#d word matty

[toomuchracket]

the only way you can prevent the air strike is to write a blurb of beard!matty in a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up eating you out and soft-dom shushing you sweetly and the beard scratches so good

he calls on his way home from the studio and you can tell he sounds stressed so you're like "i'll roll a joint for you if you like", and he laughs softly like "i fucking love you. but could you just put on something hot and wait in bed for me instead, my darling? please?" - he actually bites his fist when he gets home and sees you lying there in a new sheer white lingerie set, and he's so desperate that he can only hold back long enough to roll up his shirt sleeves and tell you to take your panties off before he crawls up the bed and spreads your legs. usually, matty likes drawing the experience out, tracing over your cunt and clit with his tongue and dipping it inside you, but he's too het up today to bother with that; from the outset, he's licking into you enthusiastically, practically making out with your clit, only pulling back enough to groan "take those perfect tits out, need to fucking see them" and reaching up to grab them while he eats you like he's been starved. you kinda love how feral he is, to be honest - matty bloody knows what he's doing, and the beard against your thighs is leaving you burning in a really delicious way (what!! you love it when he marks you!!) - but it's also really lovely how sweet he gets after you've cum a couple of times and continuing to go down on you just becomes a vanity project for him. like you said, he's shushing you when you get a little bit too whiney in a "daddy, m'sensitive" kinda way - he thumbs at your clit when he moves back to talk to you, kissing your inner thighs and cooing "s'alright, sweetheart, breathe for me. stop whining, yeah? relax. enjoy it. know you can take a few more orgasms, can't you, gorgeous? yeah, s'right, course you can, that's a good girl", and goes back to eating you out until your legs shake and your hips won't stop jerking and his face is a little bit sore from how hard he went. of course, he moves up to kiss you and thank you for letting him do that, sweet boy, laughing and going "oh, alright then. flip over, princess" when you slide your hand down to feel him up and bite your lip in a wordless plea for him to fuck you properly (which he does. hard). dreamy <3

[tillthelandslide]

Guys... I got some chain Matty requests and damn... they're anon but whoever sent them in, thank you 🙏🏼 they're good (I'm not even working on requests but... I think I might have to do these)

[toomuchracket]

does lyla get freaked out when matty shaves the beard? I love when babies get spooked by their dad being a new person

she's so funny actually because when she's tiny he's always got facial hair to some degree, like at least stubble if not a proper moustache or a bit of a beard, and the first time she sees him completely clean-shaven she's like 😟 and a little bit hesitant to properly cuddle him and grab his face like she usually does (which he loves lol) - she gets over it pretty quickly, because she knows it's "only daddy, munchkin! just me, yeah?", but much like matty she cannot keep her opinions from showing in her facial expressions and as such it's BLATANTLY obvious that she likes matty more when he's unshaven. a little bit of stubble seems to get the best reaction from her, at least for the time being (you reckon it's either a familiarity thing or she finds the feeling of it interesting when she's pulling at his face like play-doh), which like... yeah, she's her mother's daughter lmfao; matty's lowkey convinced you've somehow trained her into reacting the way she does, because he knows you find him most appealing like that too, but she genuinely just has good taste lol. and in terms of matty's actual hair... your baby girl is totally unfazed by any changes. takes after her dad in that regard <3

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Beard matty taking care of Lyla omg

glasgow matty... yes

that's him when lyla starts babbling a little bit too loud to him while they're hanging out at the playmat in her room - he's like "shhhhhh, munchkin, mummy's sleeping! we're letting her sleep in a bit longer today, remember? but not too long, cos she's getting her hair done later and she'll be sad if she misses it. you know she hasn't had it done since you were in her tummy? mental. she's gonna look sooooooo beautiful when we pick her up - i mean, you and i both know mummy always looks beautiful, but she's gonna be extra pretty when we see her after our day out. which reminds me, i think we should buy her a present today. sound good? yeah, knew you'd agree with me, my smart girl". and they have such a cute day, while you get pampered! they go for a coffee after they drop you at the salon (well, matty has coffee, and lyla fucks up one of those little juice yoghurt pouch things lol), and then spend a few hours at the museum before lyla gets sleepy and matty takes her home for a nap; she's snuggled into his chest in the baby carrier, so he makes a point of turning to the side so she can see everything and yaps to her about it all, bless them, and then they buy you a cool little notepad and one of those bracelets made out of quartz in the gift shop (and obv lyla makes grabby hands for the plush toys so she gets one of those teehee). it's a very lovely day for everyone, and when you all get home lyla takes great delight in both tugging at your pretty hair and babbling along while her dad tells you about their little day out, which is just the cutest. love <3

[toomuchracket]

girl of your dreams (d word matty x reader smut)

early days of the relationship, sneaky post-show hotel room sex. warnings for d word mention (duh), exactly one (1) spank, matty going down soft sound, unprotected sex (girly is on the pill tho), and creampies. enjoy <3

“yeah, yeah, goodnight,” matty smiles as his bandmates disappear into their respective rooms, entering his own when the locking mechanism clicks open. he's used to that sound now, used to quickly sliding the do not disturb hanger onto the handle, used to kicking his shoes off and placing the keycard near the door and yawning as he turns the corner into the bedroom proper.

what he's not used to, however, is seeing you there, sprawled out on his bed watching tv, wearing your glasses and a champagne-coloured satin nightgown that quite honestly makes him go weak in the knees.

he wants to get used to it, though. really, really wants to. he's determined to, actually. but first, he's determined to make up for being later to your rendezvous than planned. “hi, darling,” he smiles (how could he not, looking at you?), shrugging his jacket off en route to the bed. “i'm so sorry it took me so long to get here.”

“s'alright, baby, i understand. newcastle show and all,” you crawl to the end of the bed to meet him, and the way your tits swing as you do affects him almost as much as the pet name does; both of these things pale in comparison to the way you kiss him, though, all soft lips and quiet sighs, hand coming up to hold his face while you smile into him. when the kiss ends, you press your forehead to matty's, and it takes all his focus not to swoon. “your family are lovely, by the way. ‘specially your dad.”

matty laughs softly. “yeah, he was telling me how canny he thinks you are. says i should be paying you extra for the fact you're the one waking me up every morning.”

“oh, no, i like the kiss currency thing we've got,” you giggle, pressing one to his nose and sending his heart racing. “but were you really that much of a nightmare when you were little?”

“christ, yeah. he didn't detail it?”

“no, he was very sweet. maybe he was trying to make you seem cool,” your pretty face shifts into a smirk, and matty braces himself for the inevitable. “i mean, your family are all so concerned with when you plan on settling down - maybe he was trying to make you seem appealing to me.”

“take it you heard them asking me if i was seeing anyone, then?”

“yeah. was funny,” you peck his lips. “and your answer was very good.”

matty hums, thinking back to the there's someone, yeah, but she's too good for me so i'm playing it cool right now he'd placated his family with. which, to be honest, isn't a total lie. “good, good,” he gently lowers you so you're lying on the bed, crawling atop you and resting his arms on either side of your head; yours rest on his shoulders, pretty nails gently scratching at the back of his head the way he likes. “and was my dad successful?”

“at making you appeal to me? oh, yeah,” the playfulness in your eyes is addictive. “i’m really quite fond of you, matthew.”

god, the way you say his name! “feeling's mutual, gorgeous,” matty leans back, letting his calloused hands lightly skim up the sides of your torso. “love this outfit, by the way.”

“m'glad. bought it with you in mind,” the revelation sends matty reeling, and it's only worsened by what comes next. “dunno if you could call it an outfit, though.”

