throws it on the ground and takes a swig out of his bottle. you sit closer to george. 

once your breathing returns a bit to normal, you train your gaze on him, on the way he looks at you with barely concealed interest, subtly flexing his arms while he leans forward, elbows on his knees and his chin on his fists. his jaw looks sharp enough to cut like this, and yet you have the strongest urge to run your finger along it. maybe even your tongue. 

“my friend’s dying for your number.” his tone is so nonchalant that you almost miss it. 

“matty?” you steal a subtle glance at him, lying there on the court shirtless, sun warming his skin. “and he told you this…when?”

george pokes his tongue in his cheek, concealing a smile. “we don’t always have to talk, love…”

“i see…” you mirror his pose, leaning forward with just as much interest, relishing in the way his gaze dips to your cleavage and then back up to your face. a quick glance, a stolen glance. “and you’re not? dying for my number?”

“would you like me to?”

“would you rather i go home with your friend?”

“oh who said anything about going home?”

an image flashes in your head. you, george, matty—in the locker room that would be empty this late in the day, but of course there’s always a chance someone might walk in. someone might see… quickly, you cross your legs together. george notes the movement with much interest. 

“what would you do? just watch?” you steal another lingering glance at matty, who’s sitting up by now, forearms on his knees, watching this exchange with a kind of intensity on his face that you haven’t seen yet. 

“there are worse things than watching, won’t you agree?” george steals your attention away again. 

“and is that what you do? watch?”

george laughs, leaning back. then he hooks his foot under your chair, swiftly pulling you closer somehow on the grassy turf. 

“where?”

“the lockers are free.”

“i’m serious…” he looks at matty, nodding subtly, “we are serious.”

“who says i’m not?”

matty gets up then, dusting off his shorts and walking up to you, right behind you, until his hands are on your shoulders, lightly massaging. you can’t resist a low moan that slips out of you, rolling your head back and closing your eyes. you hope he’s just as good with his hands everywhere else…

“have you decided then,” matty asks, “picked one of us?”

“why not both?”

matty grins, all sharp teeth and wicked smugness. “if that’s what you wish.”

“aren’t you so bold on the court,” george’s breath is hot on your neck, his arms circling your waist, fingers trailing under your t-shirt and up, up, up until the graze the underside of your boob. you hiss, matty falters in his step. 

still, he doesn’t turn, surveying the locker room like it’s the most interesting thing in the world. “matty?”

george’s hand still. “oh is that who you want now?”

“want you both,” you moan, “like i was promised.”

“you were promised—” george whirls you around, manhandling you like you weigh nothing to him until you’re pressed flush against his chest, and he’s close enough for you to kiss him “—nothing.”

“come on, now…” matty’s there suddenly, pressing his chest against your back, grabbing your hips until you can feel his hard dick against your ass. “let’s not lie.”

“mmm i like matty,” you smirk at george, then turn your head sideways so matty can grab your jaw like there’s no tomorrow. at this angle it’s an awkward kiss—teeth against your lips and his tongue on the inside of your cheek, but you gasp just the same, throwing yourself into it. 

george takes the opportunity to kiss your exposed neck. it’s more than just a kiss, if anything you know it’s going to leave a mark impossible to hide. his teeth graze over your pulse point, tongue circling it until you moan loudly into matty’s mouth. 

george pushes against you. “shower. now.” 

his voice is a growl, low and urgent, and not one bone in your body is capable of disobeying him. you break the kiss and turn back to george, walking backwards toward the open showers, making sure not to break eye contact. you do however undo a button of your shirt with each step until it’s completely off you, leaving you in a cream lacy bra and the tiny tennis skirts. matty whistles appreciatively, about to take his shirt off too. 

“no,” you object, almost inside the cubicle. “i want george to take off your t-shirt. go on now.”

matty raises an eyebrow and turns to look back at george. his eyes are still trained on you however, glittering with a challenge. 

“oh you want a show, darling? she wants a show matty…”

matty hmms, “go on, do it then.”

you bite your lip, eyes trailing on their bodies with barely concealed lust. george grips matty’s jaw. it’s not forceful or harsh, but it is enough that his eyes widen. he doesn’t move away though, he just lets george pull him closer and tilt his chin up. he just lets george pull him into a kiss. 

it’s a sloppy kiss—teeth colliding against each other, mouths moving out of sync—it’s a mess, frankly. and yet you can’t look away as george holds onto matty’s neck, fingers tight around the nape and lips hot on his jaw and for a moment it’s like you’re not in the room at all. 

matty whimpers. it’s a pathetic little sound that sends a bolt of thrill straight to your cunt, and you rub your thighs together, clenching in anticipation.

they only break the kiss so george can pull the t-shirt off matty and discard it into a rag. you’ve had enough of being ignored. 

“oh you are greedy,” he taunts, gripping your wrist tight just when you try to undress him. something tells you he’s used to getting what he wants, inside the bedroom and outside. 

“you’ll have to earn it though,” matty joins in. 

earn. yes. 

breathlessly, you nod, blood pumping through you at a dizzying pace. you know what george wants as he stares at your mouth, far longer than before. and so you give in, eager to please and to taste him, and you kneel, right there on the cold bathroom floor. 

“is this good enough?”

“much better,” he smirks, tracing your lip with his thumb. it would almost be a loving gesture if it weren’t for the utter and complete lust written all over his face. 

george looks eager, exchanging glances with matty, who stands against the wall, watching. his shorts are almost pulled down, exposing the v of his pelvis and the boner that he palms. matty is content watching. you turn your attention back to george. 

george leans against the wall, discarding his t-shirt somewhere and letting you pull his shorts down until they’re around his ankles, until he’s completely exposed with his hard cock centimetres away from your face. your mouth waters at the sight of him, but you choose to put your hand around him first. around his base, holding him in one hand while the other rests on his thigh. the bathroom tiles dig into your knees, but george groans and suddenly it’s all worth it.

he moans when you move your hand—a trail of your finger up along the thick vein that runs along his underside. you stare at him through your lashes, making sure he’s looking at you when you lick up his slit, already leaking with precum. 

“fuck…” matty groans behind you. 

you rather like this attention, like the fact that he’s getting off to the sight of you on your knees, about to get face-fucked by his best friend. 

george tries hard to keep his eyes open, to watch you as you put just the tip of his cock in your mouth. your hand is wrapped around his base, pumping lightly. you know it feels good because a moment later, his eyes flutter shut. 

his soft sighs turn into groans as you take him deeper into your mouth, only halfway through, still pumping him with one hand and swirling your tongue around his tip. the weight of it feels delicious on your tongue, the taste and the smell of sweat and grass and remnants off his cologne. it’s an odd mix, one that wouldn’t appeal to you otherwise. but here, now, it breaks through any semblance of control you feel over yourself, even as you try to take it slow, tease him mercilessly before you give him anything else.

but george is getting desperate, his hips bucks as he thrusts into your mouth reflexively, making you gag slightly. instead of apologising, george smirks. matty whimpers too, the sound of skin on skin and you look up at george, at his eyes that flit between you sucking him off and matty pleasuring himself. 

“do it again,” you tell him, clenching your thighs together for at least some friction. 

george raises an eyebrow. “that how wanna be treated?” his voice has almost turned into a growl, something so deep and feral, it has you taking him deeper into your mouth, all the way until you gag around him once more. 

“she’s asking so nicely,” matty taunts, breathing harshly between words. 

whatever hold george has on himself snaps at the encouragement. his fingers tighten in your hair, holding you in place as he thrusts his hips again, faster than before, harder. and with each thrust you feel more of his control slipping. 

you feel the saliva pooling in your mouth each time his tip hits the back of your throat, feel the burn around your mouth from his thickness. feel the ache between your legs that grows stronger and stronger. 

“oh fucking! shit—” he moans, cutting himself off as you hum around him and hollow your cheeks. your scalp stings from his hold, mixing pain and pleasure, making you hiss each time. 

somewhere in the meantime, matty has walked up to you, completely naked now and so much closer, closer still when he kneels next to you. you whimper, pleading to be touched, even if it’s just a little. matty seems to understand what you want. 

“such a perfect girl,” he coos, words falling carelessly off his lips while he pumps himself slowly. matty waits a moment, then unhooks your bra, letting it fall off you before he grabs one of your tits in his hand, pinching the nipple between his fingers and rolling it until white hot pleasure zings through you. your jaw grows slack and george groans in frustration. 

“did i tell you to stop?” 

you come back to the present, back to matty touching you while he’s touching himself, back to george with the tip of his cock resting on your lips, back to the ache between your legs. 

you take him in deeper as frustration builds in your body, a need for release so strong that you might almost be on the brink of insanity. 

both george and matty pant, their breaths coming out harsher, and even when your jaw aches and saliva dribbles down your chin, george keeps going, fucking your face like your nothing but a blow-up doll to him. 

“good girl,” he grunts between them, “perfect, perfect girl.” and you know it’s not long now, you can feel him twitching inside your mouth, can feel the way his hips buck and his moans grow louder. you hollow your cheeks again, moan again to let the vibration do its job. 

matty moves to stand behind you, breathing loud and almost irregular.

“shit shit shit—” george pants, eyes rolled to the back of his head and jaw slack from pleasure, “gonna cum,” he moans, “gonna cum in your mouth okay?”

you want to say yes, nod, something to let him know how badly you want to taste him, for him to fill up your mouth. 

his entire body tenses in that moment, stomach tightening visibly before you feel the thick, warm cum shoot right into your throat and all the way down. you try to keep up with him, swallowing everything he gives you but some of it dribbles down your chin anyway, mixing in with the drool, making a mess. 

almost exactly a second later, ropes of cum shoot down your back, your spine. matty, reaching his own orgasm. it’s utterly pornographic, the scene—you on your knees with cum dribbling down your chin and your spine. two men staring at you with lust-riddled eyes, in complete and utter awe.

“pretty little mess,” matty sighs softly, as if reading your mind. george still thrusts in your mouth, gentler now as he rides out the last waves of his orgasm, his cock leaking with the last drops of cum. 

you keep your mouth open when he pulls out, letting him see his release on your tongue—thick and white and milky. then you turn to matty. “wanna share?”

matty nods, crashing his lips against yours. the moment his tongue slips inside your mouth you moan. he can taste george on your tongue, can taste every drop of his cum you failed to swallow. you bite his lip, enjoying his hiss a little too much. matty lets you though…

he’s too busy digging his fingers in your jaw and your neck, almost squeezing the sides of your throat. it’s not enough to cut off air completely, but it’s enough to make your head spin. 

when matty pulls back, milky release almost coating on his lips, you feel the breath leave you in a whoosh. 

george kneels next to you, hand on your hip. 

“take this off, yeah?” his fingers taps against the waistline of your skirt. “your turn now.”

“touch me,” you whimper, grabbing george’s hand and moving it up your thigh until his fingers are practically at your aching cunt. he stills and looks at you with a grin. 

“matty can help, can’t he?”

“wha—”

“you’ve been so good to us” he whispers right into your ear, nips your earlobe while he’s at it too and you moan just from the thought of it—both their fingers stretching you out, making your see stars, the taste of cum still linger on your lips and you nod, breathless, spreading your legs to bare everything to them. 

“please,” you nod eagerly, letting matty part your legs wider, letting him graze your thigh. george, not one to be outdone, joins in a second later. 

this time when you kiss matty, you make sure to slip your tongue inside, something he seems to enjoy a little too much, and you take advantage of his distraction. 

“like that,” you moan in his mouth and grab his hand, pushing a finger inside and searching for george’s hand right after. 

“want more?” he smirks. his eyes look pitch black, blown out wide and so dark, it sends a thrill down your spine. 

george presses a kiss on your neck again, mouth rough, all teeth and tongue until you’re close to a blackout and grinding on his hand. you feel the stretch when his fingers enter you, right alongside matty’s. their hands work in tandem, pulling out and pushing in, and the burn of the stretch is divine. your eyes close of their own accord, hips undulating, back arched. 

“please d-don’t stop,” you beg, moving your hips faster and faster, matching the thrust of their fingers, “i’ll die if you stop.”

your voice is raspy and rough, like you’ve been screaming unintelligible things for hours. and maybe you have been; your body certainly feels like it, on fire with a current running down your spine every time their fingers push in deeper. 

“won’t” george promises, at least you think it’s him. his voice has morphed into something you barely recognise. but his hand moves faster and faster, thumb circling your clit, and that’s all you seem to care about. 

“ohgodohgodohgod,” you chant like a blind devotee, drunk on them both, pathetic and desperate. matty’s moves, kissing the other side of your neck, teeth over your earlobe and tongue against your collarbone. if tomorrow you woke up covered in hickeys, you won’t regret it one bit.

heat burns hotter in your chest, the bottom of your spine as you clench around their fingers, stretched out and almost at the edge 

“that’s it baby, look at me,” george says. no…it’s almost an order, “look at me when you cum.”

instinctually, you open your eyes, look right at him—at his face that is so close to yours you can practically feel his breath fan your cheek, at his completely dilated pupils and swollen mouth. he kisses you hard and rough, probably tasting himself on your tongue and that tips you over the edge. 

with a cry you cum all over their hands, panting and breathing hard. it’s barely even audible over the rushing blood. 

“fuck—” matty chokes, utterly speechless. you feel no different. 

instead, when matty pulls his hand out, you take a hold of it, place it in your mouth. he makes a sound at the back of his throat—a choked moan like he can’t take it anymore. the moan frees itself when you swirl your tongue around his fingers, licking every inch of them, sucking them clean, not breaking eye contact even once.

you turn to george next, almost expecting him to stick his fingers in your mouth, shoved deep down until you gag around them too but he’s quicker, eager enough to swirl his tongue around them while you and matty watch. 

“at least you’re better at this than tennis,” you mock, earning an eye roll from george and a laugh from matty.

the showers stink of cum and sweat. 

your uniform is probably unusable now. fuck.

with shaky legs you get off the floor, utterly naked, with no idea how to go back outside and how to do your job. 

“shower?” matty asks, utterly nonchalant. 

george looks at you for an answer. oh well… “and a smoke after that,” you add. 

“that’s the plan then,” he agrees and turns the shower on. 

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[grocerystorelist]

night, midnight, lose my mind – george daniel

a stranger lights your cigarette outside the club, setting something else in you aflame. what follows could burn you down with it. inspired by this from @toomuchracket <3

minors dni. dom/sub, lots of d word, unprotected sex, overstimulation, choking, breeding a bit (not sure where that came from) and way too much possessiveness for a hookup

wc: 3632 thank u @think0fmehigh for reading this over and finding me the 2nd pic!! ok enjoy everyone <3

You lean against the brick outside the club, cold biting through the back of your jacket. A few people are milling about and chatting, smoke clouding the air. Beside you is a man with buzzed bleached hair, jawline cutting through the chill of the night as he takes a drag from his cigarette. He stares down the street, seemingly fixated on something in the haze, and you bite the urge to shuffle closer to him, to ask him what’s on his mind. Rolling your ankle, you let out a content sigh as you slide down the wall, digging for the lighter in your pocket. After a few flicks, you frown. It’s not working. 

The man tilts his head down. “Hey,” he says. You look up. He nods his head towards the lighter in his hand, holding out a hand to help you up. “Need a light?” You accept it gratefully, hoisting yourself up. You fumble out the pack from your pocket, hanging one from your lips as you slide closer to him. He raises his eyebrow as he holds up the flame. It’s a challenge. Another step closer, and you can feel the heat of his breath on your cheek as you dip your head to touch your cigarette to the light. He smells like whiskey and his own cigarettes, and you slip under his outstretched arm to lean against him as you inhale the first lungful of peace.

The muscles of his arm flex around you, the quiet display of strength renewing the blush on your cheeks. The two of you smoke in silence, but you swear you can feel the burn of his gaze on your face as you look resolutely ahead, unwilling to betray just how hot you think he is. A huff of air ghosts over you, and you snap, bringing your head up, staring at his lips.

“Let me kiss you,” you breathe. A beat. He groans and snakes an arm around you, pulling you into his body, pink lips crashing into yours. He takes a step to cage you into the wall, a broad hand rising to cushion your head from the brick, to press you further into his embrace. He kisses hungrily, and you wind your arms around his neck as his other hand travels up your leg to grab your ass, pushing and hitching you up. Dizzy, you pull away to catch your breath, a string of spit stretching between you for a moment as you giggle, looking up and down the street to see if there are still others around.

He sets you down, a grin spreading across his face as he takes in just how disheveled you are from your brief kiss. You smooth your hair and tug your skirt down, wiping across your face to get the rest of the lipgloss he hasn’t kissed away.

“I could really use another cig right now,” you laugh, pulling your pack back out to grab one, winking as you motion for his lighter. You’ve barely exhaled the smoke before he’s kissing you again, tongue desperately searching for a taste of the tobacco in your mouth as his hand cups your jaw. It’s brief, but combined with the nicotine it sends you into a headrush, vision clouding over as his tongue swipes over yours.

He steps back and pockets the lighter with a smirk, crushing the end of your cigarette under his sneaker. “See you back in there, princess. I’m George, by the way. Let me know if you need another light.” The door shuts behind him. The bubbles in your chest grow until you spin around, dizzy from the feel of his arms around you, the press of his forearm slung around your neck. You want his hands pushing into the flesh of your throat, long fingers wrapped all the way around your fucking neck.

You tilt your head back against the wall, laughing at the absurdity of it. Coming back in, you text your friends, before you swipe open your phone’s camera to look at the state of your makeup. Lips ruined, but otherwise relatively intact. You wonder what you’d look like if you went home with him.

Back in the club, you find your friends dancing in the same spot you left them, and you drag them to a table to get them a round as you tell them what happened outside. You lean forward on your elbows on the sticky tables as your best friend bats your arm, the group of them looking around to try and spot him. He’s tall, but low light and music make it hard to focus on one face for longer than a second.

“I can’t believe you didn’t get his number,” drunkenly exclaims one of them, craning her neck to look into the dark corners of the club. You haven’t spotted him either since you came back inside, but you’re resolved to make the most of the night. 

“Come on,” you say, swiping more lipgloss on. “Let’s go dance.”

You get down to the old pop blasting through the speakers of the club, spinning around and round until you’re dizzy. Every time you spot someone ridiculously tall out of the corner of your eye, heat shoots between your legs, only to be met with a twinge of disappointment when you realize it’s not him. Your friends try to distract you, pulling you closer to dance with them, laughing and singing along as you move together.

“He was probably a boring lay anyways,” one of them shouts, shaking her head. You nod with assent, eyes wandering now to see if you can salvage this night. But before you can land on another target, you feel the heat of a hand on your hip, pulling you away from your friends to spin you around.

“Was worried you forgot about me, princess,” George breathes into your ear, hips moving in time with yours. “Thought you found someone else.” You grasp his shoulders and grind into him, rolling your hips into the growing bulge of his jeans.

“I’m all yours for tonight if you want me.” You can feel his smile against your forehead, lips stretching to press a kiss there. “But what is it you want, darling?” George asks, biceps flexing as he grabs your ass, the black fabric of your skirt bunching in his fist. You know he can feel the lace of your underwear beneath them, pink lace growing damper by the second the longer his hand remains that close to your aching core.

“Want everything,” you gasp into his mouth, finally kissing him again. He breaks away before you can tug him further into you. “Gonna give me a name, first?” George teases, intertwining your fingers together. You reply with a wince, internally cringing at your haste, but he doesn’t seem to notice. He starts to tug you in the direction of the door, hands practically encircling yours.

“Wait,” you shout over the music, gesturing behind you. “Let me tell my friends I’m leaving.” Weaving through the crowd with George in tow you spot your best friend looking utterly blissed out, dancing without a care in the world. Tapping on her arm, you blush as she does an almost comical double take, eyeing George up next to you. “We’re going,” you say, letting out a laugh as she blinks.

‘Have fun, darling,” she responds. “See you soon!” The two of you turn to go, and you’re turning on your location as George opens his rideshare app, swiping through it. You burst into the cool night, the quiet of the street making you even more aware of the rush in your ears as you look at him, stark features highlighted by the single lamppost illuminating the two of you.

“Mine or yours, sweetheart?” George asks, thumbing open the address bar. “I’m fifteen minutes away.” He stands patiently, a far cry from the intensity you just felt in the club. You can tell he wants you to feel safe – letting you go back to your flat even though it would be a much longer drive.

“Yours,” you insist. “Shorter drive.” The car pulls up almost immediately, sleek and black as you pile into the back. George puts his hand on your leg as the two of you wait, the heat in the back of the car almost so stifling you want to roll the window down. Every bump in the road has you clenching around nothing, wishing he would slide his hand just a little further up your thigh to relieve you.

Soon enough you’re at the front door of his flat, hands clasped as he unlocks the door, ushering you in and closing it behind you. The two of you pause for a moment before he has you up against the door, kissing along your neck.

“I want to mark this pretty throat up,” he groans, pausing in one spot to suck a red mark on your flesh, the line of his body pressing you hard into the door. You want to be utterly overwhelmed by him tonight, for him to take over your body and clear your mind until there’s only one thing it’s filled with.

“You can do anything you want.” You mewl as he gets a leg between your thighs, grinding against him, his denim against your lace as you rub your clit on his leg. He lets you take control for a moment, letting out a low laugh when you give up, frustrated that you’re not getting what you need.

“Let me take you to bed, princess.” He carries you to his room, licking up the salt on the side of your throat. The heat of his tongue sends shudders down your body, clit pulsing with need. The denim of his jeans juts out, and you grind your hips onto the rigid line of him, wet underwear sticking to you.

“Please, George, need you,” you whimper, head falling into the crook of his neck. He sets you down atop your sheets, kneeling between your legs as he guides your head to the pillow. His eyes are practically black, pupils expanded to drink in the sight of your heaving chest and the purple now littered across your neck. “Please, Daddy.”

That’s what gets him – he lets out a low moan as he palms himself over his jeans, broad knuckles and glinting silver rings groping the dark patch you left on him. “Say it again, princess.”

“Want your cock, Daddy.” You whine, damp hands fisting the sheets below you for any semblance of sanity, of stability. You feel like you’re on another plane of existence, hurtling somewhere where you’re reduced to a single pinpointed sensation between your thighs.

“Such a greedy little slut, aren’t you? Need Daddy’s cock to keep you happy?” George groans as he unzips his jeans, precum dotting his white briefs as he slips a hand below the elastic, lightly stroking as his other one comes up to rub light figures on your clit. You moan, hips jolting finally at the stimulation, and you realize he’s drawing letters across your folds. “R - G - E,” you catch, and he begins his attack anew on the bundle of nerves. “G - E - O - R - G - E.” His mouth remains slightly open, shiny and swollen pink lips betraying the pants he lets out as his eyes devour the sight of your puffy folds.

“Going to be a good girl and take my fingers, yeah?” You sob as his manicured nails tease your hole, finally working one in, stroking across your soft insides. George kneels above you, frantically shoving his briefs down as he maintains the rhythm inside you. His thighs bracket yours, tensing in time with his strokes, with the squeezes to his cock.

Your eyes widen a fraction, somehow even more turned on at the fact of finally seeing just how big he is. George catches this and tugs at himself again, the angry red tip disappearing into his fist. “Gotta get you nice and stretched for Daddy’s cock, need you to come again for me, princess.” He slides another finger in, the burn of the stretch radiating throughout your body as your cunt clenches around George’s two fingers, trying to accommodate them.

He bends down to lick at your clit, continuing to massage the soft spot inside of you, relentless as your legs kick under his frame. You wail, finally falling apart, pulsing around his digits as he fingers you through the aftershocks of your orgasm. “So pretty falling apart for me, princess.”

“Need more,” you mewl, legs shifting farther apart to situate him between them. George slowly pulls his fingers out of you, bringing them up to lick at the slick stringing between them. The milky white of your juices swirls atop the black of his nails, bursts of your pleasure disappearing as his tongue laps them up. 

“Fucking love your pussy.” George kneels over you, hand grasping at your jaw as he stares intently into your eyes. “Be a good girl and open up for me, now.” Your jaw drops open, and you stick your tongue out, eyes fluttering shut in anticipation. He spits red-hot into your mouth, wet fingers digging in to shut the taste of you into your mouth. “Taste how sweet you are.” 

“Going to be a good slut for Daddy?” He murmurs, “Open your legs again.” You spread yourself under his gaze, cunt still glistening from your orgasm, clenching around nothing. “Wider.” He grunts, grabbing your thigh and pulling it over his shoulder, sucking at the soft flesh.

“Do you have a condom, baby?” He holds himself still above you, eyes intense as he searches yours for an answer. You shake your head resolutely no, tugging him down.

“On the pill, Daddy, want you to fill me up.” George moans as he fists his cock, sliding the head through your slick folds. His tip catches against your hole, and you involuntarily clench, trying to draw him into you finally. Your back sticks uncomfortably to the sheets, damp with your sweat as you shift, anticipating George.

“Going to put it in now, going to be good for Daddy?” You nod furiously, hands running up and down George’s arms as he finally guides himself inside. He slides in slowly, carefully, pressing kisses back and forth across your cheekbones. 

“So fucking tight, princess,” he groans, biceps trembling as he stills inside you. “So wet and tight, all for me.” You whimper, overwhelmed, mind clouded in a haze of George. As the moments pass, you feel your insides practically rearranging for him, welcoming him into your dripping cunt.

You drop a hand to dip into his lower back, pressing in to tell him to start, to claim you as his. He draws out slowly, leaving only the tip of his dick nestled in your folds. You whine at the sudden loss, grasping at the sheets, clenching around air. He thrusts back in.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, ” you moan. You’ve never felt more full in your life, the throbbing pressure inside your cunt leaving you squirming up the bed, only to be tugged back down onto George’s cock. Tears spill out of your eyes as he builds up a steady rhythm, damp chests dragging across each other, your tits sticking with the sweat from both your bodies.

He rails into you, alternating between harsh, quick thrusts and deep ruts that leave you gasping, every ridge of his cock dragging along the most tender parts of you. “It’s all for Daddy, isn’t it? Cute little hole all mine to use." You grab at the sheets again but your palms are too damp, your body jolting as George pounds into your body.

You feel dirty and overwhelmed, everything reduced to the singular point in the body where you connect, feeling the drag and pressure inside of you. You press down on your lower belly, crying out “I can feel you, Daddy, so big in me.” George’s hand dwarfs your own, holding it down as he pushes further, the slight bulge appearing and disappearing as he rails into you.

“Taking me so well baby,” he groans, and he spits down at where the two of you are conjoined. “Want to come inside you princess, stuff you full.” Dazed, you can only nod, hurtling towards the edge. He reaches down to touch your clit, calluses rubbing as the fire in your lower belly suddenly roars over you. Your vision goes white as you come, a supernova as your slick leaks out around his cock, the walls of your cunt fluttering. George has been slowly rutting into you as the last of the shockwaves roll over you, but he picks up the intensity as your eyes refocus, no longer glazed over. All you can do is lie there and take it as his thrusts shift you up the bed, his burning eyes never leaving yours as he plays with your tits.

“Fuck, gonna make you mine,” George rasps. You can feel when he starts to come, his whole body tightening up as he curls into your neck, shooting warm spurts of cum inside, your body still pulsing with the aftershocks of your own orgasm. Everything in your brain stops as his cock pulses in your overstimulated cunt, leaving you satiated and blissed out, eyes sliding shut as you wrap your arms around his shoulders to keep him close to you. Eventually, he slips his softened cock out, kissing you hard on the mouth as you wince, suddenly so empty.

You feel his release start to seep out, trickling through your folds and adding to the damp mess on the sheets below. Entranced, he pulls back to watch his translucent cum spill, dripping beads falling like nectar from the sweetest fruit. He reaches out to touch. 

“Can’t take anymore, Daddy,” you sob, throwing an arm over your eyes as you try and close your legs against the thick fingers swiping through your core. “Gotta make sure it takes, princess,” George says, pressing a kiss to your forehead before lifting himself off of you.

George moves down the bed to lie on his stomach between your thighs, hooking an arm under each to pull them apart, baring your glistening entrance again. He lets out a ragged breath before he starts lapping at your folds, getting everything that’s been lost already. You wail, already so far gone from your first two orgasms that another one seems impossible.

“Daddy knows what’s best for you,” he snaps, reaching his hand up to shove two fingers in your mouth. You keen around them, writhing against the sheets as his tongue fucks in and out of your hole, the tip of his tongue repeatedly hitting that spot inside of you. His nose rubs against your clit and you put a hand on his head, trying to hold him there as you rapidly approach another peak.

