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1-800-local-slut · 1 year ago

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this literally changed my life, watered my crops, cleared my skin and everything

WILDEST DREAMS | MATTHEW GRAY GUBLER

While directing a new film, Matthew becomes infatuated with you, the lead actress, and he’s having a hard time not making it obvious.

Word Count: 4k.

Warning/Includes: Age gap, pining, smut.

The best thing to do is be casual. Calm, collected, cool. You’re not doing anything wrong. In fact, you’re not really doing anything at all. It’s all in the walk - slow, steady strides - you don’t want to look too eager. Keep your head up high, only glance down for a moment at a time, keep your hands busy.

Play the part.

As your knuckles lightly rasp on the trailer door, you look around, fanning yourself with the stack of paper in your hand. When you turn back around, Matthew is opening the door and this grand, bright smile stretches across his entire face the moment he sees you.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hey,” you grin, tilting your head. “Wanted to go over something in the script with you. Do you have a second?”

Only taking a beief moment to look around the barren lot, Matthews eyes fall back on you, and there’s a certain spark in them as he says, “Of course. Of course, come in.”

“Thanks,” you tell him as you step inside.

And then the door is locked and the script is on the floor and you’re straddling his lap, your mouth open so he can stick his tongue inside of it. Your fingers tangle themselves in his curls, your nails scratching his scalp. He makes this soft purring noise, but his hold on your waist is tight, his nails digging through the fabric of your shirt and into your skin. With a roll of your hips, he’s left gasping for air and his hands begin to wander, trailing from your waist to your thigh. His fingertips creep towards the apex of your hips and you tighten them around his waist. It’s at this point that you grab onto his wrists and you’re well aware that he doesn’t have to let you pin them behind his head, he could easily stop you. If he wanted to. He doesn’t. He wants to do absolutely whatever you want.

Matthew’s head rolls back and you take the opportunity to plant gentle kisses on his neck. He wonders if you know how much friction you’re creating between your bodies, but then he feels your nails sink into the skin on his wrist, the vibration of a quiet moan against his neck, and he knows the answer. He has the impulse to touch you, but he’s weak underneath your body and he goes limp as your tongue traces his jaw.

“God, you’re killing me,” he mumbles.

You giggle, the sound echoing in his ear before you kiss his cheek, “So dramatic.”

“I’ll do anything,” he begs, and his breath catches in his throat, your nose nuzzled against his.

“Mhm...”

“Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it. Anything.”

Looking into his eyes, you slowly release your grip on his wrists and place your hands on his face, “Just kiss me,” you whisper. His arms wrap back around your waist and he does. He just kisses you.

By the end, when you’ve hopped off of his lap and begun applying your lipgloss, he’s watching you in a daze. His eyes scan over you from head to toe and it raises goosebumps on your skin.

“[y/n],” he calls.

“Mm-hmm?” you hum, checking your reflection.

“You know, I’m kinda in love with you, right?”

You burst into laughter and roll your eyes, “L. O. L.”

“Why is that funny?”

“You’re hilarious.”

“I’m so dead serious. We-we could do stuff.”

“Stuff? What kinda stuff?”

“Like,” he shrugs. “Maybe a little dating, a little marriage, some kids…something like that, I don’t know.”

“Mmm, but how would that look?” you ask, tilting your head at him.

“What do you mean?”

“It would look like I submitted my cooch as an audition tape and I didn’t. I dont want people to think this was a hand out. I earned it, right?”

“Of course,” he rises to his feet and steps towards you, “Of course. I would never-never wanna take away from that, I just-“

“And it’s the whole thing of it all, you know that. You’re the director, I’m the lead actress, plus you’re like, a senior citizen.”

He cackles, “That’s never bothered you before.”

“And I’m focused on this movie.”

“Oh, me too. Definitely, me too. Of course, me too…..you just, um…make it a little bit…harder.”

“Hm, I see that,” you smirk, glancing down at his crotch.

He laughs, his arms reaching out for you, his face nearing yours, and you put your hand to his chest. Push him away, “Chill. I just reapplied my lipgloss.”

He rolls his eyes as you pick up the script from the floor and flash him a smile. “Okay,” you huff. “Back to work,” then you plant a kiss on your fingertips and mush your hand into Matthew’s cheek.

He tries to pull you in, but you slide your wrist out of his grasp and you’re gone.

Your costar - Sam - he’s cute. Okay, Sam is very cute. Sam is cute in a way that you thought they didn’t make men anymore. He’s pretty, but he doesn’t know it. He takes everyone else’s word for it. He’s kind, respectful, talks to you like a human being. There’s a spark between you two that is, truly, the core of creating a solid movie. It makes all the kissing and the touching much easier. Sam is a good guy. If your type were age appropriate, Sam would definitely be your type. You would totally fuck Sam.