“why not?”

you smile, sweet as sugar. “because i'm not actually wearing anything else, darling.”

jesus christ. blood rushing in his ears, matty stutters out a response. “you serious?”

a nod, a suggestive bite of your own fingertip. “see for yourself.”

what a fool he would be to do otherwise. blood still pumping in his ears, and travelling more towards his trousers by the nanosecond, matty drags himself down your body and settles himself on the bed between your - fucking gorgeous - legs. with something almost resembling trepidation, he slowly pushes the silk up your thighs, jaw dropping in a groan as he takes in the enticing wetness pooling between them on your cunt. “fucking hell, sweetheart,” he moans, hand tracing up your slit and circling your clit as if on instinct, making you jerk with a whine and his dick jump as a result. when he brings his fingers to his lips and the delectable tang of you hits his tongue, matty's necessary next step becomes crystal clear. “please, please let me eat you out.”

your reply nearly makes him cum there and then - another thing matty's still unused to is the new nickname you've been trying out together, but it isn't half fucking incredible. “yes, daddy.”

matty thinks he breathed out a “thank you” as soon as the words left your lips, but he can't be sure; the only thing he can focus on is getting his mouth on you, licking upwards to your clit before wrapping his lips around the bundle of nerves and flicking over it with the tip of his tongue, just the way he was elated to discover you like. he can't help but moan into you when he hears your little whimper of “oh, just like that, yeah”, smiling when you moan louder in response and clamp your thighs around his head - a second later, when realisation seems to hit, you go to loosen your grip with a half-whined “m'sorry, daddy”, but matty just shakes his head (which has you moaning again as his tongue slices across your clit) and shuffles himself around so he can wrap his arms around your thighs and keep them there. not out of masochism - well, part of it is - but more out of the fact that your thighs locked around his head is proof that this is really happening, and he isn't just dreaming about going down on you like he did for months after first meeting you. 

of course, reality is so much better than those dreams: matty could never have imagined how good you actually taste when he's licking into you with nothing short of desperation, or how beautiful you look when you're all fucked-out, or the way your voice goes all shaky when you're about to cum. which, incidentally, is what's happening now - “m'close, daddy, m'so fucking close. wanna cum, please, please let me cum!”

seems as good a time as any for matty to take a breath, he thinks. pulling away from you just long enough to take in a lungful or air, he nods. “cum, princess.”

with a dazed smile so beautiful it breaks his heart a little bit, and a breathy “thank you”, you obey, body tensing and releasing a final time, accompanied by shaking limbs and broken whimpers of his name and his nickname and god only knows what else. matty kisses your inner thigh, resting his head on it and letting you come back down to earth in your own time; he likes watching you like this, anyway, worn-out from pleasure and a little bit haphazard. your hair's a mess, your glasses are askew (he's also far more into them than he initially thought, to be honest), and your nightgown is really quite crinkled, but he can practically feel the adoration for you emanating from himself. 

you're so beautiful. and you're his. he still can't quite believe it's not a dream.

you rake a hand through his sweaty curls, and he's reminded that this is all real. he kisses your thigh again, and you giggle. “hi.”

“hi, darling,” matty rubs a little loveheart on your thigh with his thumb. “how you feeling?”

“so good. thank you, gorgeous,” you smile, while matty's cheeks burn at the compliment. “how are you?”

“i'm good, angel, i'm really good.”

“tired at all?”

he shakes his head. “not really. but we can go to sleep now if you want,” he smirks when you shake your head enthusiastically. “no? there's something else you wanna stay up for… princess?”

you bite your lip, nodding. he huffs out a laugh. “need you to tell me what it is so we can do it, sweet girl. come on,” he pulls himself up slowly, pressing kisses up your stomach and resting his head on your tits. “tell daddy what you want.”

“i - oh, fuck,” you whimper as matty tugs down the top of your dress and mouths at your nipple. “want- want you to fuck me, daddy. please.”

he knew it was coming, and yet matty still feels heat trickle down his chest right to his dick when you speak. “good girl. and how do you want to be fucked, princess?”

“in front of the mirror,” your voice is clear, sure, sexy; it crumbles when you talk again, but matty thinks your secret desire is even hotter. “wanna watch.”

the next few minutes are a blur to matty, which he reckons he would put down to some weird primitive horny instinct to just fuck you as soon as he can. he remembers kissing you, but nothing about how he got you on your hands and knees before the mirror or undressed himself; post-kiss, the only thing he can focus on is the feeling of inching inside your soaked cunt, watching your eyes roll back into your head, listening to the choked moan that leaves your kiss-bitten lips as he bottoms out inside you with a murmured “fuck”. he kisses your shoulder, smiling into your summer-scented skin at the way you giggle deliriously. “feel so good around me, baby. you want me to fuck you now?”

“please,” your jaw slackens as matty starts to move his hips; when he speeds up, groaning at how wet you are, how brain-meltingly tight, you whimper, and he has to force himself not to cum then and there. “daddy…”

“i know, sweetheart, i know. doing so well for me,” matty coos, eyes fixated on the reflection of your tits bouncing in the genuinely most perfect way with every thrust. christ, he's really lucked out with you, hasn't he? sweet, smart, fucking gorgeous… he's punching well above his weight. “my beautiful girl. want me to get you off again, princess?”

you nod, whimpering when his hand meets your asscheek; as he rubs the stinging skin, matty sighs. “words, baby, come on.”

“sorry, daddy. yes please.”

he leans forward to kiss the nape of your neck, moving to whisper in your ear. “good girl.”

his hips speed up, so much so that he can already feel the muscle aches he'll wake up with tomorrow. but it's more than worth it to see you like this, to make you like this, wanton and writhing and whining every time your bodies meet; the way you're beginning to clench around him in the way matty's learned is a sign that you're about to cum spurs him on, too, desperate to get you off and chase his own release. “c'mon, princess,” he pants, gripping your hips as tight as possible to keep up momentum. “need you to cum for me, yeah? cum, and i'll fill you up. know you fucking love it when i do that, don't you? love being a good girl for daddy.”

“yeah,” comes the broken cry in response. your cheeks are stained with mascara tears, streaming from your hazy eyes, and your whole body appears to be shaking - suddenly, it tenses, and matty hisses at the feeling of you vice-tight around his dick. “m'cumming, oh fuck, fuck!”

there's an influx of warmth and wetness around him, and matty can't help but follow in your footsteps. “shit, me too,” he moans, brain foggy but body still slamming into yours, syncopated now; he clings to you as he cums, eyes rolling back into his head as he finishes deep inside your cunt. your arms give out, and matty follows your fall onto the bed, draping himself over you without pulling out and pressing his lips to the back of your neck. “jesus christ, princess, you're so good,” he kisses your cheek when you giggle, a sweetness incongruous with the fact he can feel his cum dripping out of you. “y'alright?”

“yeah,” you turn to catch his lips with yours, a tender kiss that ends with you looking at him so adoringly he almost can't take it. “thank you, baby.”

“anytime. s'my pleasure. and yours, i s'pose.”

“you're so silly.”

“and you're into it.”

“i am, yeah,” you smile, and matty swears he can feel butterflies in his stomach. “i'm just very into you.”

“i feel the same about you,” matty strokes your hair, yawning. “shall we shower? or d'you wanna stay like this for a bit, darling?”

you beam. “wanna stay like this forever, matty. but,” you wink. “given that we're both working tomorrow, maybe we should limit it to, let's say, five minutes of this before we shower?”

god, he's so obsessed with you. “whatever you want, my girl.”

[toomuchracket]

ok yeah i wanna fuck him

[toomuchracket]

under the full moon (d word matty x reader fluff)

calling it fluff is misleading they are 3 seconds away from raw sex at all times in this fic. promptober, pre-dating, charli just cockblocked them (well, interrupted an almost-kiss) at new year... enjoy <3

“oi - why haven't you got a drink?”

you look up from your conversation with someone famous whose name you've already forgotten. george is frowning at you, usually-sharp eyes hazy with tipsiness; you're quite impressed at his commitment to his hosting duties in the midst of such inebriation, to be honest. “your missus dragged me in here and into a convo before i could get one, that's why.”

“that girl,” he shakes his head. suddenly, you're on your feet, being tugged towards the kitchen before you can even apologise to the actress - rachel? - you were chatting to. “come on. can't have you dehydrating.”

“there's no risk of that, george,” you grumble, stumbling along in an effort to keep up with him and his giraffe legs. christ, how does charli manage? “was out already, remember?”

“yeah, i know. matty wouldn't stop fucking moping about you not being here earlier.”

you beam.

“actually,” george continues. “he keeps moping whenever you're not around, to be honest,” he stops abruptly; only once you've bounced back from him do you notice his mischievous grin. “i think he fancies you.”

you beam even wider.

as if it's news to you, though - you did nearly just snog matty outside.

“don't tell him i told you that, though,” he's walking again. “he's battered me for doing that before.”

“tried to batter you, i assume.”