“Naughty little slut, I thought you couldn’t take another one,” George says, his tongue running flat over your folds. “Need you to shut up now, so I can focus.” His hand slips out of your mouth to wind around your neck, saliva-slick fingers smearing over the delicate flesh as you struggle to get another breath out, completely overwhelmed by him. He’s not putting any pressure on your throat, but the suggestion of his massive hands choking you has you on the edge in seconds, gasping at the thought. 

“Choke me, Daddy,” you plead, “make me cum.” George dives back into your cunt with a fervor, sucking and fucking his cum out of you, wet and messy and utterly filthy. His hand tightens around your throat and you can hear his tongue go in and out, laving over spots that have you seeing stars. You’re lightheaded, weak as you teeter on the precipice, anchored only by the feel of his hands holding you down on the mattress.

Your orgasm shoots through you, spasming around his tongue as you arch against the sheets, covering the lower half of his face in slick. You’re practically floating in the sheets, reaching some higher level of existence as you finally close your thighs to turn on your side. When you finally come to again, George has a clean pair of briefs on, sitting up against the headboard as he strokes your arm. A glass of water sits on the side table, and you can see your phone plugged in next to it. A groan rips out of your throat as you sit up, the ache in your core already apparent as you shift.

“Do you think you can stand, babe?” George asks, hand on your lower back. You nod, swinging your legs over the side of the bed to stand. He leads you to his bathroom, setting you down on the toilet as he busies himself finding a washcloth. The water has found its way into the bathroom with you, and you take appreciative gulps as he kneels before you, murmuring apologetically at the first wipe of the cloth through your folds.

“Sorry princess, gotta clean you up,” he says as you hiss, the coolness jarring against your skin. He pecks your knee when finished, and you wrap your arms around his neck to lift yourself as he slips a pair of his boxers over your hips. You feel like you could burst from the tenderness – surprised that a bar hookup is treating you so nicely after you’ve just been calling him Daddy in bed. “We should do this again,” you chuckle, fingers exploring the new bruises across your throat as you look into the mirror. He pulls you back against his warm chest, kissing the marks he left as you smile at the girl in front of you. Yeah, you could do this again.

[kennedy-brooke]

Dress

George Daniel x (Fem) Reader

Summary: You’ve been best friends with George Daniel for as long as you can remember, but your relationship has always suggested something more. The pining and waiting quickly becomes too much to handle, and you finally decide that something has to be done. A night out with your friends is the perfect excuse for you to wear the dress you bought, with the only intention of having him take it off.

heavily based on the song dress by taylor swift

Word Count: 9.9k

Part 2

a/n: hello lovely people. after many setbacks, my George Daniel fic is FINALLY here! shoutout to @imagine-that-100 and @alovesreading for making me finish it and helping me when i got stuck (i would have given up without the peer pressure support). There is a serious lack of George Daniel fiction, so here is my shot at fixing this problem. I got extremely carried away, and though it was originally meant to be a oneshot, THERE IS A PART 2!! so no worries, the good stuff is on the way and will be here @ 12 est on monday, august 21st ;)

You had been friends with George Daniel for ages, long before the band had gotten big. The pair of you had been through all of it together.

You had been there while his hair was flowing and damaged, and you had cried when he decided to buzz it off - while he simply held you and laughed at your reaction.

Just as he had been there for your mid-life crisis, when you decided bleaching your hair was the only way to get through it, and he looked right at you and lied to your face saying that it looked good.

You’ve always been the closest of friends - and fame has done little to change that fact - but when it comes to your dynamic duo, there has always been an undercurrent of something more.

While you’re just as close with the other boys, your relationship with George has always been different. Friends don't banter quite like the two of you. They don’t openly flirt like you do. They don’t share longing looks with one another, or take any opportunity to make physical contact with each other the way you two do. It wasn’t normal. You knew it, he knew it, hell, everyone knew it - they watched as the pair of you danced around the connection, the overwhelming and obvious chemistry, waiting to see who would finally make the first move.

You would balance precariously along the tightrope marking the barrier between friends and something else, something more, slowly tilting towards free falling into the unknown, before hastily shifting weight and falling back to the safety net of friendship. It was painful to watch - the boys individually giving the pair of you shit for the obvious harbored feelings - but it was never as painful as it was to experience.

Being as close as you were, you watched as George brought home girl after girl, trying your best to be the supportive friend you were while simultaneously trying to keep your own emotions in check. Nodding as he went on to Matty about his latest shag, telling Ross you were fine as he looked at you with concern written across his face.

It wasn’t as if the two of you were together. Why wouldn’t you be fine?

George sat back and watched as guys came up to buy you drinks at the bar that you’d happened to stop at. He scoffed and looked away as you threw your head back laughing at something the new guy said - it couldn’t be that funny - and Matty shot him a knowing look that screamed go do something about it.

He never did, though. He watched and watched, and when he had finally had enough, he found a distraction in someone else.

The game went on for years. An uncomfortable, tension-filled game that was by no means enjoyable for any party involved; but recently, there was something that had shifted.

Just before the boys left for “At Their Very Best,” you and George continued to be practically inseparable, but it wasn’t in the same way you had been before. Where your secret moments in a crowded room had been subtle and the touches fleeting (or so you both thought), they were now blatantly obvious.

You sat pressed against him, his arm around your shoulders holding you close. He stood behind you, arms around your waist, gazing at you while you rambled to Matty about some book you had just read. You leaned against the doorway to the studio, looking on as George messed with the tracks, unknowing to your watching eyes. You played with the rings on his fingers while he chatted with the boys, not letting go even after you finished fiddling with the metal. He placed his hand on your thigh, too high to be a friendly gesture, as he drove you to Matty’s place to meet up with the rest of the band.

The tension had continued to build, leading up to the party being thrown in celebration of the release of “Being Funny In a Foreign Language”. The night hadn’t gone to plan for either of you - rather it was thrown off course by a simple interruption and only proceeded to go downhill from there.

Everyone had been having a lovely time, really. Shots had been taken, more drinks had been poured, and you had found yourself on the settee watching as Matty approached.

“Where’s your loverboy?” Smirking, Matty sat himself next to you and threw his arm over your shoulder.

“Hello to you too, Ratty.” Rolling your eyes, you offered nothing in response to his antics, watching as he threw his hand over his chest in mock offense. “He’s in the kitchen, I think, and he’s not my ‘loverboy’, Matty. We’ve been over this.”

He gave you a knowing look. “Ah, but you knew exactly who I was talking about, didn’t you?”

You brought your glass of wine to your mouth, swallowing down the last of it and leveled him with a glare. “I need another drink.”

“Y/n, come on now! Don’t be like that - I was only messing.” He shook your shoulder a bit before drawing you into his side for a hug. “I was just wondering where our Georgie had disappeared to and figured you would have the answer, seeing as I haven’t seen the two of you apart for weeks.”

Sighing, you pouted and let yourself relax into Matty’s side hug. You knew he was right, if anyone was to know where George had gone off to, it would be you - and to be fair, you did know where he was - but you also knew that Matty’s comment wasn’t as innocent as he made it seem.

He was prying. They all had been, and it didn’t help that you had made the drunken mistake to confide in Matty one night a few months back.

He knew how you felt. How in denial you were about having feelings for your best friend. How you were too scared to do anything about it because you didn’t want to ruin your friendship. He knew you thought it was ridiculous and cliched, and he knew that you hated it - but he also knew that those feelings weren’t going away and that the recent clinginess between the both of you was only making those feelings more intense - whether you wanted to admit it or not.

“How’s all of that going, by the way?” Matty prodded, feeling a need to break the silence since you had yet to respond.

You rolled your eyes again, “I’m not sure what you mean, Matty, seeing as there isn’t anything going anywhere.”

“You know exactly what I mean, y/n/n. Neither of you are exactly subtle.” At that you cut your eyes at him, to which Matty just chuckled. “I’m not wrong, and you know it.”

“Well, nothing has happened and it’s probably not going to, so maybe you are.” You huffed and sank lower into your seat, staring at your wine glass as if it would refill itself if you looked at it long enough.

“I highly doubt that. I know George and he wouldn’t just be acting like that for the fun of it. And I know how you feel - you’ve told me as much yourself. What I still don’t understand is why neither of you have done anything about it, it’s simple enough.”

You look over at Matty exasperated, “Matty, I love you, but he’s my best friend and it’s really not that simple. You don’t know the half of it and I wish you’d all just leave it be.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that, I just meant-”

“I know, Matty, and I appreciate it - but I’d like to enjoy myself tonight and not talk about my pathetic love life.” You smile tightly at him before looking at your empty glass once more and pushing yourself up from your seat. “I’m getting another drink.”

Matty doesn’t utter a word as you get up and make your way to the kitchen - smart man, you think.

Sighing, you make your way around the other party-goers, finding yourself deep in thought. You knew that he had good intentions. Matty can be a dick, but he has a kind heart and has always been a good friend to you.

The issue was that everyone keeps talking like they know exactly what the problem is and how you’re feeling about it, acting as if your situation has an easy fix - when in reality they know absolutely nothing about whatever is going on between the two of you.

George Daniel has been your best mate for ages, you weren’t about to mess all of it up because of some measly feelings. Even if that meant pining in silence, reminding yourself that it’s for the best, trying not to think about what it would be like to be with him in that way. To hug him, but not as a best friend. To spend time with him, but not as a best friend. To kiss-

No. You weren’t going there tonight. You were going to enjoy your time with the boys before they went on tour. There would be no daydreaming about George Daniel and his eyes… and lips… and hands… and-

God. You needed another drink.

Reaching the doorway to the kitchen, you looked in and saw George having a conversation with Ross, his back turned towards where you were standing. He seemed fully immersed in whatever he was talking about and was completely unaware of your presence in the kitchen.

It would be so easy to scare him right now, and just as the thought came to mind, you decided to do just that.

Quietly, you sat your glass down behind the coffee pot and began to slowly walk towards him. Glancing up, you made eye contact with Ross, who quirked his eyebrow upwards. You quickly placed your finger over your lips in response, signaling for him to stay quiet as you crept up slowly behind George.

Realizing what you were trying to do, Ross swiftly looked away from you and began talking to George again, trying to distract him so you could carry out your plan. Once you made it directly behind him, assuring you were completely out of sight, you waited for the perfect moment. And as soon as he opened his mouth to speak, you struck.

You quickly brought up your hands, spreading them open just to snap them closed on George’s waist, aggressively whacking him on either side of his body and letting out a loud yell, “AH!”

“Fucking HELL-” George jumped up in place, swiftly spinning around and fighting off your hands’ attack on his sides by flailing his free arm, the other being occupied by his drink. His face showed nothing short of utter bewilderment, stunned by the sudden attack. His eyebrows pulled down and his mouth gaped open and closed like a fish, unable to comprehend what had just happened.

His reaction, and the expression of shock on his face, sent you into a round of obnoxious laughter - to which Ross joined in on at the expense of his best mate.

“You little shit,” unimpressed, George glared at your laughing figure, bent over at the waist and trying to recompose yourself. “It’s honestly not that funny.”

“Oh, but G, it really was. Your face - absolutely priceless. I wouldn’t have thought your sides would have been so sensitive - you practically levitated off the ground.” Slowly catching your breath, you smiled up at him.

Ross, wanting to stir the pot, gave his own input. “He definitely did - should have seen his face when you got him. Swear I’ve never seen him jump so high.”

George, looking completely unamused, was less than impressed with you and Ross teaming up against him. “I did not. You startled me is all-” He turned to look you dead in the eyes before continuing “-and you’re one to talk. My sides are sensitive, hm? Mine?” George began to smirk and sat his drink next to Ross as he slowly started making his way over to you.

The mischievous glint in his eye was alarming, and you immediately started backing away. You knew what he was up to, and you weren’t about to simply stand there.

With every step he took forward, you took one back, desperately trying to get out of the hole you had just dug for yourself. He kept moving forward, and you kept moving backward - until your back hit the counter and there was nowhere for you to run. However, that didn’t deter George from moving closer still. He continued to walk toward where you were standing, pushing his way into your personal space and pressing you further against the counter.

He looked down at you and smirked, “What was it you said about sensitive sides?” and that's when he struck.

He quickly brought his hands up to your sides, giving you no time to react before he’s started aggressively tickling you. You squealed and burst out laughing, releasing a loud cackling sound that you had no control over.

“George- G wait- GEORGE STOP-'' Your laughter enveloped the kitchen, and caused George’s smirk to slowly turn into a genuine smile. “no NO STOP IT I'M SORRY”

Laughing along with you, George continued his attack. “What was that, darling? I don’t think I heard you- you’re sorry?”

“Stop - STOP YES IM SORRY - IM SORRY PLEASE. George- GEORGE PLEASE NO MORE.”

“See? Was that so hard?” George chuckled at you as you tried to catch your breath and he slowly stopped his attack on your sides.

You looked up at the tree of a man in front of you, trying to hide your smile as you gave him your best attempt at a glare. As soon as you made eye contact, though, your smile broke loose and you couldn’t help but release a half-giggle, half-chuckle at the man you had grown to adore.

The eye contact went unbroken, developing from a look of amusement to a sticky sort of fond look that continued to be passed between the two of you.

“That was nasty of you, G.” You narrowed your eyes at him, pushing on his chest and looking away for a brief moment before your eyes unconsciously drifted back to your best friend.

“I wouldn’t say that I’m the nasty one here, love. Don’t try to sneak up on me next time and you can avoid this mess.” Completely unphased by your light-hearted shove, George simply moved closer, placing his hands on the counter top by each side of your waist, effectively caging you in and bringing your bodies closer than they had been before.

“It was too good of an opportunity, G. I had to.”

The new distance, or rather the lack of such, sent a nervous, giddy feeling straight to your stomach. You and George had been dancing around the tension for weeks, waiting for the other to break - to finally make the first move - but nothing had happened yet and you were getting antsy.

There’s only so much flirting without any effect that you can take before you explode, and tour was starting up in the next week. He would be out of reach then - untouchable until the band was back home for a break. Their return would be months after they leave for tour, and the distance would provide you both with no consistent communication, what with time zones and work.

The pressure was laying heavily on the both of you and the close proximity was making your head fuzzy and your stomach turn - or maybe it was the wine you had been nursing all night - you weren’t sure anymore.

The renewed eye contact had become too much to handle, so you diverted your eyes downward and came face to face with George’s neck and chest. You couldn’t help but slowly drag your eyes across his frame, taking in his chiseled jawline and letting them roam down the expanse of his neck until they caught on an unfamiliar piece of jewelry hanging around it.

Reaching up, you softly slid your finger underneath the necklace and pinched it between your fingers to get a closer look at the piece. It was a simple chain - nothing outrageously large or bulky, but rather a thin, lightweight gold that laid nicely around his neck and had been neatly tucked beneath his shirt.

“Is this new?”

George hadn’t been paying a bit of attention. He was too focused on the smell of your perfume and the soft look that had taken over your features now that you had finally calmed down. You were beautiful. You always had been, but God, if you didn’t look unreal standing so close to him. He was intently committing your features to memory, as if he hadn’t already done so many times before, when you pulled him out of his daze.

“What?” He glanced down at your hands, now holding the thin chain and examining it. “Oh - that? yeah I just got it last week. Hadn’t found a chance to wear it yet, decided tonight was a good time. Do you like it?”

“Mhm, it’s nice.” You weren’t lying, it looked good on him - more than good - but you couldn’t help but tease him a bit. With the chain still between your fingers, you hooked your index finger beneath it and gave a quick tug, bringing his face closer to yours. “- think I could pull it off better, though.”

“Is that so?” George glanced at your face and found you looking at the gold necklace, a small smile gracing your face.

“Oh, definitely. I could pull it off way better than you do.” Your smile turning into a smirk, you tugged on the necklace a bit more, looking up at George to find his eyes trained on your own.

“Mmm, I’m sure you could.” His eyes flicked down to your lips, the smirk there morphing back into a smile, and he couldn’t help but wonder what they would feel like pressed against his own.

You had found yourself in a similar situation. You caught him looking at your lips, causing a flush to crawl up your neck. Later, if anyone asked, you would swear it was because of the wine, NOT because your best friend was looking at your lips like he was dying to explore them with his own.

On their own accord, your eyes had drifted downwards and were staring at his own lips. They had a small upturn to them, a content smile gracing his face as he continued to look at your own.

“Y/n -” It was barely there, a whisper of sorts that you wouldn’t have caught if you hadn’t been intently staring at his lips to see them part as he spoke your name.

With that one breath, everything stopped. You were no longer in the kitchen at a friend’s house, and it felt as if there was no one else around you for miles. It was just you and George sharing this one small moment.

Without noticing, you had both started leaning in. Your stomach started tumbling - was this going to be it? Finally, it was finally going to happen - fuck the consequences - and there was nothing that could stop it, nothing at all -

“Ahem-” Looking positively sheepish, Ross broke the bubble the two of you had created.

In all honesty, you had forgotten that Ross was even there and once broken out of your daze, you realized how close your faces had become. The two of you quickly jumped apart, eyes diverting to look at anything but each other.

“So sorry for interrupting, um, whatever that was -” and to be fair he did look distraught for having been the one to burst your bubble, “- but Matty has been calling George’s name for a bit now and i figured you wouldn’t want him to be the one to break you two apart.”

You and George both grimace. He’s right, you definitely did not want Matty witnessing whatever just happened.

“Plus, it was getting a bit uncomfortable just standing there in silence while that played out.”

You stood there blinking, still trying to come back from your previous daze - which caused George to be the first to respond.

He looks panicked and more than a little distressed. “No- Yeah- I mean no, it’s alright. I- um I should go see what he needs.” And without sparing you another glance, George grabs his drink and walks away.

You watch him walk out of the room, your mouth hung open in disbelief. You had almost kissed. You and George had almost kissed and he just walked away. What the fuck just happened?

“Y/n, listen- I’m sorry for-”

“What? Oh, no it’s um- it’s alright, no worries- Have you, um, have you seen my glass? I don’t, uh, I don’t know where I set it.” You were beyond flustered, and a bit upset. George walked off and it all hit you at once.

You were in love with George Daniel, you had almost kissed him, and now everything was all sorts of messed up. You were absolutely screwed.

Ross, not knowing how to make any of this better and wanting to kick himself for interrupting the moment, just stood there and watched as you flitted about the kitchen - mumbling about where you may have set your glass.

After spending a few minutes half-heartedly looking for your glass, you stop and sigh. “You know, what? Fuck it.” And with that, you walk over to grab the full wine bottle sitting on the countertop next to Ross and hurry your way out of the kitchen to find somewhere else to drown your sorrows. So much for enjoying the night.

Helpless, Ross watches you with wide eyes, before looking around to see if anyone else had just seen that. He makes a mental note to check on you later to make sure you were okay, before walking out of the kitchen in the opposite direction - deciding to give you some time to process what just happened.

In the living room, the party was still in full swing and after being roped into a conversation with Adam and Carly, Ross had forgotten about checking in on you.

Almost an hour had passed, and Matty had yet to see you come back from the kitchen. He looked around the room once more, scanning the many faces to see if he recognized yours amongst them. When his eyes found George across the room and didn’t see you anywhere near him, he excused himself from the conversation and set off to find where you had gone to.

After searching the outside patio, the kitchen, one hallway closet, and two bedrooms, you were still nowhere to be found. Matty had absolutely no idea as to where you could be and was growing more worried by the second. He knew you could take care of yourself, and he knew you could hold your liquor - but if he wasn’t mistaken, you had been drinking red wine tonight and you tended to get yourself into unfortunate situations when red wine was added to the equation.

He began walking back down the hall, passing the bathroom before an idea came to mind. Backtracking, he went back to the closed door and knocked twice, calling out to see if anyone was inside. “Hello? Anyone in here?”

When there was no response, Matty tried the door knob and found it unlocked. He opened the door and stuck his face inside, glancing around the bathroom and finding it to be empty. He sighed and was about to leave the bathroom once more when he heard a scuffle come from the shower and -

“Shit.”

Matty stopped in his tracks at the all too familiar voice and pushed the door completely open. He slowly walked over to the shower, before grabbing the curtain and quickly pulling it back only to find your figure awkwardly curled in the bathtub, clutching a mostly-empty wine bottle.

“Um, hi?” You looked up at Matty with a guilty look on your face, giving your best attempt at a smile - one that was none too convincing based on Matty’s responding grimace.

“The fuck are you doing?” Matty looked at you expectantly, glancing from the wine bottle and back to your face.

“Well- you see… I don’t, uh, I don’t know. It was just so calm and quiet, Matty. And the wine was making me just a little dizzy and so was George and - Oh god, George - Matty I really want George but I think I just fucked it all up - oh god. ” You started rambling, your words beginning to slur together into a whine - and if Matty didn’t already think you were drunk when he first saw the bottle in your hands, he was sure of it now.

“Christ, Y/n - how much of that have you had to drink?”

“Only -” You brought up your free hand and pinched your index finger and thumb together, leaving a tiny space between them and squinting to look through it, “- thiiiis much.”

Matty sighed for what felt like the millionth time that night. Since when did he become the responsible one between the two of you.

He walked back to the door, shutting it behind him, before turning back around and sitting down next to the tub. “What happened, love?”

“Oh, nothing really - I just scared George in the kitchen and he tickled me and then we almost kissed but Ross interrupted and then G all but ran out of the room and i couldn’t find my glass and I really needed a drink and so i just grabbed the whole bottle and wanted to go somewhere quiet and so i came in here just in case I had to pee and i ended up in the shower and i can’t stop thinking about George an-”

“Fucks sake, Y/n. Take a breath for me.” You had started talking a mile a minute, gesturing your hands while still holding the bottle of wine and somehow managing to spill some of it down the side of the bathtub.

“Ah, shit. I’ve gone and spilt it again.”

Matty was staring at you with wide eyes, trying and failing to hide his shock. He hadn’t a clue what was going on and was sure this would be a shit-ton to unpackage later - but he’d already had a few drinks and there was no way he was processing any of this tonight.

And you - you were completely plastered and doing a poor job at hiding it. Not that Matty could blame you after everything that had just tumbled from your lips. He watched as you tried to clean up the mess you had made with the corner of your shirt before huffing and letting your head fall back harshly against the shower wall.

The contact made a loud thump, making both Matty and yourself wince. “Y/n, love, are you okay?”

You gave a short, empty chuckle in response and leveled him with a deadpan look. “Oh, I’m just lovely, Matthew. Thank you so much for asking.” You sigh again, lifting your head just to let it fall once more as you groan.

Reaching out for you, Matty stopped you as you went to lift your head. “Okay- maybe don’t be doing that again. Do you need anything? Want me to get you something? Some water maybe?”

“Can you get George for me pretty please?” You closed your eyes, opening them back up when Matty had yet to respond.

He was searching your face, trying to see if getting George was the best idea.

“Matty, please? I’m not gunna do anything stupid, ‘promise.” You gave him a dopey-looking drunk smile, and held up your pinky trying to convince him.

“But-”

“Just because I’m in love with him doesn’t mean I can’t act normal after a few drinks. Please? He’s my ride home.”

Matty’s eyes widen, not expecting that to come out of your mouth. You had never explicitly said how you felt about George before, only that your feelings for him went past platonic and that you were too scared to act on them. It didn’t seem like you were aware of what you had just said, though, so Matty decided to let it slide and store it away for a later time (along with everything else that had happened that night).

He sighed, yet again. “Yeah, okay. I’ll - I’ll go get him, but I need you to stay here, alright?”

Nodding sluggishly, you watched as Matty stood himself up and went to leave the bathroom - assuming he was going to find George.

Once Matty had left and shut the door behind him, you - carefully this time - laid your head back to rest against the wall and closed your eyes. The room had started to tilt and your stomach had started to turn; but you’d be damned if you threw up now.

You had overdone it with the wine, you knew that already, but who could really blame you? After almost kissing the man you were oh-so-unfortunately in love with (who also happened to be your oldest and closest friend) and having him practically sprint out of the room to get away from you, you figured you were entitled to get just a little drunk.

To be fair, you were much more than a little drunk - having downed the majority of the bottle of wine that was full once upon a time - but you needed to not think for a moment.

You didn’t want to think about George’s hands at your sides, or his arms caging you against the counter. You didn’t want to think about how he looked at you so fondly before staring directly, and not-so-subtly, at your lips. You didn’t want to think about his broad shoulders and chest, or that stupidly attractive gold chain necklace that was hanging so beautifully around his neck. You didn’t want to - yet here you were thinking about it anyway.

At this point, your head had started to pound. God, how much had you drank for your head to already be hurting before the hangover had even started? You went to open your eyes, but the lights were blinding and you immediately shut them again.

With the room silent and your eyes closed, you took a moment to look over your night.

You weren’t sure why you had almost kissed him, but you could have sworn he wanted it to happen too. It couldn’t have been all in your head - you were delusional at times, but that was too cruel even for your own mind. That didn’t explain why he had bolted, though. Maybe he was embarrassed to have wanted to kiss you, or maybe he was drunk and thought you were someone else.

The night had become a disaster, and you prayed everyone else was at least having a good time. You had come tonight so you could enjoy some time with your friends before they left on tour, not so you could wallow in self pity over the fact that you wanted your best friend in a completely non-platonic way. How you had managed to get to the point where you were spilling wine in a bathtub was beyond you, however one thing had become extremely clear tonight: you weren’t sure how much longer you would be able to hide these ridiculous feelings before you quite literally exploded into 1,975 tiny little pieces.

You huffed and brought your arm up to rest it over your eyes. This train of thought wasn’t helping your mood one bit. If anything, it just made you want to cry, but you were far too wasted to push yourself off the path of self-destruction.

When you heard the bathroom door open, you didn’t move an inch and kept your eyes closed, assuming it was just Matty again.

“Matty, I really just want George,” you mumbled into your arm that was still draped over your face, while the other hand brought the wine bottle closer to your chest.

“You have me, Darling. I’m right here.”

Your eyes shot open at the familiar voice that most definitely did not belong to Matty Healy, only to find your best friend leaning against the door frame.

“Georgieee-” And by that nickname alone, George knew you were extremely drunk.

Matty had warned him of your state, briefly telling him that you were far from sober - but he hadn’t said it was this bad. You only ever use that name when you’re wasted, it was G or George otherwise

“Hello, Darling.” Your insides turned to mush at the name, physically sinking further into the bathtub and whining.

“Oh God, don’t do that.” You drug your hand down your face, as if you could wipe away the alcohol’s effect. You had no control of what was coming out of your mouth right now, and you probably wouldn’t remember most of this by morning. It was a recipe for disaster and you swore his presence was only making you feel more drunk.

“What- do what?” George looked at you with genuine confusion. Had he done something?

“Do that thing. Y’know - with your eyes and your voice and the ‘Darling’.” you dropped your voice as low as you could at the word ‘darling’, mocking his voice before proceeding to groan loudly. “ugh- that thing that makes me really want you and your attention.”

George chuckled at your words, looking down at you with that same sticky sort of fond look that made you want to melt under his gaze. “You have me, love. I’m paying attention - promise.”

You groaned again, “No - Stooppp.” You immediately looked away from his face and threw your hand over your eyes.

Laughing at your childish actions, George reached over to pry your hand away from your face, smiling as you gave in almost immediately. “Stop what? I’m giving you what you wanted right? You wanted me and my attention - so here I am.”

Apparently you had become one to make many noises tonight, because you simply whined in response, weakly trying to pull your hand from George’s grasp. “No- George you don’t get it. I don’t want it like that. I don’t want you like a best friend.”

At that, he let go of your hand and stared. You obviously hadn’t registered your words, too drunk to realize what you had accidentally let slip, and George didn’t know how to react. He had a gut feeling that you had gotten this plastered because of him, and with it came an unwelcome feeling of guilt.

Of course he wanted to kiss you back in the kitchen, he would be a fool to have wanted otherwise. But he was drunk and you were his best friend. Just because he wanted to kiss you then and there didn’t mean he had the right to ruin your friendship over some complicated feelings.

He doubted you knew what you were saying, anyways. You were drunk. It didn’t mean anything.

“Alright, Y/n. Let’s get you home.”

Sighing and pouting slightly, you reached both arms outwards and made grabbing motions with your hands, signaling for George to help you up. George huffed out a laugh at your actions before grabbing your hands and pulling upwards to get you in a standing position.