But Matthew’s your type, if you’re being honest. You want to fuck Matthew. You want to fuck Matthew very, very much and that’s going to make this sex scene a lot harder. But for the sake of professionalism, you bite the inside of your cheek, ground yourself in the moment. Matthew makes eye contact with you from behind the camera and he gives you a quick wink. It gets your engine started, just enough so that when he calls “Action!” you close your eyes and think of him.

This is the longest three and a half minutes of Matthew’s life. It’s not suspicious that he’s watching you so closely, but the way he’s pinching the skin on his wrist is certainly not helping.

Fake sex with Sam is fun and you will certainly feel different about him afterwards. He moves against you in a certain way and you have to keep this euphoric look on your face for every camera angle and your brain is like well, alright then, maybe Sammy Boy is an option.

Then, Matthew yells. “Cut!”

And your body comes to a complete halt, your breathing returns to normal. You catch a glimpse of Matthew and your brain goes: Oh, yes. Him.

“You okay?” Sam asks you, keeping you at arms length.

“Yes,” you nod, giving him a genuine smile. “Yes. Are you?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he nods. He holds out his hand and you both laugh as he gives you a firm handshake.

Cast and crew agree it was perfect straight shot and Matthew just approves with a thumbs up. You wonder if he’ll comment more but when he doesn’t, you just shrug it off, put on a robe, put your arm around Sam and walk off set with him.

When everyone starts to leave for the day, you walk past Matthew’s trailer and he pokes his head out the door, “Nice performance today, [y/n],” he waves.

You turn to him and laugh, “Thanks? Perv.”

“Why do you hurt me this way?”

“I’m going home. See you tomorrow,” you wave.

And as you walk away, he says, “I’ll be counting down the minutes,” and you have to keep going like you didn’t hear it.

It’s another 2 months before the movie is finished filming and the wrap party is that Friday. Matthew has been trying his best to keep some distance from you, but he finds himself texting you to find out if he’ll see you tonight. He’s tired of looking at you through a lense. It’s done, it’s over, it’s in post production. You don’t have to let his tongue in your mouth, but he hopes maybe he can hold your hand. Give you a hug.

Matthew’s not sure when you’ll arrive at the party until you’re there. You already have a beer in your hand and you’re grinning as you walk up to him. He takes you in this real tight side hug and you rest your head on his shoulder.

“You look nice,” he whispers in your ear.

“So do you,” you tell you. “I like this suit.”

He lets out a long sigh, “Thank you,” he chuckles. “Thank you, I thought you might.”

You hold his gaze for a moment and then seperate your bodies before you absolutely lose your mind.

You mix and mingle. You take pictures. A lot of pictures. You knock back a few drinks and by the time people have started clearing out, you’re cackling with Sam and other cast members out on the patio.

Matthew comes by to say goodnight to everyone and you all wave to him with a loud, collective “Bye!”

He goes around giving handshakes and hugs and when he gets to you, he leans down and wrap his arm around you. Your face nuzzles into his neck and he rubs your back softly. When he releases you, you can still smell him.

“Bye, [y/n],” he smiles and you can tell he wants to touch your face. But he doesn’t.

He leaves and you can still smell his minutes later. You take a deep breath, tell everyone you’re going to the bathroom, get up, and once you’re sure no one can see you, you run.

You catch Matthew as he’s hoping in his car and you call out his name. His heart stops and he turns to you, jaw dropped just slightly. “Hi, gorgeous.”

You chuckle under your breath, “Hi.”

Your face feels hot and tense, like you’re trying to keep yourself from grinning too much. “Can I have a ride?” you ask.

He not only drives you home, but he lets you control the music. He regrets the decision immediately.

“Don’t be such a grandpa!” you scold him.

“I’m-I’m not! I just don’t understand why it’s so…loud? And angry! Oh, my god…”

“Yeah.”

“I do sound like a grandpa.”

“Yeah,” you laugh, throwing your head back. “But I’m into it.”

He blushes, bites down on his lip, “What’d you think of Link’s speech? Too sappy, right?”

“It wasn’t until he cried.”

Matthew laughs, “Yeah, he’s a softie, but this movie is his baby.”

“Yours too, kinda.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I can’t believe filming is already over.”

“Gonna miss me?”

“Fuck, [y/n]…come on, I miss you all the time. I’m kinda in love with you, remember?”

You roll your eyes, shake your head, “Over here. On the left.”

He turns into your parking deck and you unbuckle your seatbelt. You reach over his body, your knees tucked in the seat as you type in your passcode. Matthew’s eyes are wide and his hands are limp on the steering wheel. His eyes linger on your waist and your thighs. The gate opens and you plop back down in your seat and he drives off like nothing happened. He parks in a corner near the elevator and you look over at him, “Thank you.”