“exactly,” george pulls you into the kitchen, weaving through people and conversations and what you think is a drinking game, stopping when he reaches the fridge. “alright. what you drinking?”

you don't answer, too preoccupied with staring at matty across the room. a spike of jealousy spears you as you watch him talk to a charli and a girl you don't recognise, long dark hair trailing down her back, but you're appeased when he catches sight of you and smiles; you copy his expression, and neither of you break eye contact. that is, until george waves his hand in front of your face. “hellooooooo? anybody home?”

“fuck off, i was thinking.”

“making eyes at my best friend is what you were doing, actually.”

“you're seeing things, george. maybe you're going insane.”

“what d'you mean going?” matty's arm finds its way around your waist. “he's been insane as long as i've known him, darling.”

you rest your head on his shoulder. “well, i didn't want to be impolite.”

“sweet girl,” he presses a gentle kiss to your temple; you do your best not to swoon, and he turns to his best friend. “i'll sort her with a drink, mate, s'alright.”

“but thank you for bringing me through for one, george,” you squeeze his hand, and he smiles as he bids you goodbye and speedwalks off to god knows where. biting back a cheeser of a smile, you turn to matty, loosely slinging your arms around his neck. “hello again, gorgeous.”

“hi,” he replies softly, cheeks tinting pink under the spotlights in the ceiling - your body fizzes with excitement about the fact that you can elicit such a reaction from him. matty's hands move to rest on your hips, and it's your turn to blush. he smiles. “missed you after we came inside. where did you end up?”

“charli got me talking to a couple of people, s'all.”

“yeah, me too.”

“i saw,” you raise your eyebrows, playfully. “she trying to set you up?”

“dunno. wasn't paying attention,” his thumbs gently rub little circles into the satin of your dress. “was a bit preoccupied thinking about someone else.”

“yeah?”

“yeah,” he smirks. “what about you, pretty girl? she have you talking to boys she thinks you'd want?”

“nah, just a girl she thought i'd find cool. which she was right about,” you stretch, deliberately arching your body further into his and savouring the way his breathing changes. “but she would've been wrong if she'd had me chatting to boys like that,” your eyes flick to matty's slightly-parted lips, then back up to meet his gaze again. “you see… i want a man.”

matty exhales shakily. “god,” he half-laughs. “you're really fucking hot, you know. and,” he adds hurriedly. “you're beautiful. really. i mean, you're just… wow,” he grins. “gonna be thinking about this dress for a long time, trust me.”

“i hoped you'd like it. s'why i bought it.”

“babe,” matty rests his head on your shoulder, sighing happily (you hope so, at least) when you softly caress the back of his neck. he slowly lifts it up, whispering in your ear and making you shiver in the best possible way. “and i know this is forward, but… shall we go outside and finish what we started earlier?”

fuck.

“yeah,” you breathe, smiling as matty pulls away from you to take your hand. “oh, wait - i still don't have a drink.”

“i have wine,” there's a hint of desperation in matty's voice; he seems to realise this, clearing his throat and smiling bashfully. yeah, you're done for. “promised i'd have it, didn't i?”

nodding, you tap the handbag still hanging from your shoulder. “and i have cigs.”

“the perfect woman. shall we?”

you nod, and matty gently leads you towards the back door of the house (with a detour to the wine rack to grab a bottle of red), ushering you through throngs of people with a feather-light touch to your lower back; as soft as it is, the contact has butterflies emerging from cocoons in your stomach that you didn't know were there, and you're actually quite sad when he removes his hand to open the door for you. carefully watching your step in your heels, you exit into the garden, look up, and grumble. behind you, matty follows suit. “well, fuck.”

the garden is almost as packed as the house, cigarette and vape and joint smoke rising from the people below and disappearing in the moonlit sky - not quite the secluded romantic setting either you or matty had evidently imagined. scanning for any sort of uninhabited spot, you notice a slightly-hidden section of low garden wall, shielded from the rest of the outdoor space by an unkempt patch of hedge, and quickly tug matty towards it. he speeds ahead of you when he sees where you're headed, shucking off his suit jacket and laying it on the mossy wall. “there you go, sweetheart.”

“matty,” your eyes widen. “you can't lay your jacket there! that thing costs more than my rent!”

“first of all, you live in kentish town, so no it doesn't. second of all,” he sits, patting the fabric as a sign for you to join him. “the wall's fucking freezing, and you're wearing the shortest dress of all time and no tights. you need some sort of barrier, darling.”

huffing, you sit on the jacket. “s'not the shortest dress of all time.”

“i personally have no issue with the length. quite the opposite, actually,” matty winks, unscrewing the top of the wine and passing you the bottle. “sorry, i should've grabbed glasses.”

you shrug, taking a swig. “well, if i must share germs with someone here, you're the best choice,” giggling, you pass the bottle back to matty, and dig in your bag for your marlboros and lighter. “shall we?”

he nods, smiling; you love the way his eyes look, illuminated by the flame. “you do know how to make a man feel special, darling.”

you aren't sure how long you stay like that with matty, drinking and smoking and chatting and laughing. time moves differently when you're with him, the only way you can measure it being in disappearances - firstly of the wine in the bottle, then the four cigarettes you had left in that particular pack, and of the people leaving the garden in dribs and drabs. despite the ever-dwindling crowd nearby, neither you nor matty try to reenact the almost-kiss from earlier; both of you seem to sense something other than your bic lighter sparking here, and you're more than happy to keep kindling it through conversation than risking a wild blaze, or worse, a complete extinguishing. only when the early morning becomes too cold to bear do you go back inside, hand in hand and animated as you yap away.

matty's incredulous. “this is the classiest new year's event you've ever been to? this? look, darling - actually, don't,” he covers your eyes with his hand until you get back into the hallway. “someone clearly went too hard on the midori there.”

you wince. “awful stuff.”

“i'm with you on that one. you know i agreed to do body shots off ross after drinking it at a party once?”

“no.”

“oh, yeah,” he shudders. “far better in theory than in execution.”

“the shots as a concept? or the fact it was ross you were doing them with?” you tilt your head, smiling shyly when you catch yourself. “sorry. i've just never done body shots.”

matty stops dead in his tracks, turning to look at you in complete bewilderment. “are you serious?”

you nod.

“but… but you look like that!” he splutters, gesturing wildly to you. “nobody ever propositioned you to let them lick salt from you? really?”

“they did not,” you pause, face twisting into a smirk. “are you propositioning me for that, matthew?”

his jaw drops. it stays that way for a good few seconds, actually, before he blinks and gives a smirk of his own. “would you like it if i did?”

oh, the bastard. still - what's the use in lying? “i would. and,” you move to whisper in his ear. “i wanna get my tongue on you, too.”

he moans. actually moans. and while you're still reeling from that, he leans back, and shouts at the top of his voice. “george!”

the man in question comes skidding through. “what? what's wrong?”

matty grins. “have you got any tequila?”

***

“i cannot believe you're doing this with him.”

ross's wife - pregnant, therefore sober, therefore the only person who can be trusted with the components of the shot - carefully pours a little trail of salt onto the juncture of your neck and shoulder. you smile, hyper-aware of not moving and knocking the full shot glass tucked between your boobs or the lime wedge resting on the swell of the right one. “why?”

she hums. “i thought you had good taste.”

“don't make me laugh, i'll spill the shot!”

“sorry,” she smiles. “maybe we should get matty over here before that happens, yeah?”

“s'pose,” you take as deep a breath as your new accessories allow, as your friend steps to the side. “oi, healy!”

he turns away from his conversation with george and ross, pretty eyes lighting up when he sees you sat ready on the kitchen counter. four strides, and he's in front of you. “hi, darling. still wanna do this?”

you smirk. “wouldn't have a shot glass in my tits if i didn't,” your smile widens as his pupils do the same. “whenever you're ready, gorgeous.”

so quickly you don't have time to react, matty kisses your nose. “this, genuinely, is one of the greatest privileges of my life. thank you,” he leans back, breathing deeply as if to prepare himself, then slots himself between your legs. “right, here goes.”

time starts to move weirdly again, the second matty gets his tongue on you. at the first touch, your eyes close, something within you urging you to let your other senses take over for the experience; initially, you do, inhaling the heady mix of cologne and cigarette smoke that's just so characteristically matty, and getting goosebumps at the slow movement of his flat tongue against your neck. but then he moves, and you feel hot breath on your chest, and your eyes fly open to watch him duck down and take the shot glass between his lips. he's blushing, obvious from the heat of his cheeks against your tits, but the flirty confidence is there as always in his eyes when he leans back up to take the shot itself - by the time he leans back down to bite the lime on your tit, teeth grazing the soft skin, you think your cheeks must be even warmer than his. it isn't out of embarrassment, despite the fact that you're colleagues, or your entire friend group seems to be watching, but rather out of passion, a unique form of desire your body only reserves for matty and matty alone.

yeah, you're fucked.

your friends cheer as matty pulls the lime rind from his lips, setting it down with a smile and moving to look at you properly again. “how was that?”