Once standing upright, you started feeling dizzy and began to wobble on your feet. Yeah, you had definitely had too much to drink.

Reaching back out to stabilize you, George lightly held both of your hips. “Woah, there Y/n/n. You alright? Can you stand by yourself?”

As soon as the question left his mouth, you felt the room spin and you immediately started to shake your head. “Um nope - no, definitely not.”

George looked at you and sighed. “Okay then, hold on.” And with that, he bent down, placing one arm behind your back and the other behind your knees, before lifting you up bridal style and bringing you into his chest.

You gasped, bringing your arms up and around George’s neck. “What are you doing, I’m fine-”

“Y/n. No you're not, you can barely stand, much less walk. So I'm carrying you outside to get a taxi, and you are going to let me.”

You balked at him for a moment before responding, “yes sir!” and giving him a quick salute. You placed your arm back around his neck as he began walking out of the bathroom and through the house.

You barely registered his good-bye’s as he quickly made his way through the now small crowd of people. How long had you been in that bathroom?

As if he had read your thoughts, “You were in there for a while, most of them already headed home. Mainly just the boys left now.”

You nodded your head as George stepped outside, walking to the road where a taxi was already waiting on the two of you. He set you down, helping you maneuver your way into the car before sliding in next to you.

As soon as he shut the door behind him, you sluggishly slid over to sit in the middle seat and rested your head on George’s shoulder. You twisted, dragging your eyes to look at him, when they caught on his gold necklace again.

You slowly brought your hand up and started messing with the chain. “‘Really like your necklace, G,” you mumbled sleepily into his shoulder. “Think I want one for me, too.”

You glanced up at your best friend - giving him a small, tired smile - and found him already looking down at you.

The eye contact was soft, lacking the heat and tension that was present earlier in the night. George watched as you tried to hold it, but ultimately failed as you grew too tired to keep your eyes open any longer.

That’s how you fell asleep, with your head lying on your best friend’s shoulder and your hand on his chest, lightly gripping his gold necklace.

You vaguely remember being woken up so that George could help you into your flat and being led to your room where you quickly stripped out of your clothes and put on a t-shirt from the top of your drawer before climbing in the bed.

By the time your head hit the pillow, you had already started dozing off again; but you could have sworn you felt your hair being tucked behind your ear and a kiss being pressed to your face.

A soft, “Goodnight, Darling” was the last thing you heard before succumbing to a deep, alcohol-induced sleep.

• • •

When you woke the next afternoon, it was with a horrendous headache and no recollection of what had happened after you ran from the kitchen with a full bottle of wine.

Groaning, you had rolled over to look at the clock when you felt an unfamiliar weight around your neck. You brought your hand to the hollow of your neck, grabbing at the weight and lifting it far enough away from your chest to catch a glimpse at the item. What you saw made your breath hitch as you brought your other hand up to cover your mouth.

It was George’s gold chain necklace.

You checked your phone, finding one notification from George himself:

Don’t be mad - you kept saying how much you liked it, so I just left it with you.

I can always get another one

You softly smiled, thumbing at the gold now lying around your neck. You were absolutely, positively smitten with your best friend, and you hadn’t a clue what you were going to do about it.

That was two months ago, and while you wish you could say that you gathered the courage to make a move before the boys left for tour, you hadn’t been given the chance. Things had gotten busy for you at work and the lads had been preoccupied with tour preparations, leaving you all with no time to get together or speak before they were heading off to the states.

You had exchanged a few messages with them, of course, and you had tried to call when time and work allowed, but it wasn’t quite the same. You missed your friends. You missed George.

The two of you had messaged each other almost daily, however you never seemed to be able to catch each other at the right time - narrowly missing his messages and calls by mere minutes and then being unable to reach him again afterwards.

His gold necklace had found a permanent place around your neck, you rarely took it off - your friends joking that it may as well be a tattoo permanently etched into your skin - but it had become a comforting presence in the absence of George.

When you missed George - which was almost constantly - or when things became a bit much, you would find yourself gripping the necklace, rubbing the gold chain in search of comfort. It was nowhere near the level of comfort George himself brought you, but it did well enough.

You werent, however, moping about just because George was gone. You were a proud, strong, independent woman, and you could function perfectly fine without him. This wasn’t his first tour, and you weren’t new to the overall lack of George. Your world didn’t revolve around him - you had a job and a life outside of the boys - but that also didn’t mean you didn’t miss your closest friends when they went away.

You were fine, honestly, but sometimes you simply wanted to chat with the boys about nonsense or complain about your days like you often did when they were home. On their previous tours, you had been able to still talk to them - but your new job had made it almost impossible and you were struggling.

However, it was the barely missed messages from George that made this tour more difficult than the rest.

It was the simple “Miss you, Darling &lt;3” text that made you unbelievably giddy and the quick voice messages he would leave when you inevitably missed his call - each starting with a “Hello, Darling” and ending with “Love you, Darling. Talk to you soon.”

It was two long months of poor communication and getting flustered by the smallest bits of attention you would get from him. You had missed him before, but the longing that came with his absence this time was different and you were acutely aware of it.

You would tear up watching the clips from the end of their latest show as they bowed to the crowd, George wrapping Matty in one of his hugs that you desperately craved. Your stomach would turn, imagining him out at some club with a girl that wasn’t you, hugging a girl who wasn’t you, kissing a girl that was not you.

It was envy. It was jealousy. It was longing and wanting. You were in love with him, that much you had come to terms with, but it was two weeks before they were due back home that you came to the gut-wrenching conclusion that you weren’t okay with not trying something.

You decided that you couldn’t sit back and watch anymore - you were going to make him realize that you were a fucking catch. You were a fucking catch and you had been there the whole time, through thick and thin, for worse or for better, and you fucking loved him.

When you got a message from George, one inviting you out once they got back, you jumped at the opportunity.They were wanting to get a group together - you, the band, and some other close mutual friends - to go out for a night of fun a few days after Christmas and you were practically buzzing at the thought.

You hadn’t had a proper night out since before the lads had left for tour, and paired with the prospect of seeing your best friends again after months apart, your nerves were completely shot.

Never before had you been nervous to see the boys. You’d known them for years, and you were sure that it was mostly excitement that was keeping you awake at night, but there was still that small bit of anxiety that crept in when you thought about seeing George.

You were so happy to be seeing him again - but now that you were aware of how you felt about him, you were worried that things would change for the worse. What if you were awkward? What if you got flustered and embarrassed yourself? What if those messages were just to his best friend and you had been reading too far into them? What if you put yourself out there to be rejected?

You were spiraling. Why were you spiraling? It’s just George. Your George, your best friend. You were completely overthinking all of it. It wasn’t like you were going to confess your undying love the first time you see him after months. It would be fine - so long as you didn’t freak yourself out. It’s a get together with a bunch of friends, not the end of the world.

Even so, you couldn’t help but feel a bit of pressure to at least look your best. It wasn’t a need to impress anyone, honestly. You just wanted to get dressed up, to look nice after wearing the same boring clothes every day for work - and this outing just happened to give you that opportunity. George being there was just a happy coincidence.

Plus, it finally gave you a reason to wear the new dress you had bought.

You hadn’t intended to buy anything while you were out last week, you just wanted to get out of the house and do something not work related. But then you saw it through the window and you knew you had to at least try it on.

The dress was a far cry from your usual getup - not one for dresses and frilly things - but something about it was calling to you.

It was a simple, silky black dress with a deep v-cut in the neck that perfectly displayed your breasts. The top of the dress was lined with gold and the straps came up and around your neck before zig-zagging down your back and lacing up the dress, forgoing the struggle of any zippers. There were two meticulously placed slits above each knee, giving a clear view of the sides of your thighs and allowing for movement in the fitting material.

It was gorgeous, and you felt powerful in it. The way it emphasized your curves in all the right places, molding to your body and showing off all of your assets had you head over heels for the dress. Overall it was a relatively plain dress- but it fit you so well that it looked like it was intricately made just for you.

And maybe you had George on your mind when you tried it on, maybe you saw an image of it lying on the ground after he had taken it off of you. It wasn’t exactly the worst thought.

And so you bought it. You had no clue when you planned to wear it, you just knew you had to have it - in hopes that maybe, just maybe, that fantasy could come to life.

When George invited you out, you decided it was the perfect opportunity to wear it. So you put on the dress, along with a pair of heels that lace up your legs, and left your flat feeling more confident than you had in months.

All of which brought you to where you are now, at a table in the corner of the club, clutching your drink and watching on as George chats up some girl at the bar.

You watch as she places her hand on his bicep before laughing a little too enthusiastically at whatever it was George had been saying.

If you didn’t know any better, you would think they were getting on just fine and that George was going to have a successful pull tonight; but you do know better.

You see how his eyes go wide when she looks away for a moment, removing her hand from him to grab her drink. The way he looks at her like she's grown two heads and is likely thinking what the fuck is going on.

And when she places her hand back on his arm, you see how he tenses ever so slightly and doesn’t seem to relax.

The sight makes you grip your glass tighter. Any confidence you had when you left the flat had all but disappeared once you caught sight of your best friend. You had been so excited to see him, you didn’t stop to think about whether he would be preoccupied with someone else.

Someone else who is so conventionally pretty that you feel like your dress pales in comparison - even if George seems uncomfortable with all the attention she keeps trying to smother him with.

“If you grip that glass any tighter I think you might break it.”

The unexpected but familiar voice breaks you out of your sulking, if only for a moment, as you sigh before glancing at the man who was now cockily leaning against the post next to your table.

You look him up and down before sighing, “Matthew.”

His response is immediate, “Y/n.”

“To what do I owe the displeasure?”

Matty gasps, throwing his hand over his heart in mock offense and looking at you with wide eyes that show the amusement and mischief dancing in them.

“Now, y/n/n, is that any way to greet your dear friend after two long months apart?”

You shoot him an unamused look in response.

Matty, however, ignores you and continues on. “I couldn’t help but notice your brooding and decided that I’d come save the glass from imminent destruction.”

You roll your eyes and put as much sarcasm as possible into your response. “Wow, Ratty- you’re a true comedian.”

He simply smirks at your tone. “What can I say? I’m a natural.”

You huff out a laugh, unable to stop yourself. You had to admit, you’d missed having him around - regardless of how insufferable he could be.

Matty had a tendency to be so obnoxious that it easily took your mind off of whatever you were originally thinking about, and you knew he acted this way with that exact purpose in mind.

Coming up next to you, Matty smiles as he reaches his arm around your shoulders for a side hug and gives you a shake. “Oh, didn’t you just miss me so much?”

You give a good laugh at that before turning to look him in the eyes and giving him a deadpan look, saying, “Oh, yes. So much, Matty. Not sure how I survived these two, absolutely horrible, months apart.” with the most sarcasm you could muster.

Matty lets out a loud cackle and pulls you closer. “Oh, how I've missed your cheery self.” You can't help but smile at him. “How’ve you been, Y/n/n?”

You shrug, "Alright, yeah. How've you been? How was tour?"

And that question alone sends Matty into a long winded explanation of what they had gotten into during tour and what it was like this time around.

It was somewhere between his description of their Madison Square Garden show and the afterparty that you stopped listening.

It wasn't on purpose by any means, you truly did want to hear about how everything went this time around, but you were distracted.

Distracted because George was still talking to that girl - more like she was talking to him and he was being forced to listen - and he looked like he was growing more uncomfortable by the second. Couldn't she see that he wasn't interested?

Matty was still talking as you continued to watch them interact. You watch her say something and see George's eyes go comically wide as he looks around to see if anyone else was seeing this - or maybe he was looking for an escape.

You see her go to grab his hand and watch as he swiftly moves both hands

away to clutch at his drink. She seems to only pause for a moment before she decides to place her hand on his thigh. His thigh. And you see the way George stiffens under her touch, making you tense up yourself.

"You really might break that glass if you don't let go - that or you're going to burn a hole into that poor girl's head with all your staring."

You jump a little at Matty's sudden comment, not expecting him to direct the conversation towards you again. You look down at your glass, finally realizing that you had, in fact, been gripping the glass so hard that your knuckles had begun to turn white - and you immediately let go.

Looking back at Matty, you see both amusement and sympathy in his eyes, making you let out a scoff. 

"Don't know what you're going on about, Matty - what was it you were saying about the afterparty?"

Matty chuckles at your poor attempt at changing the topic, he wasn't letting it slide this time. "Oh don't go pretending like you were listening, Y/n/n. I moved on from the Garden afterparty a good bit ago, you just weren't paying attention.

You make an indignant sound at that. "That's not true, I-"

"Don't even try, love," Matty smirks at you before glancing over at George and patting your shoulder. "No worries, you were distracted - understandably so, he looks a bit cozy doesn't he?"

You scoff immediately. “No, he does not.”

Matty grins at you, “Oh?”

“He looks ridiculously uncomfortable right now, just look at him,” gesturing your arm over in George’s direction.

Matty directs his attention to his best mate, watching as the girl bats her eyelashes and lays her hand on George’s arm. He sees the way George tenses under her touch and the way his eyes widen to whatever she’s just said. 

“That’s the fifth time she’s tried to touch him, and he basically freezes every time.” You huff. 

“Five times, huh? You keeping count, y/n/n?” Matty turns to head to look at you, entertained by your mood.

You make an indignant noise at his words, “What? No- I- I'm just being a good friend is all.”

Matty nods his head exaggeratedly in false agreement, turning back to watch George. “Right, yes- a good friend… that you happen to be in love with.” Your jaw drops. “Definitely not jealousy.”

“How did you-”

He cuts you off, “Did you know, Y/n -” he briefly glances your way, “that red wine makes you rather talkative?”

You let out a loud groan, placing your head in your hands. 

Matty chuckles at your reaction, “Easy now, it’s alright- we already knew as much.”

“We? Oh my god, does George-” Your head shoots up in time to see Matty shaking his head. 

“No, you didn’t tell him and he doesn’t know - at least not unless you told him once we left you alone.”

You let out a sigh of relief, slumping into your seat and placing your head back into your hands. Being drunk wasn’t the way you wanted to tell George how you felt. 

Honestly, you had hoped to do it tonight, but any confidence you had to address the situation has long since disappeared. 

You keep your face in one hand while the other subconsciously starts fiddling with the necklace around your neck, thankful for its presence and the comfort it offers.

“He does look like he’s having an awful time doesn’t he?”

Matty’s words break you out of your head, and you look up to see George with his head thrown back and staring at the ceiling as if he was wishing for it to swallow him whole, paying absolutely no attention to whatever it is that the girl happens to be saying.

“It’s actually painful to watch.” You shake your head at the scene.

“If it’s so painful, why don’t you walk your perky self over there and help him?”

You turn to look at Matty, giving him a glare for his choice of wording. He really thinks he’s funny, doesn’t he?

To be honest, you aren’t sure why you hadn’t gone over there to help him yet. You’d been debating it for a bit now, and there’s every reason to go over there and get him out of the mess he’s found himself in - but there was something still holding you back. 

You sigh, “I don’t know, Matty.”

Matty purses his lips and looks back at the bar as his phone buzzes in his pocket. 

“Not sure what you think could go wrong - he’s definitely not enjoying himself.”

He makes no move to get it, even as it buzzes a few more times. You open your mouth to snarkily respond to his comment, but the short spaces of silence turn into a long, consistent buzzing sound - completely cutting you off.

The sound is beyond irritating, even more so because Matty still chooses to ignore the vibrations in his pocket. “For fucks sake, Matty. Will you answer your damn phone? At least silence it if you aren’t going to respond.”

“I’m sorry, is it bothering you, y/n/n?” Matty gives you a cheeky smile, to which you stare back unamused, as he finally reaches into his pocket.

He pulls his phone out and unlocks it with every intention of just turning off his phone for a bit - that is, until he sees who the messages are from. He pauses to read the incoming texts and lets out a loud chuckle.

“Well then, y/n. I’d consider this a sign if I ever saw one.”

You look at him confused. “What- What are you going on about?”

He simply glances up from his phone smirking and says, “Looks like your loverboy needs saving.” 

He turns the phone around to show you his phone screen where you see 23 messages from George, and you watch as one more comes through that makes you let out a breathy laugh.

Help

Mate seriously

Get me a glass of milk

Asap

Milk me, seriously

Help

Now

Please

At this point come throw a glass of milk on me

So she will fucking fuck the fuck  o f f

Matty I’m spamming you for a reason

I know you’re laughing

Stop it

Can you actually be a good mate for once please

Matty

Matt

MATTHEW

You fuckhead why don’t you have your phone on you

THIS IS WHY HANN IS BETTER THAN YOU. 

I need you to

HELP ME NOW

Cunt. just now

You read over his messages, laughing at the panic that you can practically feel emanating through the phone. “Oh you are absolutely gonna hear it later.”

“Yeah, yeah - I’m very much aware. It’ll be fine, he’s going to like my solution better anyways.” You’re still chuckling at George’s messages and you look back at Matty as he speaks, pulling his phone back. 

“What?” You watch as he quickly types something out, pressing send and putting his phone away. 

You’re still staring at him in confusion while he looks at you expectantly. “Well?” He huffs, “Why are you still sitting here? She’s on your man.”

And you don't have time to overthink what it is that you’re about to do before you stand up.

• • •

Part 2

a/n: Okay, that's it for part 1 of 2 - up next is the fun part and my personal favourite half of the story. I hope you guys enjoyed!! see you same time next week <3 xoxo - K

[tillthelandslide]

Lou's Fic Recs (new)

Matty:

piercer Matty! Part 1 & part 2 by @sugar-coat-it

does it matter by @procrastinatinglikeapro

mechanic Matty by @noacfslut

and I'm petrified of being alone, now by @heyidkyay

hot to go @noacfslut

white and gold & the nsfw alphabet by @wreckedandpolemic

George:

dancing like she way out by @toomuchracket

one for the road by @abiiors

night, midnight, lose my mind by @grocerystorelist

car head by @wreckedandpolemic

subby matty by @think0fmehigh

Ross:

bunny by @abiiors

this by @abiiors (anything she writes is gold btw)

pierced by @wrestletotheground

workout ross by @wrestletotheground

the spring curse by @abiiors

new writers ( this is a new thing im doing but everytime i'll be including some new writers -to me, that ive read, that i think you should check out <3 )

@abboutross has some great ross fics and im enjoying her new series anywhere you go

@coucous-ballad posted this recently and i hope she writes more bc i love her

[whimsicalpolitical]

Sweater weather - George Daniel x Reader

day 6 of promptober 🍁

you convince george to warm you up

content warning: 18+mdni, oral (f receiving),

“This one sounds alright, mate,” George says, tapping his computer mouse twice, “doesn’t it?”

It’s been a struggle to watch the boys trying to find the right rhythm to the song, either the order is shit or it just doesn’t sound right.

“Don’t know, G. I’m bloody indecisive about that song,” Matty runs a hand through his hair.

George shakes his head. “We’ve tried everything—might just need to leave it for a bit.”

Matty sighs again, clearly frustrated. “Maybe you’re right.” He pushes his hands into his pockets and turns towards the door. “I’m gonna grab a Red Bull or something. You want anything?”

George shakes his head and Matty nods, walking towards the door.

“And you, love? You look a bit pale, do I need to bring you a drink?”

You put your phone down next to you and feel the worried gaze of George on you. You give him a warm smile and shake your head.

“I’m alright, thanks.”

Matty gives you a nod, though his eyes linger on you for a moment longer, as if he doesn’t entirely believe you. “Alright, I’ll be back in a bit.”

George sits there, still staring at the screen, but after a beat, he sighs and pulls his headphones off, tossing them onto the desk.

“Don’t think it’s gonna work today,” he mutters, leaning back in his chair and rubbing a hand over his face. “We’ve been at it for hours, and it still feels... off, you know?”

You nod, understanding the frustration. “Yeah, sometimes it’s like that. Maybe stepping away for a bit will help.”

He glances at you, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a half-smile. “You’re always too patient with us.”

You shrug. “Just know how it goes.”

George chuckles, shaking his head. “Yeah, well, thanks for sticking it out with us, even when we’re indecisive idiots.”

There’s a brief silence, and George’s eyes flicker to you again, more focused this time. His expression softens, the playful tone in his voice fading as he tilts his head slightly. “Darling, you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

But George doesn’t look convinced. He sits up a little straighter, his gaze more intent. “Really alright?”

His eyes dart down to your arms, and you realize you’ve been absentmindedly rubbing them, trying to generate some warmth. The chill that had settled over you since you got here is now impossible to ignore, and your body has started to shiver without you even noticing.

George frowns. “You’re shaking.”

You open your mouth to brush it off, but before you can say anything, he’s already standing up, his eyes narrowing in that concerned, affectionate way that’s so typically him. “Did you not bring a jumper or something?”

You shake your head, sheepish. “I didn’t think it’d be this cold in here.”

George lets out a soft sigh, already tugging at the hem of his hoodie. “Should’ve known better, love. It’s bloody freezing.”

He pulls the hoodie over his head in one smooth motion. His shirt under his hoodie rides up in the process showing off his soft stomach.

“Arms up.”

You hesitate for a second, but the look on his face makes it clear he’s not taking no for an answer. You raise your arms, and George carefully slips the hoodie over your head. It’s big on you, practically swallowing you whole, but the instant warmth that surrounds you is a welcome relief.

“There we go,” George murmurs, stepping back and giving you a once-over, his grin soft but satisfied. “Much better, yeah?”

You nod, pulling the sleeves down over your hands. The fabric smells like him—faint traces of his cologne mixed with something warm and familiar. “Yeah, a lot better. Thanks.”

He watches you for a moment longer, his eyes lingering on you as if he’s making sure you’re properly comfortable. “Next time, don’t be stubborn, alright? Just tell me if you’re freezing.”

“I didn’t want to interrupt,” you say, smiling softly.

“Baby,” he says, “I’d rather have you speaking up before you freeze.”

Before you can argue again he takes your hand and motions for you to stand up.

“Come here.”

Before you can protest or ask what he’s doing, he pulls you closer, guiding you onto his lap. You settle down sideways, your legs draped over the armrest while his hands rest naturally at your waist, holding you securely in place. The warmth from his body makes you relax almost immediately, the chill you’d been fighting all day finally ebbing away.

“Comfortable?” he asks, voice low and casual, though there’s an unmistakable softness in his tone.

You nod, adjusting yourself slightly. “Mhm, very.”

He presses play on the track again, the song that’s been plaguing him and Matty all day starting up once more. George watches the screen for a moment, but his fingers absentmindedly trace patterns against your side. The rhythmic motion is soothing, and you can’t help but feel a bit more at peace.

“How much longer do you think you’ll be at this?” you ask, turning your head to glance at him.

George sighs, his eyes narrowing as he looks at the monitor. “A couple more hours, probably.”

You groan, slumping back against his chest. “A couple of hours? I was hoping you’d say like, ten minutes.”

He chuckles softly, the sound rumbling through his chest. “Sorry, love. Matty’s on one of his perfectionist streaks. Could be here all night at this rate.”

You tilt your head back to look at him, feeling a playful pout tug at your lips. “I’m starting to regret tagging along now,” you joke, though there’s a hint of truth behind it. The idea of a few more hours in the chilly studio isn’t exactly thrilling.

George cocks his head to the side, his expression softening. “I’m sorry, baby. Should’ve known it’d drag on like this.”

You shake your head quickly. “No, it’s fine, really. I just… I can’t wait to get home and be warm, you know?”

“Well, there are other ways to warm up.”

Before you can fully register what he means, he leans in, his lips brushing yours in a slow, deliberate kiss. His hand tightens slightly on your waist, pulling you closer against him as the kiss deepens, his warmth seeping into you in more ways than one.

You let out a soft hum of surprise, but quickly melt into it, your hands instinctively finding their way to his shoulders.

His tongue is licking at the seam of your lips while he brings one of his hands up to cup the back of your head. You grant him access, parting your lips and tangling your tongues together.

When he wants to pull back you immediately move forward and bring your lips together again.

You’ve been watching him the whole day, without getting to touch him or kiss him. Every time you see George doing what he loves it’s the biggest turn on ever, and now, wearing his hoodie and sitting on his lap- you need him for yourself.

“Baby,” he groans, cupping your face to hold you in place, “miss eager, matty’s gonna come back any second, we can’t snog in here.”

“You were the one kissing me like that.”

“Like what,” he throws his hands up defensively, “just wanted to warm you up a bit.”

“Try harder,” you smirk.

“Jesus, baby,” he says, “what- now?”

“Mhm.”

You smirk at George’s ambivalent facial expression. He so badly wants you but he doesn’t want to get caught.

“Matty will probably go for a smoke anyway and it won’t stay at one considering the day you had.”

George groans because he gives in, he always does. With one quick kiss he slides you off of him and walks towards the door.

He looks back at your questioning look and smiles.

“What are you waiting for then? Get on the couch, yeah.”

You nod, suddenly feeling too good for teasing or talking back. The feeling of the heat between your thighs clouding your mind.

You sit down at your previous spot and watch George lock the door.

He lets out a displeased sound, “don’t even want to know what Matty will say if he’s going to find out.”

“He’s not, George. Not if you move fast.”

“M’coming.”

Smiling from ear to ear he walks over to you, sitting down next to you.

You sigh as his tongue swipes along your bottom lip, before eagerly pushing into your mouth. The taste of powerade and cigarettes invade your mouth, and you reached up to place a hand on the side of his neck.

His thumb strokes your cheekbone softly, fingers drifting into the hair behind your ear, cradling your face. You can feel his pulse racing under the skin, and you’re gasping wetly into the kiss as his free hand lands on your waist.

Devastated to break the moment, you pull back for a breath of air, scraping your teeth across his bottom lip, and nipping it gently.

George grunts, gripping your waist and pulling you across the couch so you are above him, hovering over his lap. While you take deep breaths, he presses sweet kisses along your cheek, down your chin, and to the skin of your neck. He is insatiable, not taking his mouth off you for a second.

“You’re so sexy, fuck.”

His chest heaves with heavy breaths, and he runs his fingers lightly along your clothed hips while staring up at you. His eyes are heavy with longing, lips wet from your kisses, and you are certain it is the most attractive he'd ever looked.

“We need to stop here,” he says.

You pout but he laughs and puts his thumb on your lip instead.

“I don’t mean totally stop, darling. You told me to move fast and I will, but let’s forget me for now, alright? You’re cold and I’ll fix that.”

Before you can say anything else he grips your hips and lays you onto the couch.

“There we go,” he encourages, moving down the couch to find your pants.

His hands drift down to finish undoing your belt. He tugs and pushes your pants down your legs, and your underwear going with them.

George pulls back and lets his dark eyes run over your body.

"You’re drenched. S’my hoodie doing it for you?”

“You’re doing it for me.” You stare up at him in anticipation.

Under his intense gaze, your skin feels hot. Heat is rising everywhere his eyes roam. George manages to kneel somehow in front of you, and his large hands grip your knees, pulling them apart.

“You’re an absolute dream, love. Although you are a bit of a needy girl.”

He lifts his hoodie up your body with the shirt you’re wearing underneath.

He presses teasing kisses down your stomach, along the inside of your thighs, dragging his tongue tantalisingly, making goosebumps ripple out across your flesh. Puffed breaths are whispering along your skin everywhere except where you need his mouth to be, and you are aching. You clench around nothing, and let out a pitiful whimper when he finally exhales over your wet heat.

Suddenly, his tongue licks a solid stripe all the way along your throbbing core, and you cry out. Finally.

“Fuckin’ quiet,” he laughs, “I’m begging you, darling.”

You nod, “sorry,” then you pull his hoodie up more, biting down onto the fabric.

“Fuck,” he groans, inhaling deeply. His tongue is strong, shifting between swiping back and forth across your pulsing clit, and gently prodding into your entrance. George pulls one of your thighs up onto his shoulder, and holds his palm against the other one, pinning it to the couch. His fingers dig into your skin, and the pressure only adds to the sensation of his mouth on you.

“Look at you, love.”

"George," you breathe heavily. He moans into you in response, rubbing small circles over your clit with his tongue.

"Oh fuck," you whisper, eyes rolling back as you

You rock your hips up against his face.

“Perfect, love. Use me, make yourself feel good.”

"Fuck." His hand moves from your thigh up to your chest, grabbing your breasts through your bra as he fucks you with his mouth. George is ravenous and unrelenting, and being so close to him the whole day, you feel yourself close to orgasm within minutes.