“Of course. Anytime. Anything-Anything you need.”

You smile at him.

“Y’know,” he says. “You can call me. You can text me and we can see each other, outside of press stuff and stuff. If you ever just-just wanna talk. I’m here, I’m here for that, for anything.”

You nod your head at him, slowly, your eyes scanning him up and down, lingering on his shaky hands. You lean over and unbuckle his seat belt. Confused he lets it slide off of his body and he follows your lead as you grab his opposite wrist and pull it towards you. You lean back in your seat and pull your dress over your thighs. You pull back your lace underwear and stick Matthew’s hand in it.

“Oh.” he says.

You arch your back, just slightly, his fingertips grazing your clit.

“What-what do I do?” Matthew asks.

You shrug, look up at him with dreary eyes, “Whatever feels right, I guess.”

And he moves his body closer to you, lowers his hand in your panties and rubs your clit. Soft, slow circles that make your eyes flutter shut. You spread your legs as far as they’ll go and he dips a finger inside of you, swims around in the flood. You grip onto the edge of your seat and Matthew touches the tip of his nose to yours. As he catches you in a kiss, his fingers slide into you and you can feel every inch. They curl in towards your belly and you whine against his lips, grinding your hips against his palm.

Matthew’s thumb pops into your mouth, his forehead pressed against yours, his wrist moving to match the rhythm of your hips. Choking on your moans, you widen your mouth, letting him slide two fingers towards the back of your throat. You can feel him watching you, but with every movement of his fingers, you’re nearing the brink and you can barely function.

He pinches your face between his fingers, covering your cheeks in your own saliva. Your groans echo around the small space, breaking up into choppy cries as Matthew increases his force, pushing his fingers as deep as they’ll go. You grip onto both of his wrists and whimper through gritted teeth, your thighs tightening around his hand.

“Fuck,” you gasp. “Oh, fuck!”

With his hand around your throat, Matthew makes you come so hard that you’re entire body spasms, your hips riding it out on his hand until you go completely weak.

“Oh, look at you,” he whispers, his voice soft and dreamy as he pushes your hair back, touches your face. He pulls his fingers out of you and sucks on them, moaning at the taste of you. You grab onto his arm and dazedly begin to nibble on his forearm. At certain points near his elbow, you sink your teeth in really deep, taking a moment to feel his skin in your mouth. The pain makes him gasp underneath his breath, but he doesn’t mind. He likes the view. You take three of his fingers in your mouth and moan as they hit the back of your throat.

Matthew hooks on by your bottom teeth, leans in and tells you, “If you want me, I’m right here…I’m right here…”

And you fix your panties, fix your dress, gives him one last kiss on the knuckles. “Thanks for the ride.”

He nods, “Anything for you. Anything.”

When the movie premiere, everyone is anxious. Everyone. No one is exempt. There are, however, those that handle it better than others. You, being those, and Matthew, being others. When he sees you, standing there in your pretty dress, looking like an angel, he rushes over to you and takes you into a hug.

“Oh,” you whisper, chuckling, “Oh, Matthew.”

“I’m about to piss myself.”

“Please don’t.”

“How are you not freaking out right now?” he asks, holding you under his arm as he looks at you.

“Someone’s gotta stay calm so you can freak out.”

“Did it hurt?”

“Oh don’t do this-“ you roll your eyes.

“When you fell from heaven?”

“I need to walk the carpet, you do, too. C’mon.” And you hold his hand.

He can’t believe it, you hold his hand!

There’s all sorts of mixing and matching that goes into the photos. You take a lot with Sam, a handful with the rest of the cast and only a few with Matthew and the rest of the crew. The energy is high and light. The interviews are positive and everyone is smiling.

You sit, you hope, you pray that this is the tone for the rest of the night.

And then the movie ends with a standing ovation.

And the energy gets even higher. You are a star. People clamor around you and Sam like royalty and you guys humbly accept it all. You ride back to the hotel with Sam and a few others, a bottle of champagne and music blasting through the speakers.

“[y/n]!” Sam calls as you part ways. “More drinks in the lobby?”

“For sure! I’m going to change into more celebrity casual, I’ll be right there!”

He laughs and waves as you head up the elevator.

You step into your hotel room and drop the key on the kitchenette counter. You stand in the center, just underneath the big, bright chandelier. And you dance. You jump. Your cheer. You nearly fall to yours knees and then there’s a knock on the door.

You skip over and open it to find Matthew, a big smile on his face and a bouquet of flowers in his hand. You don’t even think about it, you just jump into his arms and the two of your erupt into joyous laughter. He carries you into your room, lets the door shut behind you and places your flowers down.

“The times. The post!” he exclaims. “Everyone is talking about you.”

“Shut up,” you shake your head, your hands pressed to his chest.