“very, very fun. thank you, angel,” you pull him in for a hug, fighting the urge to press a soft kiss to his neck. “you're good with your mouth, matty,” leaning back, you look up at him with the biggest doe eyes you can muster. “can i show you how good i am with mine, now?”

surprisingly, he doesn't cave at that like you thought he might; instead, it's you who caves, heat bursting in your stomach when matty slides his thumb across your lips. he smiles. “let's do it.”

he's gone before you can respond, moving things off the kitchen table while you breathe shakily at the counter. of course, that isn't helped at all when matty unbuttons his shirt, throwing the fabric to ross (who grimaces) before draping himself on the table in a very delectable way. “salt!”

ross's wife rolls her eyes, but moves to help prepare matty the same way she did with you. charli staggers over to you, swigging champagne directly from the bottle - you take a swig of your own when she holds it to you, and she giggles. “what even the fuck is going on?”

“shots, babe.”

“yeah, i know,” she rolls her eyes. “but i mean, like, you and matty,” blinking, she looks over at the table. “you're about to lick salt off his stomach. s'a bit of a sexy thing to do with your friend.”

“well, he is my best friend.”

“you know what i mean!” she wails. “you're telling me you'd straddle your best friend, and lick him?”

you smirk, sneaky. “i'd straddle and lick matty, yeah.”

“jesus,” charli's head turns at the sound of both your names, and she shoves you towards the table. “well, now's the time.”

doing your best not to smile too widely, you wander over to stand beside the table matty's lying on. he really does look incredible like this, shirtless under the spotlights, salt dotted in little piles from his hip tattoo (slightly underhanded of him, you think) all the way up to the one adorning his chest, shot glass between his lips with a lime wedge balanced on top. incapable of resisting the urge to touch him, you stroke his hair. “hi, gorgeous. you ready?”

matty winks, humming out a laugh when you return the motion; the noise fades into something that could be a moan when you manage to pull yourself onto the table, crawling up just enough to be able to lean down and flatten your tongue against his hip, just like you've dreamt about for months. beside you, his hands clench and then clutch the table, and that sign that you've affected him spurs you on, has you deciding to crawl slowly up his body and collect all the salt in one continuous lick. you can't stop the little moan of satisfaction that leaves your lips, and it sends matty into overdrive - his chest heaves, moans of his own reverberating through it, and you actually hear your friends gasp (and shriek, in charli's case) and someone murmur something like “oh my god, i feel like i'm intruding” and several pairs of footsteps leaving the room; when the salt is gone, and you manage to detach your tongue from the delectable man below you, it becomes evident that you and matty are alone. alone, for the first time since your interrupted almost-kiss earlier.

fuck it. might as well take advantage of that.

with as saccharine a smile as you can muster, you “readjust” yourself on matty's lap, smile widening at the combination of the way matty's hands move to clutch at your hips and the feeling of him hardening beneath your (definitely wet) panties. placing a hand on either side of his head, you lean forward, slowly, grinning once again at the way his eyes flick between your chest and face; you hover over his lips for a moment, then take the glass from his with your own, throwing your head back (and grinding down on matty for good measure) as you swallow the tequila and bite the lime before laying the glass and rind down.

matty laughs, eyes sparkling. “you're a pro, darling,” his hands squeeze your hips, rubbing up across your waist and back down. “you're also a fucking minx, you know that?”

you shrug. “well, you had me sit on your lap. what else was i to do, really, babe?”

“m'glad you did all that, sweetheart. makes this next bit easier for me, knowing how much you want me,” he smiles, warm and sweet. “what are you doing this friday night?”

“oh, that's easy,” you take his hands. “i'm going on a date with you.”

matty beams. “too fucking right you are.”

[toomuchracket]

constellations (literal d word (dad) matty x reader fluff)

you have an eight year old who loves space. let's redecorate her bedroom! promptober day 18. enjoy <3

you're applying your moisturiser when matty pads back into the bedroom; he drops a kiss to the top of your head, and you smile. “babies asleep?”

“yeah. alex took a while to get there… oi, stop that!” he grumbles when you stand, smearing the excess lotion from the back of your hand across his face.

“what? it's cold outside. it dries your skin out. you needed that,” you softly kiss his neck, wrapping your arms around his waist. “anyway, you were saying al took a while to fall asleep?”

“not ages. but we had to do two stories.”

you squint at your husband. “what was the first one?”

“llama llama red pyjama.”

“did you do the voices? and the noises?”

“obviously, babe.”

“matty,” you groan into his shoulder. “of course he took ages to fall asleep, you got him all hyped up.”

he sighs. “can't help it. i just love the sound of his laugh,” he hugs you tighter. “same as yours, you know.”

“thank god he got something from me.”

matty giggles, pulling back to kiss you quickly. “stop pouting,” he pulls his t-shirt over his head, and suddenly you're more than willing to listen to everything he says. “they both got your brains, darling. actually, lyla was just- oh,” he smirks when you remove your dressing gown, body bare aside from a black thong. “hi.”

rolling your eyes, you reach for the t-shirt he just discarded and pull it over your own head, before climbing into bed and burrowing under the covers; it doesn't stop him from giving you the eyes, though. but you won't be swayed. “you were saying?”

“hmmm? oh, yeah. our daughter,” matty kicks his sweatpants off - you glare at him as he does, and he rolls his eyes and neatly folds them - and climbs in beside you. almost instinctively, you move to lie on his chest, kissing his tattoo softly before turning your head to look up at your husband. he smiles adoringly down at you, gently stroking your hair. “she's so fucking smart. you know how they're learning about space at school?”

“mhmm.”

“she listed all the planets to me and all the moons of neptune. in descending order of how close they were to the planet,” matty shakes his head. “she's eight.”

you smile. “our genius girl.”

“she's gonna ask you about stars and constellations tomorrow, by the way.”

“me? why?”

“because she asked me and i said i didn't know anything, and then she did that thinking face where she really, really looks like you and said ‘i'll talk to mum about it. she'll know.’”

“what gave her that idea?”

“dunno. maybe your tattoos,” he runs his arm over the three tiny constellations inked on your upper arm, representing his and both your babies’ star signs. “or maybe she just thinks i'm an idiot.”

you smirk. “probably that.”

“oh, shut up,” he goes to flick your nose, but you catch his index finger gently between your teeth before he can; because you can't help yourself, you wrap your lips around the digit, and matty’s pupils dilate. “don't start something you won't finish, princess.”

okay, maybe you will be swayed.

looking doe-eyed at your husband, you release his finger with an audible pop, shuffling to sit properly on his lap. “if you finish inside me, does it count?”

“fuck,” matty groans; suddenly, you're underneath him, your neck being attacked by kisses. “think you can keep quiet enough?”

“yes, daddy.”

“good girl.”

***

“well, that's not right.”

matty grits his teeth, holding onto the top of the ladder and looking down at his daughter, whose curly head is buried in an astronomy book from the local library that's almost as big as she is. “again?”

you peer over lyla's head, looking at the page and the bedroom ceiling and back to the page again. “not right at all.”

“fantastic,” he wipes the sweat from his forehead. “which star is the most wrong?”

lyla shoves her glasses up her nose and opens her mouth; matty cuts her off. “i don't know their official names, remember - is it the big one that's the issue, or the smaller ones?”

she tilts her head in a way so reminiscent of matty that you have to bite back a giggle. “that little one to your left, dad.”

“‘kay. and where should it be?”