“baby, come on now,” he whispers, “I’m going to be all sweet with you later.”

After a few more seconds of his tongue dragging gloriously over you, you let out a deep moan and shudder into the fabric, thighs tightening impossibly around his head. You ride out your high.

Somewhere through the pounding in your ears, you can hear George moaning with you, and feel the vibrations running through your core. When you finally come down, your thighs relax over his shoulders, but he isn’t done.

His tongue flicks lazily over your clit, cleaning you up. He pulls your aching bud between his lips, and gives it a soft suck.

"George," you gasp, grabbing his shoulders and pushing him away, “I’m warm now.”

He smirks as he looks up at you, “done an alright job then.”

“Fuck yes.” You giggle, “thank you, baby.”

“Mhm,” he hums, coming up, pulling your pants and underwear with him.

He leans down and kisses your lips, gliding his tongue past your lips in order to let you taste yourself on him.

You groan against him but he pulls away.

“Am I alright to open the door again?” He asks innocently, stroking your cheek tenderly.

“Of course,” you smile.

George stands up and unlocks the door, opening it as well to stick his head to the door. It seems like Matty isn’t anywhere near because George lets out a relaxed breath as he strolls to his chair.

“I should never bring my own hoodie.”

George only laughs at that, shaking his head at you jokingly.

“It won’t be another hour, promise.”

[graciegoeskrazy]

I find it hard to say bye bye

(George Daniel + stepdaughter!r + Charli)

warnings: parents fighting, mentions of absent parent, crying, reader is young, not teen reader, SAD GUYS ITS SAD BUT ITLL BE OKAY

a/n: thx anon for requesting! I really like this one!

The fight started late in the evening, when you were supposed to be in bed. You weren’t, of course. You were sitting cross-legged on the floor, coloring in one of your favorite books by the soft glow of your bedside lamp. The quiet hum of the house made you feel safe, a kind of calm you didn’t question. Until it was gone.

It started as muffled voices drifting up from downstairs—George’s steady and low, your mom’s sharper and insistent. You paused, the crayon still in your hand, as you strained to hear. The words were too faint at first, just a cadence of frustration. Then Charli’s voice cut through, louder, carrying an edge that made your stomach twist.

“You’re leaving again, George. You’re gone while I’m here trying to hold everything together!”

“Charli, don’t do this,” George replied, his voice tight, but softer. “We talked about this already.”

“No, you talked, George. You decided. And now I’m the one stuck explaining to her why you’re gone all the time!”

You froze, your coloring book abandoned as the argument grew louder.

“It’s not like I want to leave!” George snapped. “You think this is easy for me? I hate being away just as much as you do!”

“Then don’t go,” Charli shot back. “If you hate it so much, stay! Stay here and help me! Because I can’t keep doing this alone, George. I can’t!”

Your chest tightened as their voices climbed, crashing against each other like a storm. You climbed into bed, pulling the blanket over your head, but it didn’t drown out the sound.

“I’m not leaving you alone!” George’s frustration was evident now, sharp and cutting. “I call every day, Charli. I FaceTime her. I make the effort! Do you think I don’t care? That I don’t feel guilty every single time I get on that plane?”

“But you still leave,” Charli fired back. “And you don’t have to deal with the fallout, George. I do. I’m the one holding her while she cries. I’m the one answering her questions when she asks why you’re not here. I’m the one trying to keep her from thinking it’s her fault!”

“That’s not fair,” George said, his voice quieter but no less tense. “I’m doing the best I can, Charli.”

“Well, it’s not enough!”

A heavy silence followed, broken only by George’s sigh.

“And what about you? Huh?” he said finally, his tone colder now. “You’re going on tour soon, aren’t you? So what’s your plan, Charli? Who’s going to pick up the pieces then?”

“That’s not the same!” Charli’s voice cracked. “When I leave, I’m not running away from this family—I’m contributing to it!”

“And you think I’m not?” George’s voice rose again. “I’m out there working my ass off for both of you! Don’t pin this all on me just because you’re overwhelmed!”

The tension in his words hung heavy in the air, and for a moment, there was only silence. Then Charli spoke, her voice low but trembling with anger.

“I’m overwhelmed because you’re not here, George. I’m overwhelmed because I feel like I’m raising her alone again, even when you’re home. And I’m scared, okay? I’m scared that one day you’re not going to come back.”

Something slammed downstairs—maybe the counter, maybe a door. You flinched, tears burning your eyes as the fight reached its breaking point.

“You don’t get to say that to me,” George replied, his voice sharp but quieter, almost trembling now. “You don’t get to accuse me of abandoning her when I’ve done everything I possibly can to be here for both of you. For her. I could’ve done nothing when it came to that little girl. I could’ve quietly thrown her to the side just like every single other douchebag who came into her life before they left,” Your mom’s jaw visibly clenched at his words. “But I didn’t. I’ve loved her with every ounce of my soul and treated her like she was mine every day for the past almost 4 years. So, don’t you dare say that to me.”

The door slammed, and your heart clenched painfully at the sound. You stayed frozen under your blanket, listening as the silence settled heavily over the house. You heard your mom’s footsteps, deliberate and heavy, moving around the kitchen. But George’s voice was gone.

He had left.

…

The door clicked softly as George entered, shoulders slumped with the weight of the evening of the next day. Charli looked up from the armchair, her face lined with worry, but her relief at seeing him was evident.

“Hi,” he said quietly, stepping closer.

“Hi,” she replied, her voice soft.

There was a beat of silence as they stood there, the tension between them thawing slightly. George opened his arms hesitantly, and Charli moved into them without hesitation.

“I missed you,” he murmured into her hair.

“I missed you most,” she said, her voice muffled against his chest. It had only been a day, less than 24 hours. Yet, it felt like years for the both of them.

George exhaled deeply, pulling back just enough to see her face. “Where’s Y/n?” he asked, his brow furrowing as if already bracing for bad news.

Charli hesitated, glancing toward the stairs. “She’s, um…”

“She’s what?” he pressed, his voice rising slightly in alarm.

Charli sighed, running a hand through her hair. “She got really upset after you left.”

“What?” George’s eyes widened, and his hands clenched at his sides. “She got upset? Why?”

She hesitated again, choosing her words carefully. “I think it… triggered something.”

“Triggered?” His voice was sharp now, his anxiety bubbling to the surface.

“She got really sad,” Your mom explained. “Just kept crying and crying. And when I told her you were on your way back, she got really angry.”

George blinked, trying to piece it together. “Angry? At me?”

Charli nodded, her expression apologetic. “I think so. She said some things, but I couldn’t quite get through to her.”

“Where is she?” His voice was urgent now, his entire focus shifting to you.

“Her room,” Charli said, her voice dropping slightly. “I told her you were almost home, but she wouldn’t come out.”

George was already moving toward the stairs when your mom called softly after him.

He walked down the hall to your room, hesitating. Charli stood away, leaning on the wall with her arms crossed, waiting.

The soft knock on your bedroom door barely registered over the sound of your sniffles. You pulled the blanket tighter around yourself, burying your face further into the pillow.

“Baby?” George’s familiar voice called gently. “It’s Georgie. Can I come in?”

“No.” Your voice was small but firm, muffled by the pillow.

“Why not?” he asked, his tone laced with both concern and patience.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” you replied, trying to sound resolute, but your voice wavered.

There was a pause before he tried again. “Please? I missed you last night.”

You didn’t answer.

“Y/N, come on, let me in,” he said, his voice softening further.

Behind the door, Charli’s voice chimed in, calm yet reassuring. “Let him in, baby.”

You hesitated before finally slipping out of bed and dragging your feet to the door. Opening it just wide enough to let him in, you didn’t look at him, immediately retreating to your bed.

“Thank you, my love,” George murmured before stepping inside. He closed the door behind him and turned his attention to you, curled up with your back to him.

He crossed the room and sat carefully on the edge of your bed. “What did you do today?” he asked lightly.

You shrugged without turning to face him.

“Nothing?” he pressed gently.

You shook your head, still refusing to meet his gaze.

George hummed softly, a quiet sound of acknowledgment. He let the silence stretch for a moment before speaking again, his voice laced with regret. “I’m sorry I scared you, Y/n.”

You froze at his words, your hands clutching the blanket tightly.

“Sit up for me, hm?” he coaxed, his tone tender but insistent.

Reluctantly, you pushed yourself up, still not looking at him.

He let the silence drag on for just a moment as you adjusted yourself. Your eyes casted down Still. “Why did you get scared?” he asked, his voice dropping even softer. “Can you tell me?”

You hesitated, your lip quivering as you fought the tears threatening to spill.

George waited, giving you the space you needed. When you finally spoke, your voice cracked. “I thought you weren’t gonna come back.”

The words tumbled out in a sob, your small frame shaking as the tears fell freely.

George’s heart twisted at the sight of you. “Oh, honey,” he said, moving closer. “Of course I was gonna come back.”

You cried harder, and George reached out to pull you into his arms.

“What have I always said to you and Momma?” he asked, his voice steady and reassuring as he rocked you gently.

“That you love us more than anything or anyone,” you mumbled through your tears.

“And what have I said about my love for you?”

You sniffled, hesitating before whispering, “…That…you love me like I was your own.”

“That’s right,” he said firmly. “I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. I’m sorry I scared you. I should’ve known better. But you’re stuck with me, baby. I don’t know what else to tell you.”

He held you close for a moment longer before shifting you onto his lap, your head resting on his shoulder. He wiped the tears from your cheeks and gently pushed a few stray strands of hair out of your face.

“Do you forgive me?” he asked softly.

You nodded, still avoiding his eyes.

“Look at me,” he said gently but firmly.

You hesitated, then finally lifted your gaze to meet his.

“I love you,” he said, his voice steady and full of warmth.

“I love you too,” you replied, your voice small but sincere.

George smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “That’s my girl,” he murmured, holding you close as the weight of the moment slowly lifted.

[wreckedandpolemic]

thinking about matty having a gf and sharing her with george while being on tour 🥺👉🏼👈🏼

this made me bluescreen! good job! thinking about matty inviting you along on tour like need somethin’ pretty to look at to keep my spirits up, yeah? m’sure i can keep you busy somehow and of course you agree in a heartbeat, find yourself bent over and filled up whenever and wherever you want.

a couple of weeks in, you start getting self-conscious about the knowing looks the others are throwing you, and especially that george’s are blatantly lust-filled. george keeps looking at me like he wants to fuck me, you tell him, lips loosened by the echoes of pleasure still coursing through your body. matty’s reaction is the polar opposite of what you’d expected, his lips parting softly as he murmurs is that something you’d want, sweet girl?

the question sends heat dripping through your core, and you nod. y’wanna be a good little toy for us both? yeah? we can do that, angel. and he dirty talks you about it all night, murmuring that you’d look so pretty full of him, baby. god, such a good girl, always just wanna please, huh?

and, of course, the three of you have a serious, sit-down discussion about it, but where’s the fun without any roleplay? so george watches you with matty like it’s the most normal thing in the world, lazily palming himself through his jeans. when he cums, matty turns to george like d’you want a turn? looks like you need it, mate. she’s so sweet, all ready for you. makes such a perfect little cumdump.

your entire body feels like it’s on fire, teasing humiliation prickling arousal under your skin. you grin over at george, turning your best fuck-me eyes on him as he approaches you slowly. his jeans crumple to the floor and your mouth waters at the sheer fucking size of him. you ready, baby? you nod eagerly. please. the stretch and burn when he enters you is fucking glorious, heat throbbing between your legs as george fucks you like a toy. matty watches on, almost proud, as you whimper and writhe under george.

he finishes on your chest, spits into the mess and swipes his fingers through. you suck them clean eagerly, grinning dazedly up at george as he gets dressed. y’ever need to take out some stress, mate, you know where she is, matty says, his condescending tone as he speaks like you’re not even there turning your already-soupy mind to mush. she’s such a good girl, she’ll take anything, he adds proudly, and you nod feverishly.

being shared between them is like a dream, never more than a few hours from a good fuck. your favourite nights, though, are the ones where they take you at the same time, one fucking your mouth while the other fucks your cunt. even when tour ends, it’s not uncommon for george to come over for some stress relief, making you cum on his dick until you can barely breathe while matty looks on with lust-black eyes. yeah. hot.

[alovesreading]

Nice Kind Of Messy

Summary: Your friends set you up on a blind date, one that you aren't really looking forward to at all but when you find George Daniel there waiting outside the restaurant, there is no doubt it'll be a date to remember.

Word Count: 16.7k 

Warnings: smut.

A/N: So I wrote this as part of my Alex series but I figured I should turn it into a one shot so my George girlies could read it without having to commit to a long Alex Turner fic lol It took me a while to get it ready on one shot form but I hope you enjoy now that it's here hehehe xx

Masterlist

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

You wake up that morning quite nervous. Your excitement makes you shiver in anticipation but the feeling brushes the line of anxiety and it’s rather overwhelming.

You’ve not been really looking to date lately, there hasn’t been any type of enthusiasm when hinted about putting yourself out there again since you got cheated on by your ex boyfriend. You couldn’t be arsed about it—the whole process of actively trying to look for a person that you felt was right and suited what you at least felt was the bare minimum was exhausting just to think about.

Going out with your friends was almost always a failed mission. They tried to get you out on the pull with them but you ended up straying back to the table and waving them goodbye when they came back with someone hanging from their arm, winking at them as if to wish them a good night.

They had only been lucky to send you off with someone a handful of times, but despite their best efforts to push you to pursue those who you had spent a night with, you had left them as that: a one night stand.

So they had used a new method this time, which entailed the fact that they had apparently been scheming about behind your back for a few weeks. You had only found out when you were having a wine night with them over at your flat, your jaw dropping and brows furrowing when they let you know they had made a reservation at a certain restaurant in Covent Garden so that you could meet up with someone they swore was the perfect match for you.

“It’s a blind date, we can’t tell you,” said one of your friends with a wicked grin on her face, sipping on her wine as you took the time to glare at your other two friends sitting on your settee.

They only offered you gallic shrugs and giggles, bubbly and high pitched which unfortunately managed to tug at the corners of your lips until they formed a smile.

A happy, “You’re excited then?” made you realize what you were doing, so you took a gulp of your wine and shook your head in disagreement as you swallowed.

“No, I’m just confused.” You really were, it was worse you didn’t have a clue who it could be because there wasn’t really anyone you think had shown interest towards you that you all knew. “Am I allowed to back out?”

You hoped you could, even if a meal at a restaurant you had been dying to go to for ages paid by one of them was on the cards here, but you were truly wary about throwing yourself into a situation where you actually had to put yourself in the dating mindset.

As you cursed your stupid cheating scum of an ex for ruining the prospect of dating for you, your friends shook their heads and said, “No.” in unison.

And they unfortunately went on to explain how your date knew about it already and had cleared their schedule for it to happen, and since you were an awful people pleaser, you sighed in defeat and agreed to go.

So there you are, slowly making your way to your kitchen to make yourself breakfast, despite the nerves making your stomach flip constantly and making you nauseous. Slowly you eat, slowly you wash your dishes and put them away.

You do everything slowly that day, taking a long shower and lounging in bed, still in your robe and letting your hair air dry. The date wasn’t until four so you still had time, and you figured if you went about it at a steady pace, then by the time you were fully ready you would have to leave and there wouldn’t really be a long space of time for you to bail out at the last minute.

By the time it hits noon, you’re doing your hair. Straightening it and curling the ends leisurely, humming along the music you’re playing on your speakers which is interrupted by a call.

“Good afternoon Miss Y/L/N, are you ready for today?” One of your friends greets you with a chipper tone in her voice, you could practically see the beaming smile on her face just from her voice.

Biting on your bottom lip, you let the phone rest on your lap as you continue with the next section of hair and shyly admit, “I’m actually nervous…”

The way she coos at you makes you roll your eyes but there’s a wave of consolation that comes over you when she says, “Good but also don’t be. He’s an absolute dream.”

The tiny piece of information actually makes you more curious about who he is, so you try your chances again as you ask, “Are you finally gonna tell me who it is?”

You had been trying all week to get anything out of your friends but they had been surprisingly good at keeping this one secret under a lock. And this time wouldn’t be different since you only get a vague, “All you have to know is that he’s fit and I know you’ll get on with him perfectly well.”

At least the reassurance that you and him would get on well eases your nerves a little. Not as much as you would like though, but that’s because you know yourself and when you first meet anyone, you get shy and a bit awkward, so you’re praying that you'll be able to get a bit of courage not to make a fool out of yourself.

Thankfully your friend stays on the phone with you as you finish doing your hair and you actually facetime her when you’re doing your makeup. She keeps making you laugh throughout it all and somehow makes you forget about how tense you had been for a bit.

Her boyfriend, Matty, comes back to her flat from a meeting right as you’re showing your friend the dress you’re wearing for the date and, to her dismay, he almost slips and tells you who it is that you’re seeing in merely an hour from now.

“Matthew!” She exclaims loudly before the name can fall from his lips and he quickly throws his hand over his mouth with wide eyes.

His honest, “I’m so sorry.” sounds muffled behind his hand and it only gets an eye roll from your friend which makes you laugh.

But you are gutted that your only chance to find out is gone that way. You whine as you complain, “Why do you react so quickly?”

Your friend takes her boyfriend’s close mishap as a sign to let you go though, completely ignoring your complaint to remind you, “You’re gonna have to get faster Miss, it’s quarter past three and it’s a twenty five minute walk over there.”

“Shit, right.” You curse under your breath, realizing you need to get dressed already and leave as soon as you can so you aren't late.

“You look fucking stunning, babe.” She states with confidence, reassuring you since you seem to start growing panicky, “I’m gonna leave you now so you can change but you have the best time Y/N/N, alright?”

You purse your lips at the camera and clutch your chest, “Thanks hun, love you.”

She grins sweetly at you and reciprocates, “Love you too. And let me know how it goes, alright?”

“Will do, but I don’t promise anything too interesting.” You make sure to make that point clear, you don’t have much expectations for the date just so you don’t end up feeling defeated for it not meeting whatever you could imagine it to be if you allowed yourself to.

But your friend is in heavy doubt of it not being interesting considering she knows who you are meeting with. So she shrugs as she smirks, “Yeah, well… We shall see about that.”

It’s the way that she looks like she’s trying not to laugh that has you narrowing your eyes at her, “What?”

Question that isn’t answered because she plays dumb and simply says, “Okay byeee! Love you!” loudly, blowing you a kiss before hanging up the phone.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

You walk the best you can in your high heeled boots which were not a great pick when mixed with how nervous you are and how far you had to walk. You had debated getting a taxi when you were locking up your flat but decided against it when you realized that if you did, you’d get there quicker and you wanted to stall as much as you could.

You aren’t even late yet, ten minutes left for the clocks to strike four in the afternoon and you are merely five minutes away. The whole walk, you had been practicing in your head whatever you could say to the guy you were meeting with, just to prevent embarrassing yourself. If anything went wrong though, you had brought your camera with you and a few rolls were stuffed in your pocket so that you could at least take the opportunity to take pictures.

In your head, you had gone from any topics you could come up with about yourself, deciding against being the one to mention your tragic love life and picking a few questions that could be interesting to ask your date.

But all the inquiries and words you had been rehearsing die in your throat when you round the corner at the end of the restaurant’s street and you see the tall dirty blonde smoking a cigarette, leaning on a lamppost right by the entrance of the establishment.

You think of making a run back to your building, hesitating which way would be easiest to go and how it would work with your long dress but his eyes fall on you before you can make up your mind and when he smiles sweetly at you, cigarette perched between his lips, you know it’s too late.

On your face a shy smile breaks and you give him a little wave before approaching him, faking confidence as you get closer until he’s only a few feet away so you say, “Oh hi, I wasn’t expecting you.”

Your face is burning up and you know he can see your flustered demeanor because he smirks down at you, and cheekily asks, “Were you hoping for someone else?”

Looking up at him through your lashes, you smile harder at his playfulness and in a rush of bravery you choose to play along, “Do you really want to know the answer?”

He takes a drag of his cigarette and lets the smoke out steadily as he shakes his head, “I’m just hoping you remember my name.”

And how could you forget, “Of course I remember you, George.”

George hums, taking one last drag of his smoke as he takes in your appearance and he’s grinning mischievously when seeing the dark satin and lace of your dress contrasting on your skin, your leather jacket making you look even more stunning and coincidentally matching the one he’s wearing.

“Glad you haven’t, Y/N.” The drummer replies with a wink, dropping the bud on the ground and stepping on it before taking something out of the pocket of his dark jeans, “Y/F/N sent this for you.”

An involuntary “Oh.” falls from your lips, entirely intrigued by what it can be that your friend had wanted to tell you that couldn’t be said on the phone because George hands you a folded piece of paper that only says Y/N/N x on the front.

You carefully open it, trying your best to avoid George seeing it—which is a bit of an issue since he’s so tall he can easily read if he looks down—and you instantly blush harder when you read Get the nice kind of messy ;) x

A flashback of the moment at Glastonbury when you had been gawking at George and you had let slip how fit you found him comes to the forefront of your mind and you can’t help yourself getting a little flustered at the mere thought of it.

“He’s fit as fuck.” Your eyes are unable to move from his figure, the way his muscles contract and define with every hit of the drums and the facial expressions he makes as he plays.

Your friend snorts in laughter and leans in to ask further, “Oh, so you fancy George then?”

You stutter as you try to come up with a response, “I mean… Look at him!” You’re entirely entranced by it all and it doesn’t help that he’s covered in a thin coat of sweat already, only three songs into their set, so his white top is slowly becoming translucent and sticking to his body.

It’s like your brain is shutting down and all that it can register is the look of the drummer because it takes you a few long seconds to realize your friend has teasingly said, “I’ll make sure to relay that message.”

“Oh, no, don’t.” The panic of that happening is the one thing that helps you snap out of your trance.

You watch as your friend’s face contorts in confusion and she fights your answer, “Why?! You need to get back out there and who better than George?”

But you shake your head, “No, that’d be so messy!” You can’t think of anything worse than trying to get with your friend’s boyfriend’s best friend—you cringe just imagining how that going wrong would cause a horrendous change in the group’s dynamic.

All of your worries come to a halt and you choke on your own spit when your friend smirks as her eyes fall on George, “That’d be messy, alright. The nice kind of messy.”

In an attempt to try and play it cool, you fold the note and shove it in one of the pockets of your leather jacket, clearing your throat, adjusting the strap of your camera on your shoulder and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear like it’s all fine and normal.

But George can see the way you’re pursing your lips and how you hid the note so hastily so your behavior completely betrays your attempts to be secretive about it. “What did you say?” He kept his promise that he wouldn’t open the note when Matty gave it to him earlier that day, even though he’s been really tempted too, especially when he realized Matty knew what it said because he was giggling when his girlfriend handed it to him.

You don’t give him an answer though, only a little cough that acts as a coverup of you avoiding his gaze and a subtle shrug, “Just a little joke.”

“Can you share?” He tries further, his hand coming to nudge you softly in the arm.

Not even that helps your answer change. You shake your head and say a shy, “Not really.”

“I see how it is.” George narrows his eyes at you and adds, “S’alright, I’ll remember that.” which is a promise that has you biting your tongue.

“Shall we go inside?” The drummer says then, watching you struggling to come up with a response to his previous statement.

The new question is much easier to reply to, a soft “Yes.” falling from your lips, breathlessly.

And he takes your breath even more when he lets you walk ahead, only to rest his hand on your lower back delicately and casually comment, “You look beautiful by the way. Really like that we’re matching with the leather jackets.”

The opportunity to not acknowledge the compliment is perfect because you feel like you’re going to explode under George’s attention. You giggle and nod, “What a great coincidence huh?”

His answer being, “Hot coincidence.” accompanied by a wink doesn’t make it easy for you though and you find out then that being on a date with George Daniel means blushing every five minutes even if the chat is about mundane topics.

You talk about your hometowns and the differences between your upbringings, how different it was that you’d stayed in the same city for your entire life while he lived moving around for a good part of his childhood until his family settled in Manchester. You tell each other how you had ended up doing what you were doing currently and you end up cooing constantly when George tells you how the guys became friends and how the band had come together. You exchange stories about your jobs, finally having the opportunity to ask all that came to your mind about producing music which you had always found fascinating ever since you’d gotten closer to the band. George being fascinated about your knowledge on films and everything to do with photography and cinematography, which really comes with your job as a photographer and videographer.

Then he asks about your hand tattoo—the ‘Pure Desire’ written on the back of your hand is rather enticing—smirking when he rubs his thumb over it and asks if you have any more which ends up in you both sharing the amount of ink you have on your bodies which George beat you to by an incredible amount. You end up taking your jackets off and showing each other each piece you have on your skin.

Eventually, the chat comes back to the band and you ask him whereabouts The 1975 has toured so far. Your jaw drops the more his list continues and you genuinely have a hard time wrapping your head around them being relatively new to the mainstream scene when they are already going to all those places.

“I don’t even remember the last time I went on holiday, fucking hell.” You chuckle out in awe at the information he’s just given you.

And George turns your innocent amusement into a mess of heated cheeks, pressed lips and eye rolls when he suggests how that could be easily fixed, “We just have to take you on tour with us next time, don’t we?”

“Think it’ll be crowded enough now that Matty is taking Y/F/N with him.” Your eyebrows are raised to accentuate how serious you are trying to be about it, it’s so hard to conceal how flustered you are at his insinuation.

But he makes it difficult for you to play it cool when he shrugs, “We can share a bunk then.”

“You’re such a flirt. Bet you say that to all the girls.” It almost sounds like you’re scolding him and he likes seeing the reactions he can get out of you, but there’s one thing that has been constant in the back of his mind and he decides to bring it up.

Taking his glass up to his lips, he takes a sip and gulps softly to start saying, “Surprised me when Y/F/N called me and asked if I wanted to go on a date with you.”

“God, that’s embarrassing.” You wince at the information, hating the way it looks for your friends to be asking people around if they want to go out with you. It makes you want to crawl out of your skin and die in a ditch.

George smirks playfully, “Going on a date with me?”

You laugh in response to that, shaking your head before clearing up, “Y/F/N asking if you wanted to go out with me. You know you could’ve said no.”

He frowns at you, like you’ve just said the most outrageous thing and he wholeheartedly asks, “But why would I?”

“Oh George, stop it.” You warn him, pursing your lips and narrowing your eyes at him.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” George reaches his hand out to touch yours and you almost shiver under it.

You let your fork down beside your plate and fan yourself with your hand as you admit, “You’re making me blush.”

But that’s not something that will keep him quiet, because he confesses, “Yeah and I quite enjoy doing it.”

The rest of the date is spent between good food, good wine, laughter, a picture you take of George when he asks about your camera, and chatter that has been really entertaining and entirely not awkward like you’d been expecting. Getting to know George in a deeper way is like a breath of fresh air and that’s why, when you leave the restaurant and the drummer offers to walk you back home, you don’t even hesitate to accept.

He takes a few detours on the way, taking you around places where he had hilarious and very wholesome stories of his childhood and teenage years when he would come around to London with the lads and other friends just to mess about. You’re so grateful for the anecdotes because you’re making sure to capture each place in its unique beauty and you know now that behind each shot you’d have the memory of what George had shared with you.

George watches you closely every time you take a picture, taking in every little thing you do before and after you press the shutter. You’re so adorable to him, the way your face lights up when you press the shutter and look at him excitedly when you roll the film.

You guide the both of you back to the way to your flat and as you walk, you’re smoking cigarettes and chatting. It’s so easy to carry a conversation with George, he exudes such an energy that just makes you feel free talking about whatever comes to your mind without having to think for a split second about what you should say or shouldn’t.

And just as easy comes laughter, because not only is his laugh hilariously contagious, he is funny himself and he has you struggling to catch your breath multiple times at his quips and comments.

There is something about this evening that you just feel the need to remember as best as you can so he catches you sneakily trying to take candids of him, every time he’s called you out on it and you shamelessly lie about the frame being focused on just what was behind him—every time something mundane and boring—but by the fifth time, instead of calling you out and have you grumpily change the focus of your lenses, he allows you to take a picture of him and even smiles for you; he doesn’t miss how your eyes twinkle after you’ve pressed the shutter.

The way you smile to yourself and proudly state, “I’m really gonna like that one.” makes George’s chest swell and in a lack of any more self control, he stops dead in his tracks and turns to you, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you into him, your chest hitting his chest eliciting a gasp to fall from your lips.