“No, you shut up!” he embraces you, laughing as he says, “They like you! They really, really like you!” He looks down at you, your eyes laced with happy tears, and he pushes your hair back. “I…” he whispers. “Really, really like you.”

You smile at him, reach up and run your hands through his curls. You nuzzle your body into his and your eyelids get heavy as you breathe him in. You lift yourself up on the tip of your toes and give him a kiss. Then another kiss. Then another. And you drive yourself into him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pushing your tongue into his mouth. You back him up against a wall and he gasps, “[y/n]-mm…oh, god…” he hands wanders around your body, gripping onto your ass. “What are you doing?”

You moan, throw your head back, “Just-fuck-take this dress off of me,” you order, holding his face in your hands as you peck at his lips.

“Okay, okay, okay,” he whispers. “Slower…” he tells you. His fingers push the spaghetti straps off of your shoulders and he gives you a nice, long kiss, “Slower, slower…”

You let him steadily roll the straps down your arms, feel the curves of your body as he pushes the dress past your hips. Leaving you in just your bra and panties, he takes you in his arms and loses his breath between your mouths.

He sweeps you up in his arms and your legs wrap around his torso. He drops you onto the bed and you chuckle as you bounce in the air. He leans over and you help him take his jacket off, throw it onto the floor. As he gives you a sloppy kiss, you unbutton his shirt, feels around his chest. He unhooks your bra and pulls it off, his tongue wet all over your jaw and collar and chest.

Matthews lips wrap around your nipple and your head rolls back, your hands tangled in his hair. He leaves a slimy trail down your stomach and looks up at you as he slides your panties down your legs.

“Oh, my god…” he whispers. He looks down at you, touching you all over, flat, warm, open palms on your breasts and ribs. “You’re so beautiful. So, so beautiful,” and he falls to his knees. He holds your legs open and starts to eat you off. Soft, slow, with a strong hold on your thighs. He buries his face between your legs and laps at you like he’s dehydrated.

You purr, pull at his hair, arch your back as you grind against his face. The noises you make come out jumbled and strained and Matthew can’t get enough. He hums against you, speeding up his tongue to bring you to the edge. You squeal and you squirm, but Matthew keeps you locked in place. You grip onto his arms, digging your nails into the flesh. You mutter soft, stuttering profanities, your throat raw from all the noise.

When you come, Matthew is moaning, loving the way your hold tightens around his face and your hands tug at his hair. As he returns to kiss you, you push his shirt off of his body and undo his pants. With his pants and boxers kicked off, he just falls straight into you and it’s like the whole earth shakes. You cry out, wrapping your arms around him. He breathes shakily into your ear, his hands getting under your thighs, pushing your knees to your chest.

The bed rocks back and forth as he pounds you, his eyes trained on you, your moans loud enough to shatter glass. You are absolutely everything he ever imagined you to be and more. So, so much more. You wrap around his dick in just the right way and his head falls back, his mouth falls open and his says your name on this broken, breathy loop. “[y/n], [y/n], oh, fuck, [y/n], baby.”

He watches you rub your clit in fast, hard circles, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. He moves into you harder, faster, leaning in so he can hear your moans in his ear. You grip onto his shoulder and then his hair and then his throat and he peers into your eyes. He’s trying to hold on, to savor the moment, to keep you here. Just like this. But your thumb runs over his cheekbone and he breaks down and his face softens and he dissipates into these weak whimpers.

“Y-you going to come, baby?” he asks you, feeling your thighs twitch and tighten against his body.

“Y-yes,” you moan. “Fuck, yes.”

He kisses you, grunting against your lips as he uses his body to carve you out like marble, folding you in half, thrusting himself as deep as he can because he can tell how much you love it.

“C’mon, [y/n], come for me,” he groans in your ear. “Please, please, please, please.”

Your fingers work tirelessly on your clit and with one good move inside of you, you crumble. You pull Matthew close, spread your legs and let him fuck you through it. He’s talking to you, he’s telling you that you’re amazing, that you’re incredible, beautiful, sexy and you’re screaming too loud to hear any of it.

He had been waiting for you to let himself go and he stares at you the entire time he comes. You moan as you feel it splatter all over your stomach, your chest. You chuckle, wiping some off with your finger and popping the digit into your mouth, “Oh, fuck.”

Matthew laughs and crashes on top of you, holding your face as he kisses you. “Come on,” he orders, hopping up.

“Huh?”

“I’m taking you on a date.”

“Right now?” you prop yourself up. “You don’t think we’re going in the wrong order here?”

“Oh, duh, right,” he says and suddenly he picks you up and tosses you over his shoulder. “We’ve gotta shower first.”

And as you laugh on the way to the bathroom, Matthew squeezes you real tight. Real, real tight, thinking:

Finally.

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