“further left, and down. like, a little bit down. not too much.”

he nods, carefully peeling the adhesive stars from the ceiling and rearranging them as per lyla's instructions. “alex?”

your son looks up from his comic book. “yeah, dad?”

“go and look at your sister’s book and tell me if this looks right. i need an objective opinion.”

he obliges, carefully placing his book on the bed before wandering over. you roll your eyes. “really, matthew?”

“yes, really,” matty twists, face screwing into a grimace as he stretches the twinge-y muscle in his back. “you girls are perfectionists. al keeps it real,” at that, lyla scowls up at her dad, and he backtracks immediately, face softening. “and that's not a bad thing, munchkin, not at all. it's just… well, there are limits to how accurate we can get everything in here, yeah? sometimes we have to compromise our artistic vision. s'just a sad fact of life.”

you scoff. “and when have you ever compromised on your artistic vision?”

“when you've told me to.”

“alright, i'll give you that one,” you raise your eyebrows, nodding slowly. “so, al - has dad got this one right?”

“hmm,” alex frowns at the page, his brows creasing cutely just like his dad's, then scrutinises the ceiling; his face drops into placidity, and he nods. “i think so.”

“thanks, mate,” matty reaches down to ruffle your son's curly head (only wincing slightly on the way back up), before sighing and smiling sheepishly at your daughter. “lyla? what are your thoughts, darling?”

she readjusts her glasses, and the rest of you wait with baited breath; there's a collective exhale when she grins. “looks good, dad. thanks.”

he beams. “you're welcome, munchkin. now,” he steps a rung down the ladder. “lunchtime?”

you shake your head. “there's still one more, babe.”

“god, really?” matty sighs, pressing his head into the handle at the top of the ladder. “feels like we've been doing this for hours.”

“well, what's one more, then? come on,” you gently tap his denim-covered ass, at which the kids giggle. “you did agree to this, matty.”

“yeah, when i wasn't of sound mind.”

(read: the morning after your late-night lovemaking session a couple of nights ago, the ending of which left your husband extremely chipper and thus agreeable to your suggestion that he stick glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling of your space-daft daughter's room.)

you smirk. “some would argue that's the most sound a mind can be. a certain… clarity to it, no?”

matty shoots you a familiar look, a wordless warning that you're at risk of pushing it too far and getting into trouble if you don't stop now, and you can't deny that it's thrilling; not even a second later, he's switching back into dad mode, gentle and pragmatic with your babies in a way that's almost as sexy as the dominant look you just got. “alright. what is the final constellation, then?”

“s'my birthday one,” lyla beams, moving to snuggle into you. “me and mummy are gonna match!”

“oh,” matty's eyes and voice are as tender as you've ever known them to be - the sweet smile he follows with is even more so. “m'sorry for complaining, darlings, this is very important. alex, would you pass me the… yes, thank you, munchkin,” the final set of stars in hand, he beams at you again. “i reckon i can do this one without guidance, i think. can i try?”

you nod, smiling just as tenderly as your husband. “of course.”

and he does, perfectly placing the stars on the ceiling in the pattern he's known by heart for the past seven years, the pattern he watched you get permanently etched onto your arm while he held the tiny baby girl it was dedicated to. unlike last time, she's awake and alert enough to watch the pattern form, looking up at the ceiling and her father with a beaming smile on her adorable face and her arm around her little brother; something about it all has tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, total love for your family and gratitude for how wonderful your life is both threatening to overwhelm you. 

matty seems to notice - when he's finished the constellations, and safely on solid ground again, one of his arms finds its way around your waist and his lips meet your temple. “love you, darling,” he murmurs, as you watch your kids look awestruck at the stars above them. “thank you.”

“for what?”

he nods towards lyla and alex. “them. convincing me to do this. our life, really,” he squeezes your waist. “s'perfect.”

you sniffle. “so are the constellations. really, matty,” you kiss his shoulder. “they're amazing, baby. i love them. and you, of course!”

matty giggles. “kids?” he calls; two little curly heads bounce over to you in response. “what do we think of the stars, then?”

alex is enthusiastic, hair all but flipping as he nods. “they're so cool!” 

lyla's a bit more measured in her response, but her excitement shines through in the way she throws herself at matty to hug him. “i love them, dad. thank you,” she giggles when he kisses her cheek, reaching for you so she can coordinate a group hug. “we match now, mum.”

“we do, darling, you're right,” you hug your kids in tighter. “i love you, my babies. you too, matty.”

“i love you, too,” he laughs. “can we genuinely get lunch now, though? m'starving. that was hard work, that.”

you laugh softly. “yeah. go on, babies, go and get a fruit shoot,” they oblige, and once they're safely out of earshot you wrap your arms around matty's shoulders. “for all the effort you put in today… you can eat me before we go to sleep tonight, if you want.”

he hums happily, leaning down to kiss you until you're dizzy. “never wanted anything more.”

[toomuchracket]

drunk in love (d word matty x reader smut)

d word smut hiatus over, everyone cheer! inspired by a fun anon i got, takes place immediately after this blurb from last year. enjoy <3

matty's skin is warm under your lips, the salt from the ocean you both swam in earlier still lingering faintly. it's a nice contrast to the sweetness of the champagne you're currently sharing, entwined on a blanket on a deserted malibu beach, watching the setting sun.

once you're done kissing all over your boyfriend's palm, you continue your trail up his middle and index fingers, cheekily taking them into your mouth with a wink. matty giggles, champagne escaping the corner of his lip and dripping down his lightly-stubbled chin; quick as a flash, you stop sucking his fingers in favour of catching the liquid on his face with your tongue, savouring the heady taste of it and him before attaching your lips to his own. your brain is already fuzzy from the bubbles in the drink, and matty's lips and tongue certainly don't help it - when he finally pulls away to breathe, slowly releasing your bottom lip from between his teeth and grinning, you're actually woozy.

he brushes a thumb over your cheek, glowing in the golden hour light. “hi, baby. i love you.”

“i love you,” you beam. the words still feel unfamiliar on your tongue, but getting to say them rather than think them makes you glow as much on the inside as matty is in the evening sunlight. “and i love telling you that i love you.”

“me too,” matty kisses your forehead, then your nose, then all over your face, drawing giggles from your throat; with a chuckle of his own, he pulls you into his chest for a cuddle. “fuck, i love you so much. my sweet girl.”

there's no doubt in your mind that he means it. in fact, there's nothing in your mind except thoughts of matty, how much you love him, and how you wish you could stay in this moment forever, bottle the feelings and the atmosphere and cork it like the champagne in your hand.

you think it might be twice as potent as the alcohol, though. but maybe that's just him.

still holding you, matty moves to lie on his back; he twirls your sun-dried hair around his fingers while you shuffle on top of him to get comfy, smiling warmly when you look up at him. he’s so beautiful that it breaks your heart, all happy-tired and messy-haired and soft worn-out band tee, but the total adoration for you in those pretty eyes is enough to mend it again.

with a kiss to his chest, right where his tattoo is, you sit up, stretching as you take a swig of the champagne set into a little well of sand beside you. matty sighs, moving his hands behind his head and continuing to look at you lovingly. “you're gorgeous, you know that, yeah?”

your cheeks burn as you shake your head. “you're drunk, baby.”

“well, maybe a little bit. but you're still gorgeous,” he runs his hands down your bare thighs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. “i always think that. even when i'm asleep.”

“you dream about me?”

“yeah. a lot.”

“nightmares?”

“no, for fuck's sake,” matty huffs out a laugh, flicking you on the thigh while you giggle. “always good dreams, when you're involved.”

“that's cute, babe,” you trace a little heart on the strip of bare skin visible where matty's t-shirt rides up. “what about sexy ones?”

matty smirks, nodding slowly. “oh yeah,” you have no idea if he means to or not, but he slides his hands across the tops of your thighs, pads of his calloused fingers tracing patterns into the silky skin on the inside of your upper legs; it makes you shiver, in the most delicious way. “those dreams are my favourite.”

“really?” you beam, flirtily biting your lip. “what are we doing in them, my love?”

matty watches as you take another drink from the champagne bottle, his pupils dilating yet never breaking from your own. “well, sweetheart, a lot of the time… you're doing something quite like that.”