“Oh hi.” You giggle at the sudden action, your hands subconsciously resting on his chest after that, but any other words die in your throat when he dips his head and traps your lips with his.

You hum into the kiss, which is a dizzying combination between sweet and determined. His left arm stays wrapped around your waist, pulling your flush into his chest but the other one comes up to cup your jaw and he keeps you at the perfect angle for him to kiss you just how he wants.

Your arms slowly move up until they are wrapped around the back of his neck and you let your fingers tangle in his hair. It’s soft and long on the top of his head which you really like. His tongue brushes against your bottom lip, his fingers clutching your tighter and you let your mouth open so you can taste each other.

You completely forget where you are until someone walks past you and whistles at the two of you, startling you out of the kiss. You really enjoyed that kiss, and it shows in the way you look up at George with burning cheeks and something written on your face.

“I liked that.” George cheekily states, getting ahold of your hand and resuming your walk.

You hum, trying not to giggle when he intertwines your fingers and a feeling you can easily recognize starts bubbling inside you. “Yeah, I liked that too.”

You felt like a teenager. Blushing to yourself while you walked hand in hand with the person you had a crush on, and it’s so ridiculous but so relieving at the same time to feel this kind of pathetic elation instead of despair and heartache for once.

Your conversation resumed from whichever point you last remember it being left at but after that kiss it only gets more and more flirty, and you like where it is going but soon enough you reach your building and you have to slowly come to a stop with a pout.

“This is me.” You mumble, squeezing his hand in yours but he doesn’t let go.

He hums as if hesitant of believing what you’ve just said and instead he suggests, “Don’t you wanna take another walk around the block?”

“George, my feet hurt.” They had been hurting for a while but you hadn’t said anything just to not ruin things, and because you were enjoying his company so much that you were willing to endure the pain for a while longer.

The drummer comes to a quick solution, “I’ll carry you.”

Which makes you chuckle, “Sure you would.” You genuinely don’t want the date to end so in a bit of a rushed decision, you bargain, “Don’t you… Do you wanna come upstairs?”

He gets a kick of excitement inside him but he wants to play it cool, so he jokes, “What, are you gonna take my picture?”

You hold back a snort of laughter, and shrug as if it was fine by you that he only wanted that. “If that’s what you want.” There’s a little voice in your head that tells you not to but there is another one that purely encourages you to have fun.

“Yeah, that works.” George casually says, like he isn’t praying that he gets lucky to even get another kiss out of you.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

“Where’d you want me?” George turns to look at you as you drop your camera on your bedside tables and take your jacket off to perch on the back of a loveseat you have in the corner of your room.

You take one of the new rolls out of your pocket and change it for the one you’d almost fully used earlier that day. “Wherever you’re comfortable.” you tell him, focusing on perfectly lining the roll before you can turn to him.

“Bed’s quite comfy.'' You hear George say from behind you and when you look up to see him, you find him lying on his side, head perched on his hand and a smirk on his face. “Paint me like one of your french girls.” He teases, resting his other hand dramatically on his forehead.

All you do is giggle at his antics, “You’re such an idiot.” Shaking your head, you come up to the bed and try looking at the scene through your lenses but you aren't quite convinced by the shot.

George watches you struggle, stepping backwards and forwards, to the sides before sighing. He reminds you with a soft smile, “I’m not used to being the one to pose for the camera. You’re gonna have to guide me.”

“Okay.” Silently, you think about it as you bite on your thumb and once a vision comes to your mind, you start instructing him, “Lean into your forearms, sideways so you fit in the bed.” But you find what’s bothering you and it’s that his legs are half hanging off the bed.

“Why are you so tall? Oh my god.” You go over to the drummer and prompt him to go further into the bed, perching one of his sock-clad feet up on the bed and the other leg staying stretched on the bed. “There, now look at me.”

George looks at you with a blank face first to which you complain about but when he actually shows you a smile he starts giggling, and if there had been something you had learned about George quite early into your date was that his laugh was incredibly contagious, so you find yourself shaking with laughter as you try to take his pictures and you end up having to call him out for it.

“Don’t laugh! You’re making me laugh!” You scorn him, struggling to sound serious between your giggles.

“Sorry, sorry.” He apologizes halfheartedly, swallowing his laughter until he goes back to a stoic face and he gives you the perfect soft smolder.

You hum in satisfaction at the result of that frame and then you move onto instructing him to do the next pose, “Throw your head back a bit and close your eyes.” He silently listens and does as you say which earns him a sweet, “Just like that.” from you.

Of course, your words make George give you a look, one that had you lightly blushing and since you know he can recognize the way you get flustered, you hide behind your camera.

“What?” You say behind the device, inquiry thrown out into the air, and warn him, “Don’t look at me like that.”

George chuckles to himself, wondering if you are this naive or if you are playing dumb. So when you take another picture of him, he purposely complains, “My leg’s cramping.” to then throw himself back on the bed, ending up completely splayed over the duvet and breaking the pose.

“George!” You scold him yet again, a bit of amusement sneaking through your words.

He groans in response and without moving, tells you to “Just take a picture like this.”

You kiss your teeth to exaggerate your disapproval and shake your head, “I can’t even see your face.”

“Come here so you can see it.” He resolves easily for you, waving you over to come close to the side of the bed instead of taking pictures by the end of it. You roll your eyes at him in amusement, not moving at first but since he actually doesn’t plan on moving, you have to do as he says.

But attempting to get a picture from above while standing beside the bed is an actual failure, “That’s an awkward angle, look at me.” You try to get him to turn to his side again but he closes his eyes and shakes his head. “Need you on your side.” You say explicitly this time but he doesn’t let up either.

Instead he suggests, “Why don’t you just get up here?” He pats the bed, right next to his hip and you blush just thinking about it. At your silence, he opens his eyes and turns his head to the side to encourage you with a “C’mon.”

He offers his hand so you can use it as leverage to kneel on the bed on each side of his hips and hover above him. You struggle as you do so because you’re growing nervous and therefore clumsy.

“Fucking hell, George.” You curse under your breath, seeing him from above is an angle that you don’t really know if you can handle.

“What?” George bites his bottom lip to not let a smirk break on his face.

Yet, not even that keeps you from knowing that he knows just what he was doing but you won’t say anything, because you’re enjoying this a lot more than you are supposed to. So you stick to just replying, “Nothing.” as you take yet another picture of him.

Remembering his tattoos, you bit your bottom lip for a few seconds before hesitatingly asking, “Why don’t you take your jacket off?”

George lets his hands rest right above your knees and squeezes your legs as he teases, “Is that code for something?”

You hoped your flustered state wasn’t obvious so you can play off your nonchalant, “For ‘I want to see your tattoos’, yes.”

It goes right over his head though, because he keeps smirking as he sarcastically replies, “Right, right.”

You move so he can take the piece of clothing off without you hovering over him but when he’s done and laying on the bed again, he pats his right side so you can move your left leg there and have you hover over him properly again.

“How’s that look?” He asks cheekily as his hands go to touch your legs again, the skin up to your mid thighs showing because your dress slit allows it to open and rise up in the position you’re in.

“Amazing.” You breathlessly compliment, making him raise an eyebrow at you.

The shutter goes off again and, as you roll the film, he tests the waters, “Do you want to see them all?”

“Sure.” The word comes out so soft it could’ve gone with the wind, his hands leave your thighs for a second to grab the bottom of his shirt.

“Top’s coming off next then, is that alright?” He asks for confirmation first and you nod eagerly, your pupils dilating in anticipation.

He sheds himself off his shirt in the constricted space he had, you’re so spaced out that you don’t move but it isn’t a problem for George. If anything, his smirk grows at your inability to act and it gets bigger when he throws his shirt somewhere across the room and you’re left shamelessly gawking at his naked top half.

After a minute of your eyes wandering everywhere, George brings your back to reality by letting his hands come over your thighs again. You tremble at the same time as the drummer says, “Y/N/N?”

“Yeah?” You ask, slowly coming back to reality. Your brain has been completely taken over by the view of the taut muscles of his arms littered by colorful ink, a pair of symmetric ‘broken’ tattoos on both sides of his collarbones and his torso beautifully chiseled with a defined six pack.

“When are you taking the picture?” He reminds you, trying not to smirk too hard as to not put you off.

“Shit, sorry.” You say under your breath and, after quickly focusing the shot, finally take a picture of him like that.

There was a heavy silence that hung over you two, the trail of his fingers making your skin grow hot and your throat going dry at the growing need for anything at all. So you find yourself surprised when he breaks the silence to ask you, “Can I take your picture?”

“Mine?” You repeated like you’d heard wrong.

George nods and lets you know, “You look really pretty from here.”

In a feeble attempt not to have him do that, you remind him, “You don’t know how to.”

“Matty had a film camera a few years ago, I know how to.” George surprises you even further when he explains and just to try a bit harder, he pouts at you and says, almost begging, “Please?”

“Okay.” You let yourself accept, your mind too distracted by the view beneath you to even fight.

Once you hand him the camera, he lifts it up to his eyes and lets out a chipper, “Smile.” as an instruction, which you follow only just a bit shyly.

You’re about to get the device back from him when he pulls it away from your grasp and pleads, “Another one please?”

You sigh at the drummer’s exaggerated pout until it turns into a giggle and that’s when the shutter goes off. Your cheeks burn again when he compliments as he rolls the film, “Stunning.”

Letting the camera rest beside him, George tries his luck and lets his hands rub on the skin of your thighs a bit further up. You don’t refuse it, he can clearly see the growing hunger in your eyes as you look down at him so he continues, letting his gaze trail down your body to drink in all of your but when he reaches down to your legs is when he catches a slight glimpse of red ink on your left thigh that makes him ask, “Do you have more tattoos?”

He doesn’t remember your mentioning any other tattoos than the ones you’d shown him at the restaurant. So when you nod, he can’t help but ask, “Where?”

“One, right here.” You grab his right hand so he can touch over the fabric of your dress where the one on your rib is. Your eyes looking right into his and his lips opening further when you continue, “And this one here.” lifting the fabric up to show the ‘Divine Feminine’ tattoo on your thigh.

George lets his right hand fall until it reaches the one on your thigh, you’re still clutching the satin in your first so he can fully see it. He rubs on the red ink on your skin as he stares at it, eliciting goosebumps to break on your entire body.

He looks up and asks with a low voice about the only one he hasn’t seen yet but you had just let him touch over your dress, “What’s the other one?”

“A word.” You vaguely say, as if encouraging him to continue asking about it.

“Which word?” His fingers trail further up, making your knees go completely weak. They had been hurting from hovering over him for so long but his touch is the thing to finally have you finally sit on his lap.

And that’s when you feel him growing hard in his jeans.

His fingers had already been making your every thought go straight down to your core so you’re entirely driven by lust when you fully lift the satin up and shed the dress off your body, leaving you only in your underwear and in full show for George.

It’s involuntary, his hips jerking forward and pressing on your center, his mouth agape at the sight and he grows even more breathless when you roll your center against his hardening cock.

“Fuck.” He curses under his breath, taking one quick look at the strange word on your rib before perching himself up on his left forearm to wrap his right hand around your neck and pull you in for a hungry kiss.

You lean further into him, one arm wrapping around his shoulders and digging into his hair to pull on it as your lips move with each other. Your fingers tugging on his hair made him groan into your mouth and, as payback, he tightens his fingers around your neck, earning a loud moan out of you.

George pushes himself up with his left hand until he’s sitting on the bed, his right arm wrapping around your waist to keep you flush against him. Your tongues taste each other and your breaths grow heavy when you start rolling your hips in sync, meeting in the middle and creating a delicious friction that soon enough forces you to break the kiss only to gasp in pleasure into each other's mouths.

His fingers come to graze the ink on your left rib, your desperate side having you sink your hips down to roll against him and turn his, “What does it mean?” into a gorgeous moan.

Your lips brush as he moans and you respond to his sound with a mewl of your own and when that reaches his ears, George forgets ever asking anything for he can’t wait any longer to feel your lips on his again.

The kiss grows needy then. His hand goes from your ribs down to knead the flesh of your ass, fingers harshly digging into your skin and encouraging you to move against him. Your clit was getting so stimulated from only being covered by the thin material of your lace thong against his jeans which means you can’t kiss him any longer.

A string of moans falls from you as you quicken your pace, getting louder as you go but your actions are interrupted when George clutches you tightly by your middle and swiftly flips the two of you around so it you’re resting on your back on the bed with him hovering right over you.

Your breath hitches in your throat at the sudden change of positions, your hand flying to cup his face and bring his lips back on yours and wrapping your legs around his waist to pull his hips into your core in a desperate attempt to have the friction back.

The feeling of his hard on coming down to rub harshly against you every time he bucks his hips forward makes your head spin. He starts off by teasing you with the friction and leaving you hanging for a few seconds before going back in but when you start gasping into his mouth, he keeps himself close to you and relentlessly rolls his hips on yours, hard cock pressing deliciously against your throbbing clit.

The pace grows faster, making it impossible for you to continue moving your lips with his so he takes it as a sign to continue on with what he wants to do first. Unfortunately, that means his hips stop moving and leave you throbbing and clenching around nothing but he makes it up to you with his lips all over your skin.

Wet kisses trail down your neck, his lips taking their time to give every bit of your skin attention on the way down. Kissing, sucking, licking. His fingers run down your sides until they clutch tightly on your hips, fingers pressing hard on the skin there and making your cry out in pleasure even louder.

Your breath is heavy by the time he stops sucking bruises all over your chest and abdomen, your fingers tangling in his hair and tugging on it so he can come back up but instead his tongue runs flat from just above your belly button agonizingly slowly up until his nose bumps against the hem of your bra.

George looks up at you through his lashes, teeth coming to bite on the fabric and tugging them the slightest bit down so you know what he wants to do and you desperately nod.

Without much of a proper attempt to take the piece of clothing off, he just tugs down the lace cups on it and lets your tits spill out freely for him. He groans from the pits of his chest at the sight, hips bucking forwards into the mattress harshly in search of some relief for himself.

But not letting any more seconds go by, George dives to suck one of your nipples into his mouth. Groaning around it, the vibrations of the noise causing white heat to run straight down to your throbbing wet cunt.

He switches the sucking for flicking it with his tongue, blowing cold air and smirking as your nipple hardens at his actions, ending with a soft bite and tug that have you loudly saying his name in call for mercy.

You needed something, anything. You can feel yourself clenching around nothing and it’s almost torturous. But your cries fall on deaf ears for he moves onto your other nipple and repeats his process. You’re only ruining your underwear further, so wet you feel uncomfortably sticky with your thong still on.

“George, baby, please–” You plead in anguish when he starts sucking bruises on your tits, biting them until you whimper loudly under him.

“What do you need Y/N/N?” He asks sweetly, a stark contrast to his vicious attack on your chest.

“Anything. Just–” You try to say, your words catching up in your throat as your desperation for release clouds your logic and makes you sound stupid.

So you rely on grabbing one of his hands from your hips and guiding it down to where you’re aching. The simple graze of one of his fingertips on your swollen clit eliciting a pathetic mewl out of you.

“Oh sweetheart,” George tuts “Made quite a mess, haven’t you?” His pointer finger runs up and down your clothed core slowly and so faintly you don’t even know if you are imagining it.

Applying a bit more pressure assures him to hear every one of your needy sounds and feeling like you had waited enough, he leaves a light feather kiss over your center.

“Need help cleaning up this mess, yeah?” His words are sweet, like he’s finally taking pity on you. The thought of him doing absolutely anything at that moment sounds so fucking good your hum in agreement sounds more like a whine, barely able to make eye contact with him in your hazy mind.

His long tongue runs flat over your underwear, wetting even more than it already is and he moans at the taste of your slick soaking through it. His fingers tug the fabric down your legs and throw it somewhere behind him in record time. He finds himself almost drooling at the sight of you completely exposed to him.

If you had any hint of inhibitions left in you, you would’ve tried to close your legs under his attentive gaze but he’s entranced and you’d had it with waiting any longer so you prop your legs wide open and squirm in your place.

“George, please.”

Your pleading is so sweet, so desperate, he can’t deny you any longer. So he dips his head in between your legs and starts lapping at you like a starved man. At the first proper taste he has of you, he moans loudly, tongue running up and down your slit to gather as much of you as he can and enjoying every drop of your arousal on his tongue.

“Are you not gonna continue taking my picture?” George interrupts his task to tauntingly ask, going back to using his tongue on you, this time flicking it up and down quickly on your clit and making you shiver.

Your words are caught in your throat when he doesn’t relent his actions but still looks at you expectantly through his lashes, “Right– F-fuck! Right now?”

He only allows himself to stop for the amount of seconds it takes him to nod and say, “Yes baby, be a good girl and take my picture.”

That ‘good girl’ makes you roll your eyes in utter pleasure, and all you can think of is doing as he’s telling you to earn his praise; because you want more, you need more.

Your head turns quickly to see where he’s left the camera, and you bring it to your eyes to take a picture as fast as you can. Your thoughts are already becoming clouded by the tightening coil in your lower belly.

His disheveled dirty blonde hair in between your legs, his arms underneath your legs and hands clutching your thighs in place is all that you captured in that frame. The shutter goes off letting George know you have done as he’d said and he congratulates you by praising you with a proud, “Such a good fucking girl.” and a few kisses to your clit which make you jolt.

He goes back down, trying to clean up the mess of slick and saliva that’s dripping down your inner thighs and onto the duvet, but you’re so desperate so you start rocking your hips against his face, trying to steer him back to where you wanted him to be and, to your satisfaction, he follows the silent instruction by going back to your center and this time pointing his tongue and dipping it inside your sopping hole.

Your legs instinctively close around his head, eliciting a breathy laugh from him that hits your core as he continues tongue fucking you. His hands come to spread your legs open again, holding your limbs down on the bed strongly, not allowing you to move any longer.

The feeling of his wet tongue dipping in and out of you has you growing increasingly louder, begging and pleading with him not to stop, your orgasm so close you can feel it.

But despite your words, he stops.

At that very moment, you swear you can cry, knowing you had just been about to come undone on his tongue. But just before you can pathetically let your frustrated tears roll down your cheeks, his lips wrap around your throbbing clit and he sucks on it. The perfect amount of pressure for you to thrash around beneath him as your pleasure resumes and hits you with an incredible force, making you let out a string of moans of his name and then a bunch of “Yes! Fuck yes!”, hands flying down to tangle your fingers in his hair and keep him in his place.

“I’m gonna cum!” You yell out loud, eyes shutting tightly since the pleasure impedes you from keeping them open, and when George starts humming as he sucks your clit, you are done for.

Your legs tremble under his hold, toes curling and your fingers tugging his hair tighter than you had been before. You black out as your orgasm hits you hard, the oxygen in your lungs leaving you entirely as your back arches off the bed and you only come back from your high when his incessant sucking becomes too much for your oversensitive self so you pull him away from you.

He giggles, completely entranced by your fucked out state. Watching you cum had been an experience but god don’t you look beautiful with your chest heaving, bruises looming on your skin, a flush to your face and chest, a thin coat of sweat making your body and face shine.

But before he can give you any more attention, his gaze falls back to your cunt and it’s glistening with arousal. You taste so fucking good to him that he wastes no more time to lick you clean. Your legs tremble at the resumed contact of his tongue on your sensitive core, whimpers stubbornly leaving you as he goes.

Your fingers leave his hair alone but your left hand cradles his head as he laps up at everything you have given him, and after a whole minute of him meticulously licking clean every inch of skin that had been wet with your arousal, he starts a trail of kisses from your mound until he reaches your belly button.

Flashing a smile up at you, George rests his chin on your lower stomach and you can’t hold yourself back from brushing his messy hair back almost adoringly, post orgasm haze making you extra appreciative of him and his skilled tongue work.

His fingers rub circles on the top of your thighs, “Feel good?” He asks before leaving more soft kisses on your lower stomach.

“Very.” You answered with a smile, fingers brushing through his hair.

He hums at the feeling of your touch, “Good to know, gorgeous.”

Turning to see where you’d left it, you reach out to grab your discarded camera. Melting into the duvet under George’s gentle touch and his lips pressing on your skin leisurely, you really make an effort as you lean on your forearms so that you can get a better look at him to take a picture. He looks up at you with a dizzying smirk that you manage to capture, and you know that you’ll adore that picture no matter the outcome of this day.

His lips tickle the skin of your lower stomach when he points out, “Didn’t even have to tell you this time.”

Putting the device back down on the bed, you shrug with a grin sneaking onto your lips, “You look good.”

“Do I, now?” He teases, dropping his hands from your thighs and pressing them on the mattress so he can slowly push himself up and crawl his way up to hover over you again.

“You always do.” Your words come laced with lust, his eyes darkening as he gets closer and you just can’t wait any longer to have him in more ways. “Come here.” You instruct by wrapping a hand around his neck, fingers pressing on the sides of it until he groans loudly in pleasure and when he lets the sound leave his lips, you smirk and warn, “My turn.”

Pulling him in by his neck means that your tongues meet instantly when you start the kiss, and when you taste yourself on his tongue, you moan so loudly George growls just as loud in response.

The kiss is all teeth clashing, spit dribbling down to your chins, noses bumping, deep exhales sounding loudly and trying to overpower the sounds of your swollen lips moving together.

It’s George the one to grow louder when your hand drops from his neck, down his naked torso to the button of his jeans, which you undo with quick fingers and pull the zip down before you can palm him over the fabric of his boxers.

“F-fuck…” He lets out when your nimble fingers squeeze him and stroke him up and down. He’s so hard that your touch makes him shiver.

You can feel him so swollen and heavy under your hand, your mind already spinning about how big he is but you want to have him unravel under you so badly, you push any worries about his size to the back of your head.

His hips move slowly, helping with your movements, clearly wanting to reach his high but you want to taste him and you want it now. So you leave his cock alone to instruct him, “Lay down, baby.”

You switch positions, George laying on his back and you’re kneeling between his legs. He pants as he watches you shamelessly gawk at him, your mouth going dry at the clear outline of his cock.

“Fucking hell, George.” You curse as you tug on the top of his jeans so he can lift his hips up for you to take them off him.

He does as instructed and you’re just too impatient to wait any more, you want to feel him heavy on your tongue already. His boxers come off quickly after his jeans, his hard cock springing up to touch right by his navel.

You gulp. He’s thick, angry red tip already leaking from how aroused he is. Intimidating but so inviting.

Dipping your head down, you start kissing his hips. Leaving kisses that go from sweet to wet and messy the more he squirmed under you.

“You…” George pleads, hand coming down to cradle your head. Not to push it towards where he wanted you but to have you look up at him and see just how fucking desperate he is for you.

You feel that look go down straight to your core, clenching your legs together at the feeling. “I know baby, I know.” You say in a coo.

Your fingers wrap around him, the pressure of them making George huff in pleasure with his lips pressed together. He feels so heavy in your hand, veins popping for you to see how pained he is.

“You’re so big.” You trail off, a bit of wander in your voice. You have no idea how he’s going to fit in your mouth, he’s by far the biggest cock you have ever come across but you like a challenge.

Your tongue licks a bold strip from base to tip, eyes rolling to the back of your head when you taste the salty arousal that has already been leaking from him. He curses under his breath at the feeling of your wet tongue on his cock, but the breathy words turn into a loud moan when you wrap your lips around him and sink your mouth down onto him.

Barely able to fit half of him in your mouth until he hits the back of your throat, you pull back to catch a breath, your hand taking over for a few seconds as you inhale deeply and go back in. You gag around him when you manage to get him deeper, George moans loudly as you do so, trying his hardest not to buck his hips upwards into your tight throat.

His hand goes back to hold your head but this time, his fingers tangle in your hair, only to pull you up so you can breathe. But you don’t want to have it easy, you want to see how much of him you can take and hear every one of his pretty moans.

So you go against his hold, sinking your mouth further down and gagging around him again. Your hand stays at the base of his cock, stroking the rest you can’t get to, as you continue bobbing your head up and down on him.

George is a mess of groans and moans, whimpering whenever you gag and moan around him, your throat tightening around him driving him insane.

He lifts his head up slightly to look down at you, pulling on your hair so you come off him and meet his eyes. George is met with you panting, pink wet swollen lips, saliva dripping down your chin and neck, tears falling out of the corner of your eyes, hair disheveled but pupils dilated and a satisfied smirk at it all.

Your hand keep stroking him up and down, fingers applying the perfect amount of pressure and he moans at the combination of your touch and the glorious view of you like this, “Fuck, you’re so fucking perfect.”

The praise only encourages you more, so you lean back down and lick a strip up his cock again, this time looking up at him through your lashes. An innocent look in your eyes as you lap at the tip of his cock eagerly.

He exhales in awe, “Look at you– Shit!” He curses loudly when you sink slowly back down until again he reaches your throat, his hips bucking upwards involuntarily and making you gag loudly.

You gasp out for air for a mere second before you do it again, until you manage to control your gagging a bit better and encourage George to fuck your mouth with a simple squeeze to his hip.

“Oh fuck– Such a pretty filthy girl.” He praises as he obeys the silent instructions and rocks his hips forwards slowly and ever so slightly. “You like it when I fuck your throat?” His question is thrown out into the air in between groans.

You answer with a hum that vibrates around him and that’s when George starts feeling like he’s losing control. His hips grow erratic and you notice so you hum and moan around him even more, causing him to get closer to his high.

“Y/N/N m’gonna cum!” He warns you loudly, the wet squelching sounds of him going in and out of your mouth and your moans bouncing off the walls in a pornographic symphony that makes the scene even better.

And when your hand drops from around the base of his cock to play with his balls, he’s sent over the edge. He pushes his hips forwards and stills then as he comes, cock twitching in your mouth and his cum coating the walls of your throat with a warmth you appreciated with another low moan.

His hips fall back on the bed but you don’t relent just yet, sucking him off for a little longer to take everything you can. But he has to pull you off him by your hair when he can't take it anymore, cursing and calling out your name like he was scolding you.

“Fucking hell.” He mumbles, still dizzy from his orgasm but completely entranced by the way you come off him with a whimper and a satisfied smirk.

You wipe the drool off your chin with the back of your hand and slowly crawl up until you are laying on your side right beside him, staring right into his eyes with hunger still darkening yours.

“Feel good?” You ask, just what he’d asked you after he made you cum but in a mocking manner.

It gets you a chuckle in response before one of his big hands comes to cup your jaw and crashes your lips together.

Kissing George has you dazed. His lips are soft but firm when moving along with yours, they’re wet and swollen, warm exhales leaving his parted lips for your to swallow, tongue peeking through them to meet yours. He whimpers so loud when he tastes himself on your tongue, fingers digging into your cheek and making you mewl in response.

Your skin grows hot the more you kiss. He doesn’t even let you get a proper breath whenever he pulls back for a brief second, because he’s back on your mouth with desperation—lips smacking and tongues licking at each other.

Your hands go on a path from his face to his head, the back of his neck, his shoulders, and eventually to his back, nails digging into it when he starts nipping at your bottom lip, at the same time as his right hand drops from your jaw down to pinch your nipples, eliciting gasps out of you.

“George…” You let out in a gasp when he has your nipple pinched and twisted between his thumb and index finger.

He’s smirking right over your parted lips, amused at the way you shiver every time he goes from one nipple to the other. Your nails claw at his back when you feel the electric shocks that his touch gives you travel all the way down to your center, feeling yourself growing wetter and that familiar knot in your lower stomach forming.

His lips slot between yours again, distracting you from his touch going from your tits down to tease your cunt.

With his thumb, George starts rubbing circles on your clit, making you pull back from the kiss with a loud gasp that turns into a cry of pleasure. You could feel yourself throbbing already, and it gets worse when he picks up his pace.

He isn’t going too fast but not slow either, the speed in which his thumb rubs at your clit has you writhing your hips in response, subconsciously trying your best to get closer and closer to your high.

“George! Fuck!” You yell when he slides a finger inside you. It’s thick and long, curling inside you and making you see stars already, half lidded eyes catching him smirking at you and his breaths growing shallow when taking in your reactions.

“You like that?” He asks you teasingly, pecking your lips as your face scrunches up in pleasure.

You manage to hum in response, but he finds that not good enough, so he adds another finger, stretching you out easily and making your back arch as you moan loudly. “Yes! Yes!” You encourage, and when he curls his fingers again, knuckle deep inside your cunt, you felt yourself be completely overcome by pleasure and your words slip past your lips without even thinking of them first, ���Oh my– Fuck! George, your fingers feel so fucking good.”