“oh?” you blink faux-innocently, flicking your tongue over the opening of the bottle. “like this… daddy?”

your boyfriend groans, shuffling beneath you to try and alleviate the obviously-growing hardness in his shorts. still, he doesn't break eye contact with you, even when you slide your lips as far down the glass neck of the bottle as you can. “jesus christ, princess,” he whines, watching you pull off the bottle and tip some more of its contents into your mouth. “c'mere. wanna kiss you.”

mouth still half-full of champagne, you lean down and let your lips be manipulated by matty's. he moans softly when the alcohol falls into his mouth, drawing satisfied noises from your own throat as he licks practically all traces of it from you - these noises only increase in volume and quantity when his hands slide down to grab at your bikini-clad ass, rocking you back and forth across the hardness below you. it's heavenly, actually, being like this with the man you love in a place like this, just the two of you and the day's last warmth of the sun and the soft crashing of the sea behind you. your head is cloudy, from both bottle and boyfriend, but the desire in your stomach is as sharp as it's ever been.

you need to get matty off. now.

pulling back from his lips just enough to talk, you take a deep breath. “daddy,” your voice is soft, eyes wide and adoring and trained right on matty's, just the way you know fucks him up to an insane degree. “please can i suck you off?”

“shit,” comes the shaky reply, your boyfriend's soft lips meeting your own once again before he talks. “right now, sweet girl? princess wants to make daddy feel good, right out on the beach like this?”

you nod, an involuntary rush of pleasure pooling in your bikini. “mhmm.”

“come on, princess, you can do better than that,” matty runs his thumb over your lips, pulling them apart. “be a good girl and use your words, yeah?”

“mkay,” you smile sweetly at him. “wanna make you feel so good, daddy,” you kiss down over his jaw and up his neck, savouring the little moans he can't hold back before you talk again - well, whisper directly in his ear. “wanna show you how much i love you.”

the noise matty makes in response to that is almost enough to make you cum. he gently guides your head so he can look at you properly, kissing you surprisingly sweetly given the circumstances. “love you, my perfect girl,” he murmurs against your lips. “go on, then, do whatever you want to me. m'all yours. always.”

you hum happily. “all mine.”

matty nods, forehead resting against your own, voice barely a whisper. “yours,” he gently taps your cheek. “let me get ready for you, darling, yeah?”

“alright,” with a final kiss to his nose, you climb off matty's lap, watching as he moves to sit back on his knees and then settling onto your stomach in front of him. this position was an accidental discovery, borne out of you being too eager to get your mouth on him to let him move to lie down, and it's now a mutual favourite; you can watch each other, it's quite comfy for both of you, and - most crucially - it's incredibly easy for matty to fuck your mouth if he wants to.

you hope he does, today. but you'll have to put some work in first for that to happen, so you gently tug down his shorts just enough to free his cock, enjoying the little whine from the man above you when you take it in your hand. eyes locking onto matty's, you let a line of spit drip from your lips onto the head of his dick, smiling at the way he breathes shakily when you slowly pump him. “will you hold my hair back for me, please?”

“of course,” matty does as you ask, swearing under his breath when you press a kiss to the tip as a thank you, wrapping your lips around and flicking your tongue over it just as you did with the champagne. “beautiful girl, so fucking pretty with my dick in your mouth. use it on me, princess, that's my good girl.”

and who would you be to deny him?

you start slow, shallow, savouring the salt of him on your tongue; it cuts through the lingering sweetness of the champagne in the most delectable way, and soon enough you're speeding up your movements, inching further and further down your boyfriend's dick with every movement of your head. and even if you weren't completely obsessed with the way he tastes, the way he feels… the noises he's making, those gorgeous whimpers and groans and whines of your name, they would be enough to spur you on.

the noises turn to proper dirty talk after one particular movement; when he hits the back of your throat, you can't help but gag slightly, and the feeling of it seems to drive matty insane. “christ, princess, love it when you take all of me in that pretty mouth. so good for me, taking me so fucking well.”

you hum happily around him, pulling off quickly to breathe and beam at matty before ducking back down and taking him fully, again. squeezing your thumb in your fist with one hand, you use the other to flatten matty's hand on the back of your head; he understands immediately, gently pressing you down to keep your lips at the base of his cock and his length in your throat. you gag again, despite your thumb trick, but you don't make any attempt to move - you love being like this, mostly because you know matty loves it. he looks down at you, pretty eyes hazy with desire, smiling lazily as your teary gaze meets his own. “fucking hell, princess, look at you,” he coos. “pretty little - breathe, baby, that's it - pretty little slut for me, aren't you? sucking daddy's dick on the beach, where anyone could see, dirty girl. fucking love it,” his face softens, and he softly wipes the tears from your eyes with his free hand. “fucking love you.”

your heart glows, and you pull your mouth off your boyfriend, gasping for breath but still continuing to stroke him as you refill your airways. pressing a kiss to his hip tattoo, you grin up at him. “love you so much. and i need you to fuck my mouth almost equally as much, daddy. please?”

“god, you're so fucking cute. my needy girl,” matty laughs, massaging your scalp. “and to think you were quite innocent when i met you - had never had good sex, and now you're begging me to fuck your face in public. mental.”

you roll your eyes, cheeks burning - not so much out of shame for what you're doing, but more out of embarrassment for how clueless about sex you were when you met him. “yeah, yeah. but you fucking love it, don't you?”

“i do. i love everything you do,” matty boops your nose, smiling. “being in love with someone tends to make you feel like that, though.”

“yeah, it does, doesn't it?” you kiss the head of his dick again, smiling at the way he giggles. “and you know what i love you doing to me, yeah?”

“point taken, princess,” matty weaves his hands into your hair. “you know the drill - three taps if it gets too much, alright? and please remember to breathe, my love. no dick is worth dying for, even mine.”

you sigh. “you're an idiot. i can't believe i'm in love with you,” readjusting yourself on the blanket, you smile up at your boyfriend. “ready?”

“yeah. you?”

blinking coquettishly, you nod. “yes, daddy.”

“good girl.”

matty's eyes don't leave yours for a second as he slowly thrusts into your mouth. he's beautiful like this, you somehow manage to think despite your pleasure-addled brain, jaw slack and pouty lips parted and chest heaving, looking at you like he wants to eat you alive; that last bit changes when he’s fully down your throat, though, eyelids fluttering shut as he tentatively begins to fuck into you. “oh, baby,” he practically whimpers, hips speeding up a little - involuntarily, you think. regardless, you moan, and the vibrations egg him on even more. “i'm not going to last long, princess. you're too - jesus - too fucking good at this. made for it, yeah? made for me, for gagging on my dick like the slut only i know you are. talk to me, angel. tell me who you belong to.”

christ. you're fucking soaked.

you move to pull away so you can talk, but matty harshly pushes your head back down; another bolt of pleasure gushes into your bikini bottoms as he does. “i didn't tell you to stop doing that, princess,” he murmurs. “are you so cockdrunk that you can't multitask anymore? aww, baby.”

“no,” you whine, the sound barely inaudible with your mouth already so preoccupied. “m'sorry.”

“then i'll ask again,” a sharp tug on your hair makes you look up at your boyfriend - imminently close to orgasm, you recognise. “who do you belong to?”

you do your best to reply as clearly as possible. “i belong to you, daddy.”

matty smiles. “fuck yeah you do, princess,” his hips stutter, as do his moans, signalling what you already knew - he's about to cum. “and whose is daddy?”

fuck, you love him so much. “mine.”

and that's what does it for matty - with a groan of your name, he cums down your throat, holding your head in place until he's totally finished thrusting through the climax. you slide off him carefully, keeping your mouth open and the white liquid on your tongue to show him before you swallow; matty swears as you do, swigging more of the champagne before pulling you up to kiss him, letting the sweet and the salt mingle between the two of you as he wraps his arms around your waist. your head is spinning, a mixture of breathlessness and tiredness and drunkenness and matty, but you know you'll be alright in his arms. safest place in the world, you think.

he kisses your nose when he pulls back. “thank you, my darling. that was… yeah, that was incredible. you were incredible, perfect girl.”

shrugging, you snuggle into his chest. “i just like making you feel good, angel.”

“you're really fucking good at it,” matty giggles, sliding his hands under the hem of your t-shirt and kissing your temple. “will you let me return the favour, sweetheart?”

“can i cash it in a bit later tonight, baby?” you look up at him a bit shyly. “might sound, like, cliché or cringe or whatever, but i kind of just want to watch this sunset with you right now. if you want to, that is. we can do something else if you think it'll be boring.”

matty looks at you so tenderly you think you might cry, an eye-crinkling smile spreading across his face. “i don't think i could ever find anything boring if i was with you,” he kisses you, chastely, but the love is obvious in his lips. “come on, let's cuddle.”

and you do, until the stars appear in the inky-blue sky, and you and matty have drank all the ones stored in the bottle - which, incidentally, you make matty carry you back to the beach for, after you both decide to go indoors, tipsily saying “we can't litter, baby. what if a sea creature gets stuck in it?” and almost toppling the two of you when you reach to pick it up.

he puts you down quite reluctantly on the decking next to the kitchen door, grumbling while you put the empty bottle in the waste bucket. “hate not holding you.”

“awwwwww, baby. s'just for a second, though,” you - with some difficulty, admittedly - gently turn on the hose hanging on the side of the house. “okay - ooh, it's warm,” giggling, you hand the hose to your boyfriend. “right. get me wet, babe.”

matty smirks. “done that already, i reckon.”

“nooooooooo, not like that,” you sigh. “i mean get the sand off my legs. can't go in all messy. s'not our house.”

“could be,” matty says, absentmindedly waving the stream of water at your calves.

“hmm?”

“i could buy it. we could live here,” he smirks as another thought comes into his head. “you could just wear those sexy little bikinis all the time. i'd love that,” his smirk fades into a dazed smile as he daydreams. the hose almost slips from his grasp, and the stream of water goes up too high and soaks your t-shirt as he fumbles to catch it. “oh, fuck.”

you shriek, the water sobering you up. “matthew!”

“sorry, darli- actually, no i'm not,” the smirk returns as your boyfriend takes in the white t-shirt now clinging to you like a second skin. “i am not sorry at all, fucking hell.”

“god, you're such a boy. give me that,” you frown, turning the hose on matty and rinsing the sand from his legs in seconds. “there. easy peasy.”

“you're not going to get me all wet? you know i love it when you do that.”

despite your annoyance, you grin. “take me inside and i might.”

“no need to tell me twice, darling,” matty scoops you up, bridal-style, and carries you through the french doors into the kitchen. with a kiss to your nose, he sets you down on the counter beside the sink, leaving you to flick the cabinet lights on while he closes and locks - with a little bit of difficulty, given his tipsiness - the door, before returning to you for another sloppy kiss. he tastes like champagne, even sweeter than usual, and you're mildly upset by the loss of it when he pulls back and raises your arms for you. “need to get this wet top off you, sweetheart. can't have my love getting a cold, now, can i?”

you giggle, letting him pull the t-shirt over your head and drop it into the sink. “take yours off, too? not that you're as at risk as i am, obv. i just think you're fit.”

he laughs, obliging you. “i love you.”

“love you,” biting your lip, you lightly drag your nails down matty's chest, hooking them in the waistband of his shorts and looking up at him as seductively as you can. “would it be possible for me to cash in that favour from earlier, baby?”

“i like the sound of that,” matty kisses you deeply, hands finding their way home to your tits and squeezing gently. “wanna go down on you first, though, if you'll have me.”

“yeah,” you whisper into him. “how do you want me, daddy?”

he smiles against you. “i want to bend you over this fucking counter, princess. how's that sound?”

shit. your bikini’s practically soaked through. “sounds so fucking good. thank you.”

“my sweet, filthy girl,” matty coos, kissing you. he gently lifts you off the counter and sets you down on the floor, stepping back slightly. “alright, you know what to do.”

with a quick final kiss and a whispered “i love you”, which is eagerly reciprocated, you turn away from matty and bend over the counter. the surface is cold under your bare chest, and your entire body trembles slightly; matty groans quietly at that, a sure sign his eyes are glued to your ass. without warning, he brings his hand down on it sharply, eliciting a moan from your lips and a matching “fuck” from his. “god, princess,” he murmurs, rubbing the now-sore spot on your ass. “you're so fucking hot. gonna make you feel so good, baby, alright?”

“mhmm,” you whimper, wiggling your ass in total desperation. “please, please, daddy.”

“relax, my girl,” there's the sound of movement, and you whimper when you feel his breath on your core. “let daddy take care of you.”

you've barely whined out an agreement before matty's tongue is on your clit, flicking over the bundle of nerves before licking a flat stripe up your cunt. you gasp at the feeling, a gasp that quickly turns to a moan when you feel him dip his tongue into you, groaning at the taste he's often told you is his favourite thing in the world; you never really believe him, but the enthusiasm with which he's utterly devouring you right now hints that he might not actually be exaggerating. his hands are warm, firmly gripping your ass to keep you exactly where he wants you while he makes out - there's really no other word to describe it - with your cunt. you're not sure whether it's drunkenness or tiredness or something else, but matty's sloppier than usual with his mouth, his usual precise (deadly) tongue flicks replaced with messy licks and sucks and grazes with his teeth.

it's not like you'll complain, though; he's still making you feel good, drawing half-screamed whines out of you every two seconds, and you can feel how desperate he is for you to cum, all over his face. and isn't that just the hottest thing of all?

you find it so hot, actually, that you give your boyfriend what he wants in an almost embarrassingly short amount of time. after what seems to be an attempt by matty to bury his entire tongue inside you, your body begins to shake, nerves sending bursts of electric pleasure into the pit of your stomach and lifting your heels off the ground slightly; matty smacks your ass again, a warning for you to keep still so he can finish you off properly, and you whimper. “need to cum, daddy, please, please. so fucking close, so so fucking close. can i?”

matty doesn't answer, but his mouth continues its efforts - your grasp on reality isn't too great at the minute, but you're pretty sure he gets even wilder, even more enthusiastic, licking up past your cunt and frantically sucking your clit in his determination to get you off. and he fucking loves it; in the end, it's the vibrations from him moaning into you that actually tip you over the edge, kinetic energy coursing back through your nervous system as you cry out. “yeah, yeah, daddy, m'cumming. oh, fuck me fuck me fuck me, please, so good, so fucking good.”

amidst your babbling and the orgasm still ebbing from your body, you're vaguely aware of matty pulling away from you, one hand leaving your ass as he pulls himself to stand - that changes about a second later, though, when he slides into you without warning and just thrusts. you smile breathlessly, cheek smushed into the counter, sighing contentedly. “oh, thank you.”

“so sweet for me, princess,” matty laughs breathily, his tender tone at odds with the roughness he's fucking you with. “i love you.”

“i love you too,” you whine at a particularly good thrust. “oh, fuck, daddy, please don't stop.”

“wouldn't dream of it, my love,” he presses a kiss to your shoulder blade. “you gonna be a good girl and cum for me again?”

“yes.” you aren't lying - already, your limbs are starting to tremble again.

“yes what?” matty fucks harder into you, hips slapping against your own. “who is it that's making you feel so good, princess?”

you gulp, eyes rolling back into your head from the overwhelming pleasure. “yes, daddy. s'you making me feel good, making me cum.”

the smile in your boyfriend's voice is audible. “that's my girl. c'mere, sweetheart,” matty pulls you up so your back is flush against his chest, still fucking you as he turns your head to look over your shoulder. “give daddy a kiss.”

you oblige eagerly, sloppily kissing him and letting his tongue explore your mouth. throughout it all, his hips don't let up, and the pressure in your stomach grows with every further movement. “m'close again,” you whimper into matty, moaning when you feel his hand slide down the front of your body to your clit. “so close.”

“yeah?” you boyfriend coos against your lips. “want me to make you cum, sweet girl?”

the pleasure is blinding, your vision literally blurring as you reach breaking point. “please, daddy.”

matty smiles, fingers frantic between your thighs. “go on then.”

his lips attach themselves to your neck as you tip your head back onto his shoulder, orgasm hitting you like a freight train for the second time in minutes. you wail a garbled mixture of your boyfriend's name and the nickname only you call him, throwing an arm back around his neck to keep him close while he fucks you as best he can through your climax, given that you're clenching so tightly around his dick.

once the aftershocks subside, you flop forward; matty stops you from clattering against the counter by wrapping an arm around your stomach and lowering you gently, hips faltering as he chases his own release. “shhh, baby, i know,” he murmurs, hand returning home to your hip and softly rubbing patterns into the skin. “so good, so perfect for daddy, princess. want me to fill you up?”

turning your face on the cold wood, you smile at him, completely fucked out - he doesn't look any better, you note, sweaty and tired and red and maybe the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. “mhmm,” you nod slowly. “love you.”