His fingers are slipping in and out of you with ease from how wet you are, your hips erratically moving as he thrusts them inside you to meet him in the middle. “That’s it, cum on them baby.”

The dirty talk has you completely fucked over, “George, I’m so– Fuckkkk!” You can’t help but scream out when he pushes a third finger inside you, feeling completely stuffed with him.

It feels so good how much he’s opening you up, and he’s loving the way whenever he pulls his fingers back your walls push him off so he has to slowly sink his fingers deep inside your cunt again. “I know, I can feel you clenching hard around them.” You’re squeezing his fingers so tight, his throat goes dry just thinking about how good you’re gonna feel milking his cock, “Can’t wait to fill you up and feel how tight you’re around my cock baby.”

You agree, so drunk in pleasure you just want to feel even more of him, “I need you. George, I need–”

But he tuts before you can complete your mumbled sentence, “You’re cumming on my fingers first.” You’re about to cry out like a brat, about to beg for him to stuff you up with his big cock but his words beat yours, “Come on baby, give it to me like the good girl you are.”

His voice is low in your ear, so sultry and inviting you feel it deep in your core and you just can’t say no. Not when you’re gonna earn his praise, those words he says that have you wrapped around his little finger.

So you let go. Your toes curl as his fingers keep pumping in and out of you, hitting that spot perfectly for your to see stars as you come, white heat enveloping you and taking ahold of your entire body as you cum, “Fuck, fuck! Oh– George!”

“That’s it, baby. So fucking stunning.” He encourages, watching his fingers continue to disappear inside your tightening cunt, your legs shaking and your hips moving clumsily to meet his hand. He gets impossibly hard at the sight of it all, biting his bottom lip as he moans.

You gush all over him, slick drenching his hand and dripping down your cunt onto the duvet. He can’t let it go to waste, so he pulls his fingers out and sucks them clean, moaning around them when he tastes you again.

So fucking sweet. He needed more.

You feel his fingers gathering your mess and you manage to peel your eyes open to watch as he sucks it all off his fingers again.

Shamelessly, you just watch as he dips down time and time again until he deems his work of cleaning you up done, the last one being offered out to you and you obey enthusiastically, wrapping your lips around his fingers and sinking your mouth on them to suck them clean the best you can. Your eyes stay on his as you do so, moaning loudly around them while you batted your lashes at him, just fully putting a show on for him.

The view makes George’s cock twitch, a bead of precum leaking from his head. He reaches out behind you for the forgotten camera and when you’re trying to catch your breath, eyes closed in bliss, he takes a picture of you.

Your eyes snap open at the sound of the shutter going off and you look at him all startled like you need an explanation.

“You’re so beautiful like this.” He quickly justifies, lifting the device back up to his eyes and adjusting the focus to take another one as he adds, “All fucked out. Fucking gorgeous.”

“Stop.” You whine when the shutter goes off again, hand coming up to grab at the lenses and forcing him to put it down, “I must look a mess.”

His head shakes in disagreement, tongue swiping at his bottom lip with his eyes drinking you in all over again, “You don’t. You look hot.” Skin glowing due to the thin layer of sweat your activities have caused, lips swollen and wet, your chest heaving and flushed, the gorgeous pattern of every bruise he’s sucked on your skin which are darkening more and more, hair disheveled and splayed over the pillows.

“I’m confiscating this.” It’s the brief ultimatum you give him, grabbing the camera and turning the action on him instead.

You take just one picture of him and he allows it, only to then complain by saying, “You have enough of me.” and taking the camera back.

Rolling your eyes, you fake being annoyed and kiss him quickly before pushing yourself up and off the bed, telling him, “Gonna go to the bathroom.” making a beeline for your wardrobe and getting yourself a new pair of underwear first, adjusting the cups of your bra so they hold your breasts again.

It isn’t longer than five minutes that you take, coming back to him wearing his boxers again and laying over the bedsheets—he’s discarded the duvet and left it a big crumpled knot on the floor by the foot of the bed—, a hand behind his head whilst the other is scrolling on his phone.

His position looks inviting, so you crawl on the bed and sit on his lap with a mischievous smile on your face. You reach out to get the camera he has placed on the bedside table at the same time as he drops his phone there and his hands go up to hold your hips.

“Put your hands behind your head again.” You instruct him softly, almost a mutter that sounds so shy, the corner of his lips tug into a smirk.

You take a picture of him like that and another when he runs a hand through his hair but you stop when his hands come back to grab at your skin, going from your waist until they softly come down to rest at your hips.

With a soft squeeze on your sides, he tilts his head to ask, “Am I allowed to smoke?” to which you nod and get off him to open the windows and get him a cigarette and a lighter.

Getting back on top of him, you place the cigarette between his lips but before you can give him the lighter, you grab the camera again just so you can capture the moment he ignites it alive.

George looks so fucking hot lighting it up: cheeks hollowing ever so slightly, brows furrowing, long fingers that make the lighter look minuscule in his hand, lips pursed around the stick.

You snap away and capture the moment he blows out the smoke upwards, before taking another drag and then blowing it in your direction.

The familiar scent of the tobacco and just how arousing you’re finding it all, impulses you to start moving your hips slowly on him. The sudden movement makes his breath hitch in his throat, causing him to erupt in coughs when the smoke goes up the wrong hole. He had been half hard beneath you when you sat on his lap, so you can’t really hold back from wanting to have him in a new way now.

That’s when you guide his hand to your mouth so he can place the cigarette in between your lips for you to take a drag. His mouth opens agape as you do so, the rolling of your hips only growing more intent and he starts twitching and getting harder in his boxers.

He can feel your heat, the way you’re wetting your underwear and starting to wet his own, the pulsing of your swollen clit. He can see how your nipples grow hard through the lace of your bra, and the way goosebumps rise in your skin as you go. Soft gasps that turn into hush whimpers that he wants so badly to turn into those loud moans of yours that he’s quite enjoying getting drunk on.

“Have you brought a condom?” You ask breathlessly, camera being once again forgotten somewhere on the bed for you to be able to rest your hands on his chest as leverage.

A flip switches inside George, the simple hint of him finally being able to sink himself deep inside you making his blood rush down to his cock.

“Yeah.” He nods eagerly and it’s a relief when you quickly get off him so he can rush to get it, not without going up to your dresser so he can put out the cigarette on the ashtray that’s laid there by your jewelry.

He had thought it was foolish of him to pocket a couple condoms before he left his flat earlier today, fully scorning himself for being so ridiculous as to assume you would want to shag after your date but oh was he glad he had still done it right then.

Condom in hand, George goes back to the bed but not without shedding himself off his boxers first. You bite your bottom lip as you get your bra off to throw it on the floor behind you, seeing him wrap his hand around his length and pump it slowly as he watches you almost naked figure. Your hands go down to your hips so you can quickly tug down your underwear, eagerly taking it off and throwing it on the same spot on the floor you had dropped your bra.

Crawling up to the edge of the bed, you hum as you watch him stroke himself up and down, your mouth watering for another taste of him. So when you get right in front of him, you dip your head down until your mouth is right before his hardening cock and sticking your tongue out, you lick at his head slowly.

He grows heavier on your tongue as you go, twitching in your mouth when you wrap your lips around him again, his head thrown back at the feeling of your wet mouth enclosed around him and sucking him off patiently.

But he has to use an incredible amount of self restraint to pull you off him, a hand delicately coming around your neck to have you let go off his cock with a pop and pull you up to face him.

“I’m fucking you now.”

George isn’t asking, he’s simply informing you and that makes you squirm under his gaze in anticipation. Thighs pressing together and eyes drinking in the way lust makes his behavior change. But you want a bit of control, even if it’s just for him to ruin you.

“Can I ride you?” You ask innocently, puppy eyes that you pray will get your a yes.

You take the way he pulls you in for a messy kiss as one.

In no time he’s laying on his back with his head resting on the pillows, teeth ripping the condom wrapper open while your hand wraps around him, waiting for him to put the latex on. The anticipation grows and hangs in the air like a heavy cloud as George rolls it down his length, sighing at the feeling of it around him.

You catch a glimpse of your camera through the corner of your eye and you can’t help but think there won’t be a better thing than capturing his pure ecstasy in a picture so you grab it before you straddle him again.

You lift the camera up to your eyes with one hand while the other gets ahold of his cock to line him up, rubbing his head on your clit and making yourself gasp at the feeling. You clench around nothing as you do so, and you can already feel yourself drenched.

Even after he’s stretched you out with his fingers, it’s slightly challenging for you to take him when you start sinking onto him.

Your jaw drops in a silent gasp when every inch of him starts stretching you out, eyes watering at the initial sting. Your eyes want to flutter closed at the feeling but you do your best to not let them close entirely so you can capture the way he groans loudly with his head thrown back as you let your cunt swallow him whole.

Breath hitching in your throat, you sink down completely until you can feel him so deep a pathetic cry of pleasure slips past your lips.

You draw your hips up and back down on him slowly, testing the waters on his size and what angle is good for you to feel the best. You’re both a mess of loud moans at the feeling. He’s so big, he’s filling you up in a way you’ve never felt before so your walls are clenching hard around him which has his head spinning.

“You–” George breathes out, hands flying to your hips and clutching them so tightly just to show how bad he’s holding himself back from just thrusting up into you, or better yet just flipping you around and fucking you into the mattress.

“Fuck–, I know. I know.” You say in a high pitch tone. One of your hands falls to rest flat on his chest and use as support, “I– oh, fuck…” You curse as you roll your hips forwards and then backwards this time, making you completely still at the insane sensory overdrive you’re getting from it.

George knows you need a second or two but you stay frozen for longer than he can hold so he pleads, “Baby– Fuck, baby, I need you to move, you’re so tight.”

“Just–” You try to say, rolling your hips again and mewling loudly. George moans back in response, his hands sliding down to your thighs as your head hangs in pleasure.

You establish a slow place, George’s fingers digging into the flesh of your upper thighs grounding you into the moment and allowing you to take another picture. A picture that captures your legs on each sides of his toned chest, his fingers digging into your skin, his adam’s apple bobbing as he gulps back a moan, the box tattoo on his thumb right next to the red ink of your ‘Divine Feminine’ tattoo on your thigh.

But after you press the shutter on that one, barely being able to clumsily roll the film, you just toss the camera to the side mindlessly and use your new free hand to rest on his chest as well, and the second hand of support helps you start moving your hips faster.

It’s fucking delicious the way he keeps hitting your g-spot from that angle, and when he starts bucking his hips upwards, meeting your in the middle, you can’t hold back the noises you let out. “George, fuck baby! Oh fuckkkk.” You cry out, clit feeling a bit of pressure every time you roll down and hit your pelvis, so you’re fully drunk on pleasure.

His hands run up from your thighs to mercilessly grab your ass, fingers harshly digging into your skin and stinging just in the best way. “Just like that baby. You feel so fucking good.” He praises you with a groan, helping you actually lift your hips up and down on him.

“You’re so– Oh fuck–” You’re so cock drunk, your thoughts are all stupid and leaving you without even being able to finish a sentence.

“Tight little cunt, can barely fit inside you.” George can feel himself meeting the hilt inside you every time, your cries growing in volume the faster the pace gets. “You love it huh, being filled to the brim?”

“Yes, fuck! Yes, I love it, love your cock!” You’re dripping all over him, the noise of the wetness and your skin slapping every time you meet bouncing off the walls and, combined with your moans, makes for a pornographic scene you wish you were recording.

“I know you can go faster. Can you do that for me, baby?” George genuinely can feel himself not lasting any longer with how tight you’re squeezing him.

“I can, I can.” You promise desperately, wanting to be good for him. So you pick up your pace, your hands moving ever so slightly so you can straighten up a bit and when you do so you curse out loud at the new angle, “Ah fuck!”

Your hips grow erratic, your knees helping now when you bounce up and down his cock ever so more intently, enough for you to incessantly gasp in a high pitch every time he hits that spot.

“Such a good girl for me.” His hands stop groping your ass to spank you, making you jolt forward with a loud gasp that turns into a mewl and a whine that tries to pass as a ‘yes’. His cock twitches inside you at that reaction so he does it again and again, feeling your walls flutter around him with every hit, “You're squeezing me so fucking tight, baby. Gonna cum all over my cock?”

“Yeah, yes…” You gasp, and if you hadn’t been so adamant on chasing your high, you would’ve noticed George quickly getting the camera and snapping a picture of you riding him. Hair a mess covering up your face but your mouth wide open in a moan, tits bouncing as you ride him, hands on his chest as support.

He’s just about managed to put the camera back down when he feels you squeezing him the tightest and that’s when you finally cum. “George! George! Ge–” You cry out his name like a prayer until it breaks down into a loud moan that tips him over the edge along with your cunt milking him dry into the condom as you sloppily continue to ride him.

“Fuck! Y/N!” George moans loudly, his hands going to your ass again to help you continue as he cums, his cock twitching the more he spurts into the condom, sweet relief making him see stars.

Unable to uphold yourself any longer, you collapse over him, chests heaving in sync as you both come down from your highs. It’s hard catching your breaths when your skin burns from the heat and sticks from the sweat. And George knows you’re rather uncomfortable from the way you groan into him, your fingers lazily trying to brush the hair out of your face but huffing as it sticks to your sweaty forehead.

He brushes your hair back, fingers delicately grazing your face and earning a soft smile and a sigh from you. But then his hold goes down to your hips so he can lift you up and off himself to set you beside him. You whine and pout at the loss of him, feeling so empty after he’s stuffed you to the brim.

You don’t even try to open your eyes, completely spent from your activities and snuggling into the pillows to find some comfort in your post orgasm haze.

George sits up on the edge of your bed and sheds himself off the condom, tying it so he can throw it away, and groaning as he pushes himself off the bed to make his way to the bathroom.

He takes about five minutes there and when he comes back into the room, he smiles, finding a sleepy you struggling to keep your eyes open and smirking at him. He giggles as he walks up to bed and after taking your camera and placing it on one of the bedside tables, he carries your bridal style to take you to the bathroom.

Yes you’re still on cloud nine after that orgasm but you still have a bit of sense in you then so, after thanking him with a kiss, you tell George you’re alright from there and he can wait for you in bed.

You only realize what you’d said as you wash your hands after peeing and you’re cringing just thinking about him being gone once you go back into the room. But you find that he hasn’t left and instead, he’s gone under the bedsheets and is waiting for you to cuddle up to him so you can get some rest.

You giggle like a fool when you get under the sheets and he hooks his arm around your waist to push you flush against him, your back pressed to his chest and he nuzzles into your neck from behind. Your legs tangle together and your breaths sync and slow down as the minutes go by until you succumb to their slumber.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

It’s bright outside when you wake up with the horrendous need to go to the bathroom, one that you’d been sleepily ignoring for a while but that had become too unbearable to endure anymore.

George has his hand around your waist and his leg thrown over yours, effectively keeping you trapped in his hold in bed, so you try to very slowly peel yourself away from him to escape to the toilet.

You’re careful so that you don’t wake him up just yet, but when you manage to get your legs untangled from his, he stirs and grumbles, “Where are you trying to go?” throwing his leg over yours again, his arm wrapping tighter around your waist making you chuckle.

“Bathroom.” You mumble as you try to get away again but he’s stubbornly holding you even tighter to him.

You feel him shake his head as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, a soft “No.” falling in your ears that makes you sigh.

“George.” You say softly to not disrupt the silence in the room, but he doesn’t reply so you try again a little louder this time, “George.” Once again, no response, so you end up whining, “Babyyyy.”

To the nickname he does listen, but his response is just a muttered, “Mhm?”

You turn around in his arms with a bit of struggle, cupping his face and pecking his lips a handful of times so he takes it as enough bribery to listen to you, “Please let me go. I’ll just be a minute.”

George steals one last long peck from you before smiling loopily and nodding, “Okay.”

He lazily retracts his limbs to let you get up freely from the bed, and though he’s fighting his sleep, he manages to peel his eyes open for long enough to watch your naked figure walk away from the bed and into your ensuite.

Keeping track of time is impossible to him when his eyes close again after you leave his line of sight, and he only opens his eyes again when he hears you giggle softly at the sight of him in your bed as you walk back to bed.

“You took longer than a minute.” He points out with his eyes still closed.

You snort and half heartedly apologize, “Sorry, I’m sore.”

His hand comes up to rub at his eyes, and when he does so, he sees the state in which you’ve come back so he frowns and tells you to, “Stop right there.” He sounds so serious, an amused smirk shows on your face because you have no idea what he’s about to say. An accusing finger waves in the air in your direction and he calls you out, “Why are you wearing a robe?”

“Shut up.” You say instantly when hearing that’s what is making him frown, your eyes rolling playfully at him.

“Get that off now.” He instructs but you take another step towards the bed with no intention of taking it off and he grumbles, “Y/N/N…” with a more stern tone that makes you too flustered for this time of day.

“You’re annoying.” You complain with a roll of your eyes, still listening to him and slowly undoing the knot that kept your robe closed, making it a little show as you open it up and let it fall off your body and pool at your feet on the floor.

Of course, George smirks at the sight and he has no shame in looking you up and down with hunger now shining on his sleepy eyes, his cock twitches just by seeing you naked in front of him again. Fuck, you’re stunning.

“Come here gorgeous.” The drummer invites you back into his arms and you don't have to be told twice for you to go back to bed and be the little spoon for him. You’d had such good sleep being completely enveloped in him, heavy limbs acting like a weighted blanket on you and it was utter bliss.

But after seeing you naked again, skin littered with love bites he had left all over your, hair messy and tits perky and bouncing as you walked, George feels the need to show you a bit more of the appreciation he had shown you the day before.

His hand brushes your hair to the side so he can have access to the skin on the back of your neck. Goosebumps breaking on the skin there when he starts pressing open mouthed kisses on it, fingers ghostly running down your back and stopping right on your lower back that had your back arching into him. Your ass grazed his cock every time, making it twitch and start to harden.

In search of friction, he pushes his hips forward and you reciprocate by pressing your ass against him. He keeps his actions going and sets a pace that the two of you keep up, mewling out loud when his hardening cock comes in contact with your cunt, “Hmm, George.”

“Yes, baby?” His lips brush against your skin, a shiver running down your spine and making you shudder, “You’re so fucking beautiful, please let me make you feel good.”

“Yeah…” You nod quickly, it’s a no-brainer. Your breath gets caught in your throat when he pushes his hips forwards again at the same time as you do and the tip of his cock presses on your clit.

“Yes?” He moans in your ear, hand coming around your front to play with your tits, “Can I make you cum again, sweetheart?”

You eagerly nod, swallowing a moan as he pinches your nipple and when he cup your whole tit with one hand, kneading it harshly, your “Please.” came out in the form of a whine.

“Good girl. M’gonna make you feel so good baby, I promise.” His hand continues playing with your tits as you keep grinding on each other. When his cock is hard enough, you feel it come up to rest heavily between his lower stomach and your lower back, and it’s then that he lets his fingers trail down until they hover over your mound and he breathlessly asks, “D’you trust me?”

“Yeah, George…” You’re basically pleading with him to continue, hand coming to clutch his and guide his fingers down to your soaked cunt and when he feels just how wet you are, he groans and pulls away.

“Wait.” George instructs you, leaving you alone on the bed to get a condom. You hear the wrapper rip and him moaning as he puts the condom on, stroking himself up and down a few times before he tugs the sheets off you and turns you from your side to your front so you’re face down and he can hover over you from behind.

His knees are on either side of your hips, forearms pressed on the mattress next to your shoulders and he kisses and sucks all over your back as he praises you for how gorgeous you are over and over.

He keeps bruising you up until you push your ass up and beg him to do something, the ache in your cunt too unbearable.

So George lets go of the patch of skin he’s bruising and does as you ask for, spreading your legs open as he kneels in between them and rubs his tip up and down your slit.

“Don’t tease, please.” You cry into the mattress, your cunt fluttering around nothing and it’s painful knowing just how good he felt inside you but he isn’t allowing you to feel it yet.

But then he just let himself slowly slip inside you and his jaw falls at your tightness in that angle, “Oh Y/N/N… Fuck me.” He feels like he can barely fit in, but you’re dripping with slick so it makes it a bit easier for him to slowly bottom out.

“George–” You choke out, head turning to the side to catch a glimpse of him. Your fingers clawing at the sheets beside your head for dear life.

“I know. You’re so tight.” He whimpers in pleasure, barely able to move an inch out of you because you’re so snug it feels like you’re pushing him out.

“Move baby, please.” You beg again and he starts going then, a slow pace at first that grows in speed rather quickly and has your cursing out loud, “Fuckkkkk!”

He gasps into your ear with every thrust, and it’s soon that the sound of your skin slapping drowns the room along with your moans. “Gonna miss this tight little cunt so much.” He says into your neck, sucking a bruise on the back of it before asking, “Gonna miss me too?”

“Ye– Yes! Oh shit baby!” You gasp when he hooks his left arm under your leg, pulling it upwards slowly and allowing you to stretch a bit more so you feel him even deeper, “Gonna miss you so much!”

He chuckles smugly, “I know you will.”

“Oh fuck!” You curse as he hits your g-spot perfectly from that angle, his hips hitting your ass and reminding you of how sore the skin there is from the spanking he gave you the night before. “Yes, yes! Don’t stop, please!”

“If you could only see yourself right now!” He curses under his breath when he looks down to see himself disappear into your cunt, over and over. If he keeps looking at how he keeps sliding in and out of you so easily, he will burst right then so he looks back up to your face and praises you once more, “Taking me so well, baby. You’re such a good girl.”

“Harder, please.” You ask in a whine, and he stills for just a second to get a better standing on his knees before giving it to you like you were begging to, making you instantly get even louder when he hits that sweet spot with more intensity, “Oh my– Fuck! Right there, yes!”

“Just like that, yeah?” His smirk grows on his face, feeling how it keeps getting easier to slide inside you which means you’re fucking drenched and dripping all over him, your walls fluttering around him already making him see stars.

“Yes! Yes!” You chant like a broken record, the coil in your lower stomach tightening by the second and threatening to snap at any moment, “I’m so close!”

His left arm lifts your leg even higher and then leaves it there to be able to bring his fingers down to rub at your clit and send you over the edge, “C’mon baby, cum for me sweetheart!” He encourages you as he rubs fast circles on your throbbing clit, which earns him choked out moans that turn into a throat ripping moan of, “F-fuckkkk! George!”

George feels you squeeze him so tightly as you cum, making it so much harder for him to continue thrusting in and out without losing the rhythm he’s set, he can’t hold it any longer, his hips stuttering as he cums and stilling as he spills his seed in the condom, “Ah shit! Y/N!”

His thrusts become sloppy and messy as he tries to ride out your highs while you spasm around him, whimpering as the aftershocks of your orgasm have your legs trembling under him and your white knuckle grip on the sheets falters.

Letting his weight fall over you almost entirely, George sighs in complete bliss and he kisses the back of your head and your cheek multiple times to say, “Did so good for me, sweetheart.” He drops a kiss on your lips and praises you once more, “My good pretty girl.”

The way he speaks to you makes your stomach flutter, and he feels it when you clench around him. “You like that huh?” He teases with a smirk, his nose brushing up your neck until he comes up to your ear and bites your earlobe to which you mewl in response.

He pulls out, hearing you whine when you feel upsettingly empty again but he rubs circles on your hips soothingly and asks, “Shall we go take a shower? Do you want me to help you up?”

You barely manage to reply with a quiet, “Mhm…” when a loud ringing snaps the two of you out of your wonderful post orgasm bubble.

You don’t really recognize the ringing so you figure it’s George’s phone. Yet, the drummer doesn’t make an attempt to go and get it, as he flops beside you in bed for a second before pushing himself off the bed and sheds himself off the condom you just used.

He gets up to discard it in the bathroom and just as he crosses the threshold of the ensuite, he hears his phone start ringing again. He fully ignores it again, taking his time in the bathroom until he hears you call out for him to pick up the unrelenting calls.

A grunt leaves his lips when he comes back to the room and picks up the phone only to read his sister’s name on the screen so he answers with a meek, “Y’alright?” to let her know he isn’t in the mood for the constant ringing.

You hear pure silence surrounding you for a good half minute before George sighs out an annoyed, “Fucks sake.” Opening your eyes to see him, you move onto your side to watch him as he speaks. “Right now? Really?” He asks, entirely unamused. “Yeah, really busy actually.” He says sternly, looking at you naked in front of him with wide eyes. That makes you purse your lips not to laugh but what gets the giggles out of you is when he sighs loudly and mutters, “I hate you.” to whoever it is on the phone.

It’s barely another half minute that he listens to whoever is on the other side, before he ends the call with an impatient, “Yeah, yeah. Sure. See ya’.”

“What’s wrong?” You ask curiously, your fingers playing with the ends of your hair.

George rolls his eyes at the situation, “My sister needs me for something. She says it’s urgent but I doubt it.” He shrugs then, ignoring the importance of whatever it was his sister needed him for, he had only been half listening really. “I can stay though, it wouldn’t be the first time I ignore her.”

That has you snorting in laughter, “Go, you idiot.”

“But–” He tries to argue as he comes to hover over you, head dipping to steal a kiss out of you which you break after a few seconds by pushing his shoulders softly so you can reassure him it’s fine. After all, you had really enjoyed yourself so you’re genuinely considering another date with him.

“It’s okay. I had the best time with you, and that’s all I wanted.” Your hands come to the back of his head, fingers digging into the hair at the nape of his neck and scratching his scalp softly.

George clicks his tongue and he pouts to joke, “Knew you only wanted me for my body.”

You cackle at his antics and tell him to “Shut up.” only to do it yourself by pulling him into you so you can share one last kiss. It’s sweet but it isn’t soft, your lips moving together with intent as if to prove you need to do it again because it’s just too good.

But you have to stop it before it can turn into something more. You pull on his hair so your lips separate with a smack and, with the sweetest smile and looking at him with doe eyes, you say, “Thank you, George.”

“I had the best time Y/N/N.” He replies wholeheartedly then, agreeing with your previous point.

“Me too.” You nod softly to reiterate, your hands coming back down to cup his jaw, thumbs rubbing circles on his skin.

One last short kiss is all you get in that bed before you both stand up and get dressed. Well, George does, in the same getup as the day before, while you put your robe back on and tie it around yourself slowly as he finishes getting his shoes on.

“I’ll see you soon for a second date, yeah?” He says when you walk him to the door, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

“You definitely will.” You assure, knowing you’d be texting him very soon about a second date if he doesn’t text you first about it.

He winks right as he opens the door, stealing one last peck from your lips before walking away. Leaving you with a stupid smile on your face that only gets bigger when you close the door behind you and go back to your room, seeing the mess you had left the bed looking like.

Yes, you were definitely going on a second date with him.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

A/N: What did you think? Hope you lot enjoyed it! Thank you for reading, I'm so excited to see your reactions! xx

Taglist: @imagine-that-100 @kennedy-brooke @drinkurkombucha @vinylandcoffeecollection @butyou-callmewhenyourebored

[god-has-entered-my-body]

Sun drowns the house - George Daniel & Matty Healy

aka: the spit roasting fic

A/N: took my meds just to write this fic, also thank you my love @justleaveatnine for forcing me to write and ALSO proofing this for me xx

wc: 6k

content warnings: litch everything i fear, smut, dirty talk, degradation, praise, so insanely gay dont look at me, this is what happens when a gatty truther writes a threesome fic, spit roasting (obv), handjobs (sort of), matty in lingerie (a given at this point), knife play, dom George for literally three seconds, insanely pathetic gatty for the rest, she orders them around (also a given atp), cunnilingus, slight impact play if u squint, begging, denial (sort of), facials, cumplay, mention of sub drop, but he's well taken care of x, disgustingly sweet because i have to, MDNI!!!!!!!!

You hear them first  

The door clicking open, Matty struggling to get the chain off to let George in, and then muffled footsteps as he toes his shoes off, throwing them into the floor next to the coat rack. Muffled voices laugh as Matty says something out of pocket, ushering him upstairs with a giggle. The door to the bedroom creaks open, stopping halfway through the motion because of its broken hinge.   

That's when you see both of them. Matty’s hand touching George’s arm, right above where his elbow creases. The glossy magazine in your hands is heavy, pictures of models in posh clothes littering the pages, pops of vibrant color drawing you in. It’s one of Matty’s, his extensive collection of them growing in piles next to the bed. You joke that you don't even need a nightstand anymore, you could just put the lamp on the stack of old vogue. 

You set it down, straightening your back as George looks in your direction, nodding at you as Matty keeps touching him, only letting go to close the door, leaning his back against it as you pat the bed next to you, asking George to come sit down next to you. The furniture creaks awkwardly, making you giggle when the mattress dips beside you, the unmade sheets crumpling even more under the two of you. 

George's eyes wander over to Matty, who surprisingly, is still just standing there, looking at both of you. He shifts on the bed, uncrossing his legs to sit with his feet planted on the floor, both hands on his knees as you move behind him, trying to figure out what he’s doing. 

That's when you see it. 

Matty stands there, a filthy smirk plastered on his face as both you and George stare at him, everything clicking into place slowly. His clothing gives his intentions away so blatantly, it almost makes you laugh. Clad in his favorite black, skin-tight jeans, he’s paired them with a pair of new heels neither of you had seen before. Cherry red platforms, rhinestones lined along the bottom, glimmering mesmerizingly as your eyes travel further up, taking in the sight of him all dressed up for you. 

You can feel George move oddly, and you know his little ensemble affects him just as much as you, if not even more. Matty’s top is pink and slightly see through, and you recognise it as one of yours, seeing how it hangs a bit loosely, folding and draping itself over his chest and torso. You hear the soft metallic sounds of jewelry as Matty takes a step forward, the glitter around his eyes becoming more and more visible the closer he gets the the foot of the bed

“What are you playing at, Matty?” George speaks, making you jump just a bit as his voice reverberates through your body, the low tone of his voice going straight to your core. Matty scoffs and shakes his head at the accusation, however true it might ring. 

“Just want to hang out with my mates, is that a crime now?” he deflects with another question, waving his hands around him gesturing to you, then George, like that somehow strengthens his point. 

“No one gets that done up just to hang out.” you breathe, blatantly enjoying the view as Matty’s hands find his hair, brushing back the freshly washed curls out of his face. George cocks an eyebrow at him, nodding along in agreement. Matty simply shrugs, picking at his nails in a bored way as the tension in the room builds, Both of you know what he wants, you just want to hear him say it. 

“What did you really have planned when you invited G over?” you say, hearing George suck in a deep breath in through his nose, steadying himself before Matty answers, who puts his hands up in defeat.   

“Got me there darling, m’not as slick as I thought.” now it’s your turn to scoff, “You really aren’t.”

Matty isn’t bothered by your jabs, pulling a playful face at you.

“I brought our sweet George over here to fuck him” he walks over to the foot of the bed, finding George’s choked reaction quite amusing. “Or watch him fuck you, I don't mind either way. But you knew that from the moment I walked in here.” 

"D'you want to get in my panties, George? Want me to scream your name like I scream hers?" Matty speaks, his voice sultry and low as George lunges towards him, catching his lips in a hot kiss, full of teeth and tongue and desperation as Matty whines into it, letting George take over. George’s eyes are wide when he finally pulls away, darting over Matty’s features before pulling him back in, both of them breathless as though they had just to run a marathon. You watch intently, taking in every movement and noise coming from the two of them, committing it all to memory. 

“Oh, I like this.” you whisper, grinning at the two of them as they turn to glance at you, sat back with your back against the headboard, watching the scene in front of you. “Of course you do, freak.” Matty murmurs, nipping Georges bottom lip with his teeth as the blonde gasps softly, eyes blown out and flicking between you and Matty frantically, not sure where to look. 

A delicate hand guides his face to look straight at Matty, their lips locking in another bruising kiss, making even you feel the heat of it, your fingers brushing your hair out of your face as they break away and turn to look at you. Both of their chests heave with effort, George using every ounce of self control left in him to not kiss him again, opting to bite his lip and try to catch his breath instead. Matty grins wildly, looking you up and down as ideas run through his mind, all of them absolutely filthy.

“Don’t want her to miss out on the action, yeah?” His voice is teasing as George looks at you in the same way Matty did, full of desire and want. “‘Course not.” The bed creaks loudly as Matty climbs off George, quickly pouncing onto you and slamming your back into the headboard, your crash cushioned by pillows and blankets. You yelp, a small giggle escaping you as a mess of curls bends down to press his lips to yours, tongue licking into your mouth dizzyingly 

Now it’s George's turn to watch how Matty kisses you, his lips moving from your lips to your cheek to your jaw, slowly trailing down until he reaches your collar bones, his teeth nipping at them lightly. He makes his way down your body, hands pushing your top up to reveal inches of skin previously concealed, a soft gasp leaving your lips as he presses a hot kiss right between your tits, pulling at your shirt hard enough to get you to raise your arms and have George pull it off you. No words, except a quiet “Fucking hell,” from George, are exchanged as you lean forward to unhook your bra, letting it slowly fall off you and be discarded in the corner. 

You can hear Matty exhale sharply, licking his lips before diving back in, sucking marks and bruises onto the skin of your tits, biting down every so often just to feel you twitch. He grins against you as George catches your lips in a sweet kiss, his hand coming up to cup your face as Matty presses wet kisses all down your stomach, his fingers digging into the fat of your hips, hard enough to leave bruises. 

The bed creaks again as George disconnects his lips from yours, proceeding to nudge Matty off to the left, making you spread your legs even wider. You feel obscene as George kneels in between your legs, right next to Matty, his large hands gripping your jean clad thigh and peppering kisses over the material.

“Fucking gorgeous, tastes amazing as well.” Matty mutters, almost inaudibly, his fingers toying with the button of your pants, tongue running over the zipper teasingly. The eye contact makes you dizzy with need, his eyes fluttering as the thought of his mouth on you takes over his mind. 

You look over at George, who looks like he’s trying to desperately suppress a moan at Matty’s words, his breathing heavy. Matty senses how worked up he is, his own cock starting to fill in the confines of his tight jeans. His fingers work to undo the button of your pants, the quiet pop insanely loud in the near silent room. Matty runs his thumb over the zipper, looking up and slightly behind him to get a good look at George, who is panting and bright red, rock hard in his shorts.   

“Want a taste?” Matty’s words are smooth, sure, sultry. George looks like he’s about to pass out when he pulls your zipper down, the sound ringing through his head as loud as sirens, his eyes wide and lips parted. “Fuck, can I?” George pants, his voice shaky and so turned on, he can barely form words. Matty looks up to you, his look asking for your approval, and you vigorously nod your head, pulling your gaze over to George.  “Yeah, yeah please, George– fuck.” you breathe, your eyes heavy and hooded, nipples hard against the cool air. 

Matty works on tugging your jeans down your thighs and off you, George’s hands coming up to roll your nipples between his fingers, making you gasp in a mix of pain and pleasure, head foggy with lust and desire for both of them. The moment your pants hit the floor you can feel Matty’s tongue on you, licking and sucking your clit over your cotton panties, the front of them painted with a visible wet spot, making his grin against you as the taste envelopes his senses. You roll your hips against his mouth, desperate for any friction you can get, a soft moan leaving George’s lips at the sight of Matty’s head buried between your thighs. 

With your eyes closed, you can only hear how George properly settles between your legs, mirroring Matty’s position, on his stomach. You watch as Matty moves to the side, leaving hickeys all over your thigh as George lets his fingers trace over the wet patch on the front of your panties, a mix of your arousal and Matty’s spit, shuddering as he feels you twitch under his touch. You genuinely can't think straight as George hooks his thumb into the waistband of your panties, slipping them down and off you as you arch your hips, Matty so blatantly staring at your glistening core it almost makes you giggle. 

You  bite back a whimper when George takes your panties into his right hand, stuffing them into his pocket with a smirk, Matty grinning wildly once he realizes what he'd done. George’s tongue on you feels like absolute heaven, his hand snaking around your waist to grip you tighter, pulling you impossibly close to him. Matty watches with lustful eyes, his gaze flicking from where you and George connect and your face, very much enjoying the blissed out expression painting your features. 

Your skin is flush, sweat making your hair stick to your forehead as your hips arch up and grind onto George’s tongue, blinding pleasure shooting into every corner of your body as he laps at your clit, quickly being pulled away by a very eager Matty, yelping as he’s yanked back by the hair. His lips are replaced by Matty’s, who is moaning into your cunt so obscenely it makes you blush even harder. “Want you to kiss him baby, show G some love, yeah?” you whisper, your hand running through Matty’s messed up curls as he nods, turning his head and being met with George’s face already incredibly close to his. 

The kiss is hot, all tongue and teeth and soft, breathy whimpers, the sound like music to your ears. George’s fingers circle your clit as they make out, sparks of pleasure making pressure build in your core. It doesn’t take long for George to pull away, his hand threading through Matty’s hair and staying there, guiding his mouth back to your clit, a choked moan leaving your lips. “Making her feel so good, doll, look how loud she is for us.” George coos, looking up at you as his hand presses Matty’s face further into your cunt, depriving him of any oxygen. 

You can tell how much Matty is enjoying this, his hips bucking into the mattress helplessly as George talks him through it, whispering filthy things into his ear as his lips connect with his neck, the angle awkward but still insanely hot, your eyes rolling back when George rests his head on your thigh, watching Matty eat you out with such an intensity it makes his head spin. You can feel your orgasm approaching rapidly, your chest heaving and mind hazy with pleasure, making Matty redouble his efforts as George keeps guiding his head. 

You try to warn him, but Matty just nods into your cunt, swirling his tongue around your clit and sucking it between his lips, making your vision white out in pleasure as you cum, legs trembling even in George’s firm grip. “Fuck, there you go doll, making her cum so hard, aren’t you?” George whispers, breathless at the sight of you thrashing and grinding down onto Matty’s tongue to ride out your orgasm. 

Matty’s face is slick when he pulls away, licking his lip with a filthy smirk plastered on his face. Both of them get on their knees, now kneeling in front of you, still panting and hazy from your climax. 

The kiss they share is frantic, needy, almost animalistic as Matty presses his body against his, hands tugging at George’s shirt, moaning wantonly into his mouth. “Off, need this off.” he whines, George obeying and lifting his arms up to allow Matty to take his shirt off him, leaving his sweaty chest bare. You watch as Matty’s teeth sink into the skin of his shoulder, making George cry out in surprise. The yelp slowly turns into a groan as the pain morphs into pleasure, Matty sucking hickeys into the space right below his jaw, hands roaming his chest and tweaking his nipples. 

George gives in to his touch for a while, feeling every intense sensation tenfold as Matty touches him, overwhelming him with pleasure and pure need. It’s almost painful to pull away, but he does, making eye contact with you as Matty cocks his head, following his gaze to you. You’re still laying there, though slightly sat up now as you watch the scene in front of you unfold, grinning at the show they’re putting on for you with hungry eyes. 

“I want..'' George stammers a bit, trying to form a coherent sentence as his cock strains against his trousers, Matty’s mouth back on his chest not helping him in the slightest. You smirk at Matty, parting your bruised lips to speak, your words coated in thick honey. “Tell me, baby, what do you want? Don’t be shy.” Your tone doesn’t help George speak clearly, it only clouds his mind even more, thoughts and fantasies flashing in front of his eyes faster than he can verbalize them. 

“I want you to, uhm–,” George pauses again, biting his lip as teeth graze over his nipple, the sharp pain making his cock even harder. Matty giggles at his reaction boyishly, like he isn't just as hard and twice as desperate as him, his cockiness turning you on even more. 

 “I want you to fuck him. Like you told me, wanna see him take it.” 

Those words make Matty perk up, his eyes fluttering at the thought of being filled by you, feeling you pounding into him mercilessly. You don't even acknowledge his reaction, ignoring him completely as you speak to George and only George. 

“Yeah? Wanna see how pretty he looks crying for us?” You can tell how turned on Matty is, the way you two speak about him like he isnt in the room making him dizzy with lust and want, his lips pulling away from George’s now marked up chest in favor of frantically trying to look at both of you at once, hoping to see a spark of interest in your eyes. What he sees is so much more than interest. He sees promise, and George’s next words only solidify what he hopes is going to happen. 

 “Please…Fuck, darling–”

“I know baby, just lie on the bed for me, yeah?” you coo, getting up to a kneeling position and pressing a (hardly) chaste kiss to George’s wet lips. You get up slowly, turning your back to sift through the nightstand drawer, hearing the bed creak behind you as George lays down where you previously were, leaning his back against the headboard. Your hands finally feel what you were searching for, grinning to yourself as you pull the strapon out from the mess of toys and lube that live in your bedside drawer. 

Turning back around, your breath hitches at the sight in front of you. Matty on his stomach, settled between George’s spread legs, cheek nuzzling into his tensed thigh. Strap in hand, you grin at them, both blatantly ogling your naked frame, eyes raking over the curve of your hips, the slight pudge of your stomach, and you feel a flash of power, of control rush through you at how much you affect them. 

“Getting started without me? Not that I'm complaining.” you giggle at Matty’s smile, eyes hooded in overwhelming lust as he rubs against George’s bulge, knowing how much you love it when he does shit like this. 

“And I thought Georgie here was the voyeur.” he says, his teasing tone making an already nervous George stammer and stutter over his words pathetically, trying to defend himself. “I– I don’t–” 

“Shh, it’s alright darling, no need to be shy.” you speak, slipping on the strap tightening the harness around your hips, watching how Matty’s eyes widen in anticipation. You know you look hot, evident in the way they both look at you, silently begging you to do something, anything, or at least allow them to do something to each other. 

“Oh– fuckk– ” the desperate noise comes from George, caused by Matty suddenly unzipping his trousers, the pressure on his cock finally being relieved after what feels like hours. Matty practically salivates at the sight of his cock straining against his boxers, eyes flicking back up to where you're standing, wordlessly begging for permission to touch him properly. “Just keep being pretty for me, I'll be right there.” you tell him, his defeated nod making your core stir with desire. 

Brushing your hair with your fingers, you grab the bottle of lube sitting on the nightstand, fumbling it and earning a giggle from Matty. You watch him mouth along George’s cock through his boxers, the blonde’s eyes screwed shut in torturous pleasure as Matty teases him. Matty, still fully clothed, attempts to grind against the mattress, being the only one that hasn't been properly touched this whole time. You chuckle to yourself and so does George, and you make playful eye contact as Matty whines, slowly getting more and more impatient. 

“Getting so worked up for us, aren’t you baby? Want me to fuck you, is that it?” you tease mercilessly, dragging out each syllable until Matty feels like he’s going to cum on the fucking spot, his hips bucking wildly against the sheets. George watches as you kneel on the bed right behind Matty, nudging his legs telling him to spread them. “Let's get these off you, yeah?” Matty nods frantically, too turned on to speak as he licks up George’s shaft, watching him twitch under the heat of his tongue. 

Matty shuffles on the bed, kneeling and staring at George as he unbuttons his skin-tight jeans, moaning in relief as the pressure is lifted off his leaking cock. The lust is so dizzying that he fumbles with the zipper for a few beats, finally getting it down far enough to show both of you the new lace he had gotten especially for today. You make eye contact with George, the sight of him palming himself over his boxers, skin flushed bright red and chest heaving burning itself into your memory. Matty throws his jeans off the bed, taking a moment to mirror George’s movements on his own cock, pornographic moans spilling from his lips at the sensation. 

Matty’s your top is next to go, joining the crumpled up jeans on the floor. Your breath hitches when he looks back at you, winking provocatively before running his hands up his chest, finally able to touch himself properly. You let him, knowing how much George is enjoying the show based on the choked groans leaving his lips, the whole scene going straight to your core. 

“Get on your stomach, baby, make G here feel so good for me.” you speak slowly, smiling condescendingly as Matty’s eyes cloud over with lust, his nod dazed and desperate, and you know he’d do anything right in that moment. He does what you say, leaning forward and scooting onto his stomach, back in the position he was before. Clicking your tongue, you grab his hips harshly. “You know what I need from you Matty– yeahh that's it baby, arch that pretty back for me, doesn't he look so good like this, George?” 

Both of them whine at your words, and you can physically feel how bad Matty needs you, his breathing heavy and irregular, skin glistening with sweat. You’ve dragged this out as long as you can, teasing and toying with both of them to near tears. Right when they think it's over, all the games and demands, that's when you pull out one final item from under the sheets. 

A small pocket knife. 

Matty can’t see it, but George can. His eyes widen as you twirl it at him, grinning wildly as you lean down to whisper into Matty’s ear, your strap pressing up against him, making him tremble in anticipation. Trailing the blade down his spine, you watch goosebumps erupt all over his skin as he slowly realizes exactly what you’re doing, a strangled whine ripping itself from his throat. 

“Want me to cut your pretty panties off you, baby? Have you all exposed for us?” 

Your words make Matty genuinely shiver, his nodding frantic as he turns his head back to catch a glimpse of the knife, so overwhelmed with sensation he can't form a single coherent thought, his hips pressing back into your strap. “Don’t neglect poor George just because you’re a fucking whore for me, yeah?” As the focus is brought back to him, you watch George’s eyes snap up to meet yours, wide and hazy. 

Matty whimpers quietly, his fingers quickly working to tug George’s shorts further down, taking his boxers with them. George stifles a moan as Matty’s cool hand wraps around his cock, gathering the precum at the tip and smearing it down his shaft. “Fuck, you’re so hard.” are the only words he can force out, mesmerized by George and his reaction. “C’mon baby, spit on his pretty dick, get him nice and wet.” you urge him, and George can't stop the pathetic obscene moan that leaves his lips when Matty does just that, spit dribbling down his as his hand moves up and down his cock. 

What finally does George in is the way Matty looks at him, teary eyed and desperate, his tongue darting out to kitten lick the tip, sucking the head of his cock between his lips. The look of absolute bliss on George’s face makes your breath hitch, one of your hands trailing up to grope yourself, enjoying the scene playing out in front of you. 

You use Matty’s preoccupation to trace the knife in your hand further down his back, hooking the blad into the waistband of his panties, slowly letting the material split until it quite literally falls off him. 

You can tell exactly when Matty takes George completely into his mouth, a dragged out, “O-oh god– shittt.” leaving his lips as George lets one of his hands find Matty’s cheek, soothingly rubbing it as he bobs his head, making the blonde’s eyes screw shut in pleasure. You don’t let yourself get lost in it though, but fuck, it’s hard not to. The sound of the cap opening is impossibly loud, and Matty recognises it immediately, his hips bucking violently as he gags around George, eyes tearing up from the effort. 

You slick up your strap with a generous amount of lube, using the remaining liquid to draw a small heart on Matty’s back, the shape shining even in the dim light of the bedroom. Matty coughs violently as George accidentally thrusts up into his mouth, a mix of spit and precum dripping down his chin as he pulls off for a second, wiping away a few tears.

“I’m okay G, I promise. Fuck, that was so hot.” he assures George, grinning up at him with sparkling eyes, mouthing an inaudible “I love you,” before taking him back down his throat. 

You watch as George threads his hand into Matty’s hair, pushing his head down slightly and gauging his reaction, a muffled moan telling him all he needs to know. Using more force, he guides Matty’s head up and down his cock, slowly, almost lovingly, fucking his mouth. The groans that spill from his lips are nothing short of delicious, spurring Matty on to take him even further, doing his absolute best to suppress his gag reflex, relishing in the feeling of George’s cock hitting the back of his throat. 

Leaning down once again, you whisper quietly against Matty’s ear, “Relax a bit Matty, mhm? I’m so proud of you, you’re taking this so well for us.” Matty can only whine in response, attempting to nod even with his mouth stuffed full of cock. . 

You inhale deeply before pressing the tip of the strap to his hole, teasing him one last time, just for the sake of watching him squirm and writhe under you. You know his cock is leaking onto the sheets by now, making a mess of them because he can’t help himself when it's the two of you, thinking his with dick instead of his brain. 

“He’s so fucking pretty George. Look how good he’s gonna take my cock, aren't you baby?” you speak, nodding at a blissed out George, so overwhelmed with pleasure he can barely respond, nodding back at you. The relieved moan that leaves Matty’s lips when you finally, finally press into him is nothing short of pornographic, audible even over the wet sounds of his lips sinking down on George’s cock, bringing him closer and closer to the edge with each and every movement. 

“So gorgeous doll, feels good?” you coo, your hands gripping his hips and holding him in place, mercilessly fucking into him and never once letting up for even a second. Matty pulls off of George to answer, his hand taking over while he speaks, stumbling over his words pathetically. “P-please, feel so full, fuckk–” 

George just watches you thrust into him, brushing against his g-spot with each movement of your hips, Matty’s whines once again muffled by his cock fuckign into his mouth, taking pleasure like it belongs to him. “Taking us so good Matty– looks so fucking pretty too, doesn't he?” Your words motivate Matty to no end, and he deepthroats George until he can’t breathe, so eager to please it literally possesses him, the only thing on his mind being you and George. 

“Yeah, y’look so beautiful choking on my cock, fuck.” George groans, and you know he’s close because of how his voice pitches up, sounding eerily similar to Matty. You almost scold him when he pulls off again, his obscene moans now even louder as your strap hits his g-spot over and over again, making him dizzy and all his thoughts go away, pleasure taking over every inch of his being. 

“Feels s’good, shit– Please make me cum, darling I need to cum so fucking bad, been so good f’you, please.'' Wet sounds fill the room, and you're sure you look like something straight out of a porno, the position so filthy it clouds your mind, your movements speeding up, causing Matty to moan louder, loud enough for even the neighbors to hear. Not that you would mind.   

“George–” he starts, interrupted by your chest pressing to his back and you reaching to wrap your hand around his cock, squeezing him before putting on a condescending tone “Speak up baby, he can’t hear you.” George can barely think, so fucking close to the edge he can taste it, his cock leaking and twitching with every jerk of Matty’s hand, his knuckles ghostly white where he grips the sheets, trying desperately to hold off his rapidly approaching orgasm. 

“George, I want– FUCK– please, oh god fuck.” Matty’s voice cracks as you start drilling impossibly deeper into him, stretching his hole around your strap, mesmerized by how absolutely fucked out he looks even though you can barely see his face. 

“Want you to cum on m’face G, please darling, please.” he slurs, eyes hooded and heavy as he twitches in your hand, threatening to cum in mere seconds if you don’t get your hands off of him. You want this to last, after all.  

“So filthy, and here we thought you had a bit of dignity left in you. I don’t blame you though, baby, just look at him.” you let go of his cock, a quiet whine interrupting you, earning Matty a soft slap to the flesh of his arse. 

George pants, his hair wild and eyes glazed over with lust, looking like the fucking personification of sex. Matty’s eyes light up when he nods, blinking slowly as his hands settle on his stomach, leaving Matty to do all the work for him. You can tell how much he loves the idea of finishing on Matty’s face, the thought messing with him much more than he lets on. But you know, and he knows you know. 

It doesn't take anything but a few jerks of his cock and Matty batting his lashes, looking up at him with that eager, fucked out expression on his face that could make anyone give in to him to make George spill all over his face, painting his features with thick ropes of cum. George shudders violently, bucking his hips into Matty’s hand as he works him through his orgasm, sticking his tongue out to fuck with him even more. 

You don't stop pounding into Matty, not even for a second, the bed shaking with the sheer force of your thrusts as Matty’s moans and whimpers go unmuffled. “M’so close, fuck, please darling, fuck me harder.” George sees him genuinely tear up, bringing his hand up to cup his face sweetly, wiping away stray tears as a wanton moan spills from his lips. 

“Jesus christ, he’s–” you don't even let him finish, nodding in agreement as Matty presses his cheek into George’s hand, his please borderline incoherent by now.

“Fucking wet dream, isn’t he? Can never get used to how sweet he sounds, can I, baby?” Matty nods violently, his cock twitching and leaking precum, and you know he’s never been more ready to cum in his life. Yet, he knows he can’t, not until you allow him to. 

“Pleasepleaseplease, oh god m’gonna cum, please George–” Matty uses the last of his strength to beg the one person who he knows would let him, tears rolling down his cheeks, mascara and eyeshadow mixing with his smeared lipstick as he begs for permission

“Go on doll, cum for us. I know how bad you want to, yeah? Fucking soak our sheets.” George speaks slowly, his voice rough and strong, a flash of dominance coursing through his veins right in that moment. 

Matty cums, hard, writhing against the mattress, legs shaking while George's hand soothingly runs through his messed up hair, the touch comforting as his orgasm washes over him in violent, almost forceful waves. 

“Look so beautiful Matty, just let go, let it all out, baby.” 

You swear he’s never looked this good in your life, having taken absolutely everything you’ve given to him with an obedient nod and an eager expression, holding off until he’s made both you and George cum. You stroke his back lovingly as he goes limp against the bed, breathing heavy, his small sounds of pleasure as you pull out making you smile. 

George whispers unintelligible praise, making sure he knows how good he had been for both of you, how absolutely loved he is. 

“I love you so much baby, did so well for us.” you say, your tone loving and soft, peppering kisses down his spine as you slip off the harness, discarding it somewhere behind you. Matty nods weakly into George’s thigh, muttering a small “love you too,” back at you. 

“Gotta get up for us, doll, need to clean you up.” Matty groans in protest to Georges implication that he should move, eventually giving in at the promise of a more comfortable, less wet sleep. You get up to get tissues, wiping the cum off his face with a giggle, earning an amused chuckle from George, who is holding Matty against his chest, stroking his hair and kissing his shoulders lovingly, showering him with the affection he most definitely deserves. 

“Sleep?” Matty whispers quietly, evidently tired and half asleep already, his head resting against George’s shoulder. You nod, guiding his frame to lay down between you and George, letting your arm drape over him comfortingly. 

“You were so amazing Matty, we’re both so, so proud of you.” Matty, now slightly more coherent, offers a cheeky “Yeah I know that, fucking look at the state of me.”  

George lets out a girlish giggle at his words, wrapping his arm around his waist, letting Matty slowly drift off into sleep, absolutely exhausted and rightfully so, given the relentless teasing and torture you had put to poor boy through. He loved it though, and reassures you of that every chance he gets

You make eye contact with him one last time, George mouthing a barely audible “I love you,” shutting his eyes just in time to miss the massive, stupid grin plastered on your face. 

Their soft snoring and the heat of their bodies beside you lulls you into a deep, comfortable sleep, peacefully surrounded by the two people you love most. 

[toomuchracket]

dancing like she way out (george daniel x reader smut)

shag the dj shag the dj shag the dj, or whatever the smiths said. basically - a night out takes a turn for the better when you hook up with the hot dj. won't lie, there's use of the d word in here. and choking, because we've all seen that man's hands. enjoy <3

all your friends are wasted, and you hate this club.

no, really - three of them are currently spewing their guts up in the toilets after going too hard on the tequila rose, while the rest flail wildly on the dancefloor in between queuing at the bar to buy yet another round of overpriced jagerbombs. meanwhile, you're doing your best to dodge the extremely persistent man you first swerved about an hour ago, some palm angels-clad twat with shit hair and an inability to take no for an answer, and also doing your best not to spill your vodka cranberry all over yourself in the process.

in short, you're having a shitter of a night.

at least the dj's fit, though. really fit. and, to be fair, he’s spinning some decent stuff. the one saving grace of the night, you'd say.

you watch him from the edge of the dancefloor, empty cup in hand. he's quite focused, more so than some of the wankers you've been dragged to see in this club in the past, only looking up to signal to the bar staff that he needs a refill and to check the vibe of the room. he has pretty eyes, you notice, sharp and dark and clear; eyes that could definitely get you to commit a multitude of sins, quite frankly.

and now? they're looking right at you.

looking isn't a strong enough word, actually. they drag slowly down your body - locking with your own, then travel to your pouty, brown-lined lips, and shamelessly over the curves of your body onto your legs - leaving a trail of thrill-induced goosebumps across your skin in their wake. suddenly, they flick back up to your face, and one closes in a wink. you smirk, and the dj does too.

interesting.

one of your more sober friends nudges you, handing you another vodka. you accept it without breaking eye contact with the dj, wrapping your lips around the straw and smiling with it between your teeth. he raises his eyebrows, still smirking, and you wink; your friend notices, and leans round so you can see her. “are you eye-fucking the dj?”

“maybe,” you reluctantly tear your eyes from him to look at her. “in my defence, he started eye-fucking me first.”

she laughs, tugging you onto the floor and motioning for you to dance. “i think we should keep him looking at you, then.”

“alright,” you down your drink and set down the cup. “let's dance.”

and so, you do, pulling out all the stops. your hair flows behind you as you swing your hips, body twisting and turning and stretching as you lose yourself under the lights and amidst the beat, and you laugh excitedly with your friend as she twirls you. the dancefloor is so empty that you can spin to your heart's content, but that doesn't bother you at all - it means there's less for the object of your efforts to be distracted by, more chance that his attention is on you.

it seems to be completely on you, actually; every time you catch a glimpse of him, his eyes are on you again, and your friend attests to that in your ear as she pulls you in for a hug. “he hasn't stopped looking at you, for even a second. that man wants you, babe.”

you angle your body towards the deck so you can see him. the club lighting is simultaneously sheering out his black shirt and throwing both his stubbled face and tattooed arms into focus - fuck, his arms. 

and he's still looking at you.

“i think you might be right,” you turn back to your friend so she can hear you, deliberately leaning forward and shaking your ass slightly in his direction. “and i want him too.”

she shoves you towards the deck. “go and get him, then.”

with a giggle, you set off, swinging your hips as you all but skip towards the extremely sexy man behind the music. unfortunately for you, some arsey man in too-tight chinos gets to the deck first; folding your arms, you stand behind him, miffed, and wait your turn to speak.

luckily, you only have to do that for a couple of seconds. the guy isn't particularly drunk, but he's annoying. “hey, bro,” he says to the dj, whose handsome face is set in an expression full of what can only be described as ennui. you assume he sees this kind of thing all the time. “can you play some, like, chainsmokers? that would be so sound of you.”

chainsmokers? christ.

clearly, your distaste is showing, because the dj's face slips into a tiny smirk as he looks at you out of the corner of his eye; it disappears, though, before he replies. “‘fraid not, mate…”

his fucking voice. dear god. who is this man, and where has he been all your life?

“...i don't take requests.”

you believe it. everything about the dj screams control, and with every passing second your want to submit to that control is growing. it's not want you have for him any more, but sheer fucking need.

the other guy shrugs and wanders off, and the attention is all on you again. leaning over the mixing board towards you, the dj smirks again. “you, however, can ask me for anything you like.”

fuck. keep it together, bitch.

“anything?” you smile, saccharine, carefully leaning on the side of the deck in such a way that it pushes your boobs up. “even cascada?”

he rolls his eyes. “and here i thought you had taste.”

“whatever made you think that?”

“you picked out that dress to wear tonight, yeah?”

christ. “yeah. you like it?”

he nods, taking a sip of his drink. “it's gorgeous on you. but i think most things would be.”

you blush, revelling in the compliment before shooting your shot. “present company included?”

“jesus,” he shakes his head, and for the briefest of moments you worry that you've lost him. but then he looks up, hunger in those fucking eyes of his, and smirks again. “is that what you want, angel? to go somewhere together and find out?”

the ease with which the pet name falls from his lips is staggering, so much so that you can merely nod. that's not good enough for him, though - “need you to talk to me, beautiful.”

“sorry, sorry,” you compose yourself (with great difficulty). “yes, that's what i want.”

“s'reciprocated,” he smiles, genuinely. “i’m george, by the way.”

you smile in response, and introduce yourself. george says your name, slowly, and you fear that your legs might give way. “pretty,” he replies. “i like how you feel on my tongue.”

the words practically shoot straight into the scrap of fabric you call panties, and your jaw drops. george giggles. “you're cute when you're flustered, angel.”

“shame. i don't tend to make a habit of that.”

“hmmm,”  he clicks his tongue. “i'll need to work on that, then.”

you smile, radiant. “promise?”

“promise,” george smiles. he checks his watch, and you try not to drool at the way his arms flex. or his hands - god, look at his hands! “s'almost closing time. meet me back here in half an hour?”

“looking forward to it,” you blow him a kiss, preening at the way he blushes. “see you in a bit, gorgeous.”

he winks again. you turn and walk back to your friends, who have gathered along the edge of the dancefloor to watch your exchange with the dj. they huddle around you like a rugby scrum when you near them, a cacophony of slurred voices asking what and where and who and when and how; you gesture for them to follow you to the smoking area, where - to much excitement - you relay the details to them in the breaks between nicotine hits, and hug them all goodnight before you have to go back inside, them to the cloakroom and you to the dj.

your wingwoman friend is the last one you bid farewell to - she links arms with you to walk back into the sweaty club, doing the pre-prepared spiel you give each other when you pull. “have fun, but don't be stupid. if it's his place you end up at, then send me your location. i'll phone you in the morning, alright?”

“yeah,” you kiss her cheek. “thanks for all your help.”

“no problem. stay safe, have the best time,” she grins. “and i want details at the pub quiz on tuesday.”

“noted,” you hug her again as you reach the place to part ways. “love you. goodnight.”

“get it, bitch!” she shouts after you; you turn to salute her and giggle, and then she's gone. with a deep breath and a shake of your hair, you dart past the people starting to head towards the cloakroom, butterflies starting to emerge again as you get closer to george.

he smiles when he sees you, eyes raking over your body once again. “you know,” he says, as you reach the deck. “you really are beautiful.”

“i'm already leaving with you, george, you can drop the flattery,” you roll your eyes, then beam at him. “thank you, though.”

“just stating facts,” george turns some sort of dial, and the music fades to silence. as the club staff usher everyone from the room, he sighs happily. “been waiting to do that since you came up to me earlier.”

“really?”

“yeah,” he unplugs his laptop from the deck, sliding it into a backpack. “you're very distracting, you know, looking so good and dancing like that.”

“well, i try,” you hold out a hand. “ready to go?”

george nods, stepping down beside you - you gawk at the the height of him, towering over you. “fuck me, you're tall.”

he laughs, taking your hand in his. again, the size difference is insane, and you find yourself momentarily nervous to get into bed with him; that soon passes in favour of excitement, though. “don't worry, i'll even out the height thing by getting on my knees soon enough.”

the speed with which you tug him toward the exit at that is almost comical. george only giggles and lets you drag him to the door - he stops when you’re out in the cold air, though. “hold on, angel, i need a cig.”

you nod, standing on the step beside the door while he moves down a few to light his cigarette in peace. his hands, so big, are surprisingly nimble as he pulls a fag from the packet and flicks the lighter on; again, it does something to your core, and you lean against the brick wall to keep yourself steady.

after a few (erotic) drags of the cig, george holds it out to you. wordlessly, you accept, holding eye contact as you take a drag and exhale it in his direction. george's eyes flick to your lips, then back to your own - suddenly, he's kissing you, a hand in your hair and one on the small of your back, your arms looped around his neck. it's not a polite kiss, by any means; george kisses like he’s trying to devour you in the best possible way, stealing all the air from your lungs and inhibitions from your brain, tongue and teeth working against your mouth to get you to give in to him.

like you need any convincing.

a trail of spit connects you as he breaks the sloppy kiss, forehead resting against yours as you both breathe deeply. “fuck, angel,” george sighs, kissing you quickly again. “your place or mine?”

“we can be at my flat in five minutes if we walk quickly.”

“shit. lead the way.”

***

your front door hasn't even fully closed behind you before george is pressing you up against it, grabbing handfuls of your ass and lifting you so he can kiss your lips and neck while he grinds into you. every time his hips meet yours, you feel your eyes roll back into your head and the need for him inside you growing. his teeth meet the skin of your collarbone, and you swear you see stars. “george.”

his head shoots up immediately. “no marks?”

“no, leave as many as you want. it's just,” you whimper as he sucks a bruise into your skin. “i really want you to take me to bed. please?”

he groans at that, peeling you off the wall as he turns. “where…?”

“second door on the left.”

no sooner than the words have left your lips, george is kicking your bedroom door open and all but throwing you onto your bed. hands shaking, you do your best to undo your heels and throw them into a corner as george rids himself of backpack and shirt; you mewl at the sight of him, muscles hardened in the moonlight, and sit up on your knees to clumsily undo his belt.

he shakes his head, moving your hands from him. “you first, angel. arms up, come on, let's get that pathetic excuse for a dress off you.”

“i thought you liked this dress?” you frown, even as you oblige and let him peel the dress up your body.

“i do, but - oh, fuck,” george moans as your almost-bare body is revealed to him. “it was doing an awful job of stopping me thinking about you like this.”

his gaze on you is almost predatory, so much so that it makes you sink back onto your knees in submission, legs slightly open and chest forward. “do i live up to your daydreams, sir? no, wait,” you squint, assessing george to see if you can figure him out. “do i live up to your daydreams, daddy?”

you've hit the nail on the head; george’s eyes close as he swears and undoes his belt, kicking his trousers and shoes off before climbing onto the bed, onto you. he pulls you slowly onto his lap, and rocks you back and forth even more slowly. “does this answer your question, baby?” he murmurs, the gravel in his voice liquifying your insides and sending them straight into your underwear. the friction against his hardness is incredible, and all you can do is whine as you look into those obsidian eyes - again, that's not good enough for george, who delivers a sharp smack to your ass. “words, angel. tell daddy what you think.”

“i - ooh,” you whimper, as george changes angle to one that manages to catch your clit with every grind. “i think i live up to them, yes, daddy. think you wanna fuck me, and - shit - i want that too.”

“my smart girl,” he kisses you again, another head-melter that has you moaning into his mouth. “what else do you want, hmmm? want me to go down on you?”

as tempting as having that mouth between your legs sounds… that isn’t what you want right now. “wake me up like that tomorrow, please,” you savour the way george whines into your neck at the thought. “but right now, i just need you to fill me up, daddy.”

“well, i did say you could ask me for anything you liked,” he grins against you, kissing you quickly before softly laying you down. “fuck, look at you, angel, so fucking beautiful. where have they been keeping you from me all this time?” 

your cheeks burn at the way he bites his lip, trailing his hands over your bare chest and all the way down to your panties. “i mean, seriously,” he hums. “i've never wanted to fuck someone more in my life.”

“so do it. please,” you open your legs, showing him the surely-visible wet patch on your silky underwear. “need you inside me, daddy.”

“alright, alright,” george huffs out a laugh, one of disbelief, as he trails a finger up your clothed slit. “jesus, you’re soaked already. can i take these off?”

“please.”

he smiles, dragging the material down your legs and his fingers through your wetness; evilly, he slides the same hand beneath his boxers to palm himself, groaning. when you protest, he laughs. “just making sure we're both ready, baby. speaking of… protection?”

you say nothing, and just reach across to grab your pill packet from the bedside table and wave it at him.

“noted,” he leans forward to kiss you, before moving back onto his knees to slide his boxers off. as the fabric drops, so does your jaw: you knew from the feeling of him under you that you weren't dealing with something compact, here, but george is fucking huge. like, slightly terror-inducing huge. that said, though, you begin to salivate at the sight of him - he notices this, and giggles. “like what you see?”

“yeah,” wide eyed, you look up at his face, your own breaking into an anticipated smile; tentatively, you reach out to touch his cock, both of you gasping in tandem when you wrap your hand (as best you can) around him, manicured thumb flicking over the pre-cum soaked tip. neither of you break eye contact as you pump him a few times, the sexual tension in the room too magnetic to do so, and when you speak it comes out in a whisper. “how do you want me?”

“how don’t i want you?” george smirks, tapping your wrist to make you let go of him. he shuffles forward, big hands meeting your chest and squeezing gently, and beams when you whine. “fucking love that sound. lie back for me, angel, wanna watch these tits while i make you feel good. that alright?”

“mhmm,” you do as asked, fanning your hair across the pillow and spreading your legs - george can't seem to decide where to look, eyes darting between your face and chest and glistening cunt, and it makes you feel incredible. “like this, daddy?”

he nods. “perfect,” his lips find yours again  as he settles above you, resting his weight on one hand while the other slides between your thighs again. two long fingers tentatively dip into your cunt, and george groans while you gasp at the fullness. christ, if this is how you react to his fingers, then what on earth will it be like when he's actually fucking you? “jesus, baby, you're so fucking tight,” he hisses, eyes heavy as he looks down into yours. “want me to get you off with my hand first, before you take my cock? i mean, you're wet enough that you should be alright, but… i want you to feel good. comfortable. s'all about you, angel.”

shit. you have a sneaking suspicion that this man might genuinely be the death of you. but at least you'll die happy, yeah?

smiling, slightly dazed, you shake your head. “just want you to fuck me, daddy. need it, needed your cock all night.”

“you're sure?” george caresses your cheek.

“i'm sure,” you nod, humming happily as you watch him pump himself and drag his length through your wetness. “put it in, please.”

“sweet girl,” he kisses you, deep and slow, and pushes into you, the same. “oh my god.”

you're speechless, breathless, completely fucking brainless - all you can think about is the utterly delicious way george is stretching you out. nobody you've ever fucked before has really made you relate to the metaphor “rearranging your guts”, but with him it's crystal clear; he's so gentle and you're so turned on that it isn't painful, but he's definitely ruined any other man for you already and he's - you look down to check - not even fully inside you yet.

you giggle, slightly delirious, at that realisation. george smiles at you, groaning as he bottoms out and stills inside you. “feeling good?”

“so fucking good,” you lean up to kiss him, whining against his lips at the slight change in angle. fuck, he’s deep. “fuck me, please.”

he smirks. “magic word?”

“fuck me, please,” you kiss him again, sinking your teeth into his bottom lip then pulling back and whispering. “daddy.”

“good girl,” george pulls your legs around his waist, slowly sliding out of you and back in; you both moan in harmony as he does. “jesus, you feel incredible.”

you preen, beaming up at him - the smile is knocked from your face as he speeds up, though, in favour of your jaw dropping in pleasure. “yeah, that's it. fucking me so good, don't stop, please.”

“not stopping until i get you off, angel, don't worry,” he shifts slightly again, his next thrust hitting a spot inside you that you didn't think existed; when he does, you whimper, the contact sending another gush to your core and shockwaves throughout your body. “oh, you liked that, didn't you, sweet girl? shall i do it again? yeah, i think i will.”

he does, ripping a cry from your throat in the process. your legs quiver around his waist, the repeated hits to the area sparking them into movement, and you clutch desperately at his forearm beside your head. “daddy…”

“what is it, angel?” george leans down to kiss you, still fucking you relentlessly. “tell me what you want.”

your brain is growing hazier by the second, dopamine and serotonin and god knows what else overpowering all your motor functions, but you still manage to oblige. “want - fuck - want you to choke me.”

“fuck,” george’s eyes roll back slightly. “you're sure?”

you nod, stomach contracting in ecstasy. “need it, need you.”

“you're so fucking cute,” he grins, incongruous with the way his big hand wraps around your neck and presses, just enough for you to sigh happily and clench around him. “think you really might be an angel, by the way,” he pants out, never letting the rhythm of his hips drop. “you feel like heaven. look like it, too. and trust me, later on,” he kisses your neck, dragging his tongue up so he can whisper in your ear. “i am going to get on my knees and worship you for hours.”

okay, it's settled - he's perfect. you can never fuck anyone else ever again. “please.”

“‘please’ what, sweet girl? please do that?” he coos, sucking another mark just under your jaw. “or please make you cum?”

“cum,” you choke out from under his hand, legs practically thrashing from how good you feel. “please, daddy.”

“gonna be a good girl and help me, then?” george looks you straight in the eye, his almost completely shut in pleasure. “touch yourself for me. show me what you're gonna do every time you think about this, about me.”

christ alive. you obey (you're not sure that you'd be unable to resist that voice even if you wanted to), grabbing one of your tits in one hand and sliding the other between your bodies to your clit. as soon as you touch the bundle of nerves, the shockwaves pulsing through your body increase tenfold; if not for george above you, grounding you, you reckon you'd have shot off the mattress by now. through a quivering jaw, you talk to him. “m'so close, so fucking close.”

“me too, angel,” george’s eyelids flutter as he talks. “don't fight it - cum for me, my good girl, cum on my fucking cock.”

your body does as it’s told, a final surge of pleasure flowing through your body so strongly that you actually black out for a second; your fuse is relit by george groaning, gravel and guttural, in your ear, imminent climax signalled by his hips falling out of rhythm for the first time so far and his hand slackening on your neck. “oh, fuck, i'm there. can i… inside?”

“yeah,” you breathe out. “fill me up, daddy.”

“shit!”

with a moan of your name, george buries himself to the hilt inside you one final time, thrusting shallow and kissing you fiercely as he paints your insides white. once he’s done, he carefully lies down on top of you and rests his head in the crook of your neck, still inside you as you both catch your breath. despite finishing last, he’s the first to speak, moving to hover over you and kiss you again. “i'm so glad you decided to go out tonight.”

“me too,” you giggle. “same again next week?”

“absolutely. i'll be the one waiting by the speakers.”

[abiiors]

one for the road // george daniel x reader

a/n: the idea belongs to my sweet friend ace @ughgoaway and i'm just bringing it to life but JFC GEORGE'S HANDS HAVE BEEN THE ONLY THING ON MY MIND SINCE BOILER ROOM (side note but it took me sooooo long to think of a title until one for the road by am came up on shuffle) cw: semi-public, fingering, edging, slightly dom/sub?? like it's kinda hinted but that's it, the writer’s hand kink is very obvious in this one wc: 2.6k

l.a. traffic is the bane of your existence. everything crawls at a glacial pace, there are a million and one red lights and every once in a while someone tries to honk or zoom past as if that would magically clear the road for them. you try to play some music and even that keeps getting interrupted by the two calls george has gotten so far. 

you’re frustrated beyond belief and so is he, judging by his tight grip on the steering wheel and his clenched jaw. 

“george!” you whine. it’s childish and immature, and yet you can’t help it. it’s not even ten a.m. and everything is already hellish. 

“i know, baby,” he speaks in a low voice, navigating yet more traffic. by some miracle, the car in front of you speeds, opening up space for you to cross the green light. george perks up, about to floor it when someone cuts in from behind, and gets stuck right in front of you. just in time for the light to turn red.

george slaps the steering wheel, letting out a few choice curse words, you groan into your hands, about to curse some more when his hand lands on your thigh. 

it’s innocent enough—something he’s done countless times. it’s almost a permanent resting spot for his hands when you’re driving anyway, but the rough pads of his fingers scratch against your thigh. his rings glint in the sunlight, and you stare at his hands, completely forgetting about the frustration from just a minute ago. 

the red light lasts far longer than it should, longer than it has any right to. but in the end you move again, and george’s hand goes back to the steering wheel. instantly, you miss the warmth of it, the friction of his fingers against the smooth skin of your thigh. you fidget with the hem of your short, short skirt, wishing your fingers felt the same. they don’t, not even close. 

“fuckin’ hell,” george curses quietly, voice gravelly. his fingers drum on the leather, and a deep groan echoes around the car, making your mind go to all the places it really shouldn’t. 

you sneak another look at him, at the way he dwarfs the car seat. his long legs are almost stretched out in front of him, spread wide. your mind wanders to all the times you've sat between them, pleasing him for hours, being a good girl and keeping him warm. 

“you’ve gone quiet,” he speaks suddenly and places his hand back on your thigh. it almost makes you jump but you see right in front of you, at another red light and then at his hand on your thigh, at the veins littering it. 

“‘m fine!” you squeak, voice weirdly high-pitched. 

“you’re annoyed, aren’t you,” he tuts. “‘m so sorry, baby.” he does sound genuinely sorry, stroking your thigh with a gesture that he thinks is comforting.

for you, however, it only makes everything worse. 

george draws small circle on your skin, round and round and absentminded as he waits for the car in front of you to start moving. he doesn’t know how strongly you’re trying not to rub your thighs together. he doesn’t know the kind of buzz filling your head, each time his hand inches higher or inward. 

“n-no,” you choke out, trying to sound as normal as possible. you’re completely fine! you’re not about to soak through your underwear and onto the rich leather seats. “traffic’s normal.”

the last bit catches his attention but before he can say anything, the light turns green and george removes his hand once again. you scrunch your eyes shut, embarrassed at breathy your voice sounded just now. how girlish and needy. 

but the sunlight makes his rings glint again and your mouth goes dry. 

oh to feel them against your cunt… your ass… 

oh to feel the cold metal on your lips while he shuts you up by shoving his fingers in your mouth. 

“baby? you alright?” he tries to sneak a quick glance at you while also keeping an eye on the road. “shit, you’re not carsick, are you?”

sick. yes. that would be one word to describe you—sick in the head for wanting him to use his fingers right now, so publicly in the middle of a busy l.a. highway. right here where anyone can peep in. 

he sneaks another glance at you, a bit longer this time with his brows furrowed and lips pressed in a straight line, and places his hand on your leg again. deliberate. 

“bab—”

“george!” a whine slips out of you, and you can’t help but cross your legs this time, effectively trapping his hand between them. his fingers are so fucking close to your cunt, so…

“oh,” he breathes out and you feel his fingers move. it’s a swipe against the inside of your thigh, so fucking high up that he might as well be touching you now. no, scratch that. he is touching you now as his finger softly brushes over your clothed cunt. you hiss through your teeth, already sensitive. 

“what have you been thinking about, hmm?” your eyes linger on his hand still, half of it disappearing under your skirt. his fingers move deftly, still swiping against your pussy, on the insides of your thigh. “you’re drenched…”

the breath whooshes out of your lungs once the red light hits and george slides the underwear aside. 

“yeah?”

“please…” you all but beg, spreading your legs just a bit wider so his hand can fit better. slowly, leisurely, his fingers move through your folds, parting them and making you moan softly each time he brushes against your clit. 

the red light even allows him to look at you, but you’re far too gone to care what he sees—your eyes half shut, mouth parted and slack, parting further when his thumb presses against your lit. the cold metal of the ring brushes against warm skin, sending a shiver down your back, and you but thrust up. 

“can you–can you go faster?”

“my dirty girl,” he tsks, “you think i’m gonna get you off here? where anyone can see you?”

right. the people. not that you can be blamed for it, the outside world is the last thing on your mind. 

“we aren’t in a rush, are we?” his voice takes a low, mocking quality. it’s so unfair that he should know you this well. that he should know how desperate you are for a release. he isn’t in a rush only because you are. a minute more of this teasing, and you might just lose your mind. 

“i’ll be—”

a horn cuts you off and his eyes snap to the road, where the light, much to your frustration, has turned green once again. within moments george pulls his hand away, fingers just about coated with slick and places it back on the steering wheel. 

“no, no—”

“patience, baby…” he uses the voice he always does when he wants you to obey. it’s the voice that rings around in your head. “i’ll get back to you if you sit patiently.”

and just like that his attention is back to the road again. you huff, aching all over and trying not to replace his hand with yours. it won’t end well for you, if you did that. your thighs feel sticky and the leather of the seat rubs against your skin all wrong. everything is all wrong. craning your neck a little you try to see where the next red light is—suddenly that’s all you crave. suddenly your pulse spikes when you see a light turn green. 

but the traffic takes care of the rest, and george’s fingers are back at your cunt the moment the car comes to a standstill. 

“you’ll be good for me, won’t you?” he asks sweetly, pressing his thumb against your clit just hard enough that you lurch off your seat, squeezing your legs shut again. this is where his hand belongs, this is where it should stay.

“i’ll be good, i’ll be so… so g-good.” the words get harder the more he touches and teases, drawing a lazy eight around your clit and dipping his fingers in and out, never deep enough though. he always pulls them out just before, keeps you right on your toes. in turn, your fingers curl, long nails digging into the leather until it leaves half-moon shaped marks behind. 

if this keeps going, you might just tear through them…

“just a bit m-more… please, george,” you try begging again, not that it worked for you the first time but george relents just a little and pushes his fingers deeper. desperately you clench around him, whimpering and whining and pushing your hips up to take more of him. a second later, he wrenches his hand away, leaving you cold and empty.

tears of frustration brim on your lash line. you were so close, so close to feeling good, feeling floaty. the seat is soaked with your arousal now, and your fingers dig into the seat tight enough to leave your knuckles while. your heart hammers in your throat, head dizzy and swimming with thoughts of only his hands—his hands around your throat, choking the breath out of you. his hands on your ass, squeezing and kneading the skin, hands gripping your hips, your thighs tightly. leaving bruises. 

“shh, baby… you’re doing so well,” his gravelly voice interrupts the train of thoughts and you realise you’ve been squirming and moaning, trying to find at least a little friction from the seat but it’s utterly useless. “you’ll wait till the next red light, won’t you? my good girl.”

“your good girl,” you nod fervently, eager to prove how much you deserve his fingers, how much you deserve an orgasm. george looks at you quickly, smiling in a way that makes his face look sharp and smug and goes back to driving. if it weren’t for the bulge in his jeans, you would have been convinced that this doesn’t affect him at all. 

you almost close your eyes, swallowing harshly to get rid of the tears clogging your throat. you almost even manage to calm yourself down just a smidge, when the car stops again. this time, you barely get a moment’s notice before fingers thrust inside you, deep. all the way in, hitting the sweet spot. your back arches all the way off the seat and you cry out his name. you gulp in large breaths, trying not to pass out at the sudden onslaught of pleasure. 

it’s like he’s turned the dial up from zero to one hundred, pumping his fingers in and out of you, thumb pressed against your clit. his body is twisted to look at you, lips hovering so close to the shell of your ear. once or twice he even nips the soft skin, earning himself yet another cry. 

“yes, yes, that’s it… that’s…”

“yeah? that’s it? am i doing good, baby?”

he is, he knows he is. you feel like you’re on cloud nine, completely forgetting about the other cars outside along with the heat and traffic and every other thing that frustrated you not even an hour ago. the only frustration you know is the frustration of not getting to cum. 

“words, sweet girl,” he taunts, “am i doing good?”

“so good… so good…”

george tsks. “but what if i’m not done with you yet, hmm?”

you can almost hear the pout in his voice, the undercurrent of smugness, and this time you see it coming before he pulls away. 

“no no no nooo, george!” it’s the most frustrated you’ve ever been, shaking and crying, edged over and over again, and at his mercy. every time he pulls away it’s like your body’s doused with ice cold water, each time more tears fall down your cheeks. your mascara must be a mess by now, lipstick smudged by how much you’ve bit your lips.

“you’re mean,” you pout at him and george laughs. he actually laughs!

“do you want me to stop th—”

“no!” you cry out, scared that he’d really stop. scared that you’d have to sit here in a limbo, aching so desperately between your legs and not being able to do anything about it. but at the next red light, george takes mercy on you. 

his fingers hover right over your clit, flicking it swiftly before they’re inside you again. the metal of his rings stings against your skin, digging into the sensitive skin. if anything, the mix of pain and pleasure is all the more heedy, dizzying. your head falls back, back still arched off the seat until your hips are moving of their own accord, rutting and grinding against his hand, riding his fingers. you try to match his pace. 

it’s too much, too much, too much.

“pretty baby,” he coos, “look so good riding my fingers, look so good when you’re desperate for me like this.”

desperate is exactly what you are. you finally place your hand over his, pushing his thick fingers deepers. to your surprise, george even lets you. the rough calluses provide just the right amount of friction. his name is the only thing you can chant over and over again, moaning to the rhythm of his fingers. 

“please, please, wanna cum. please george…”

you know the light's about to turn green, you don’t have much time. you know if he denies you again, you might just lose whatever hold you have on your sanity. george places a kiss on your jaw, lips warm against your skin, his stubble almost scratchy. then his mouth hovers right above your ear. 

“since you asked so sweetly…” 

your entire body tenses at his words, pussy clenching around his fingers so hard until your can practically feel the rings inside you. pleasure swims through your whole body and your vision turns white. the next thing you feel is something wet and sticky sliding under your ass, coating his hands and george continues to finger you. 

your legs shake and tremble with the force of the orgasm, stars flare in front of your closed eyelids and you grip onto his hand, keeping it buried deep between your legs, riding it until the dizzying waves of pleasure subside. grinding on it until you can finally slow down and open your eyes again. 

two seconds later, the light turns green again and he has no choice but to pull away. his fingers leave a trail of your release on the steering wheel. 

“can i clean you up?” you ask sweetly, batting your eyelashes at him even though he’s trying to focus on the road. doesn’t matter though, his hands look just as delicious as before and you can’t help but stick his fingers in your mouth, suck on them, swirling your tongue around the digits until all you can taste is your release. the salty taste of it sits on your tongue and you pushing his fingers in deeping, almost gagging around them, till your lips touch the cold rings.

“fuck,” george curses under his breath when you let go of them and swerves the car, taking the exit he’s just seen. 

“what are you doing?”

“going to find a hotel for us, sweet girl.” he mumbles, shifting in the seat, trying to adjust his very obvious bulge. “haven’t gotten enough of you just yet.”

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