“i love you, so much - oh, fuck, sweetheart,” matty spills inside you with a groan, resting his forehead against your back as he slows to a stop. you can feel him smiling into you. “christ, i'm fucking knackered - well, actually,” pulling out of you with a hiss and a hushed “sorry, baby”, matty turns and lifts you to sit on the counter, angling your hips just so to avoid creating more of a mess. “reckon i'm awake enough to clean you up before bed, if you like.”

you card your fingers through his hair. “you really do so much for me. s'amazing.”

he shrugs. “what can i say? i love you.”

smiling, you pull him in for a hug. “i love you too. come on, let's go and clean up.”

[toomuchracket]

birthday wish (d word matty x reader fluff)

it's the 6th for me already so here's the first of the matty35 birthday celebration fics, as organised by lovely @the1975attheirverybest and @abiiors!! pre-dating, very sweet, hope you enjoy <3

“for fuck's sake, matty, will you just fucking ask her?”

george is all but bashing his head off the desk in the office he and matty have unofficially claimed as their own, while the latter paces across the carpet, biting at the skin around his nails. “dunno, george. what if she says no?”

“wouldn't be the first time a hot girl's told you to do one, would it?”

“fuck off,” matty smacks his friend on the back of the head. objectively, he knows george is right - you are hot, that's merely a fact, you're gorgeous - but that doesn't mean he has to like hearing him bring it up.

whatever. it's not like matty can get mardy at him for it - he isn't your boyfriend, after all. technically, you're barely even friends; he's known you all of four weeks, and has yet to see you in a social setting. 

he really fucking wants to, though. hence, his current dilemma.

george laughs. “mate, you're only asking her to come over to mine for your birthday drinks. it's not like you're asking her out or anything.”

“no,” matty hums, eyes unfocusing on their view out the window as his brain conjures up thoughts of doing just that. it's a nice thought, admittedly not an unfamiliar one, and something he will absolutely get distracted imagining if he doesn't snap out of it now. he blinks. “i just think it'd be nice if she was there, y'know? but, at the same time, i don't want her to feel weird about me asking, cos she doesn't know us that well yet.”

“i think you're overthinking it,” comes the salient reply. “can sort-of see where you're coming from, but i reckon if you just fucking ask her like a normal person then it'll be fine.”

matty sighs. “alright. you're right. i'll ask her before the end of the day.”

“well,” george turns to him, shit-eating grin on his face. he nods towards the glass panel on the door. “she's heading towards us, so you're doing it now.”

fuck. matty peers through the window, heart softening as he watches you wander towards him - sorry, them - stack of papers in hand and your hair escaping the messy ponytail he watched you shove it into earlier. “perfect.”

he barely has time to force the panic from his face before you're knocking softly on the half-open door, poking your head around it with a sweet smile. “hi, boys. am i okay to come in with some admin? i can come back later if you're busy.”

matty opens his mouth to speak, but george beats him to it. “oh, we're not busy at all. matty was just doing my fucking head in, as per,” he laughs when matty scowls at him. “what d'you need?”

“just got some risk assessments for album events that i need you to read and sign. the fun stuff,” you awkwardly (endearingly, matty would say) put the papers on the desk, looking up at matty as you step back and shyly clasp your hands behind your back. god, you are so fucking cute. “and, for the record, i doubt what george just said about you is true, matty.”

“thank you, darling,” matty smiles, at the exact same time as george says “no, he genuinely was being a pain in the arse”; he turns to his best friend, glaring. “what, george, like you're being to me now?”

george winks at you. “worse.”

you giggle nervously, turning towards the door - matty's heart drops as you do. “well, don't let me get in the way. just get those back to me as soon as you can, please, alright?”

“wait, before you go,” george calls after you. “can we talk to you about something?”

“um, yeah?” you turn back around, pretty face panicked, and nervously cross one arm over your stomach to hold the other. “am i in trouble?”

fuck, you are so adorable. matty smiles as softly as possible - not difficult, though, when it’s you he’s smiling at. “no, no, of course not. what would you even be in trouble for, anyway? you’re perfect.”

“oh,” you smile bashfully. “thank you.”

“it’s true. anyway,” matty clears his suddenly-very-dry throat as best he can. “we were wondering… are you, um, busy on saturday?”

“the 9th?” your brow furrows as you think. “yeah, i am, actually - my friend’s moving in with his boyfriend, and i said i’d help,” the panicked expression crosses your face again. “why do you ask? is there something else on that day that i should be at?”

crestfallen, matty replies with a “no, it’s alright, not a big deal”; george cuts him off, though. “it’s not a work thing, no - we were just gonna ask if you wanted to come to the little birthday celebration we’re having for matty at mine that day-”

“but really, if you can’t make it, no hard feelings,” matty interjects, practically tripping over his words in his haste to reassure you (read: seem cool about it, and not let on that he’s disappointed). “we know it’s short notice.”

you blink a few times, biting your lip before you look directly at matty and speak. “what time would you want me?”

well, anytime, all the time, really. “oh. just after 4? it’s quite casual, not a sit-down dinner or anything. but, like i said, no pressure.”

“no, i think i could probably be there for that time!” you nod enthusiastically. “i’ll text you if anything changes, but,” you beam, and matty thinks his heart might pack in. “i’ll do my best to be there. thanks for asking, both of you.”

“of course,” george grins. “you’re our friend. why wouldn’t we ask you?”

he isn’t technically wrong, calling you that on behalf of both of them, but it still makes matty feel like he’s bitten into a lemon. a friend; how he wishes there was another word prefixing it, one only he could use to describe you.

still, you’ll hopefully be there to celebrate his birthday with him, and that sweetens everything - if you turn up, that is. “exactly. you’re top of the guestlist, darling.”

you huff out a laugh, looking at matty so affectionately he could cry. “better make a proper effort to get to the party, then,” you look at your watch. “i’m sorry, i’ve got to run to a meeting - hopefully see you at the weekend?”

“yeah,” matty nods. you’re out of the office before he can finish speaking, and his parting phrase comes out feebly as a result. “bye, darling.”

he moves to sit back at his desk, lifting one of the risk assessments and beginning to read it in silence. george peers round his laptop, gawking at his best friend. “why you being all emo?”

“i’m not.”

“yeah, you are. you’re like a black cloud,” a beat passes, then george speaks again, voice softer. “the invitation went well, at least.”

matty hums noncommittally. “s’pose.” 

“it did, matthew. she was excited. she said she’d try her best to be there. those are good things.”

“i know,” matty sighs. “i just… i hope she’ll be there. be a shame if she wasn’t.”

“i think she will.”

“well, we’ll see.”

***

“... happy birthday, dear matty, happy birthday to you!”

matty smiles at the mismatched chorus of voices, laughing when charli ruffles his hair after she sets the cake down on the coffee table in front of him. “oi, bean,” he lightly taps eilidh, sat on his lap, on the shoulder. “i know we’re a bit early to be celebrating your birthday, but will you help me blow out the candles?”

she nods excitedly, tiny ponytail bouncing. matty beams, and they gently blow out a “3” candle each, to a soundtrack of applause. ross, sat next to the two of them, reaches over to smooth his daughter’s hair. “have the cigarettes finally caught up to you, or are you just getting too old?”

matty furrows his brow. “d’you mean?”

“well, you just needed my toddler’s help to blow out your candles - stop it, i’m joking,” his friend laughs, leaning to the side to avoid matty smacking the back of his head. “did you make a wish?”

“obviously.”

“what for?”

“can’t tell you,” matty takes a sip of his wine, lifting it out of eilidh’s reach - ross lifts her onto his own lap, and she cuddles into him quite cutely. “won’t come true, otherwise.”

“fair enough,” ross shrugs. he nods to something behind matty. “g’s trying to get your attention, mate.”

“is he?” matty turns, heart rate increasing when he hears george saying your name into the phone pressed to his ear. after excusing himself from the table, he quickly follows his friend into the quiet hallway, tensing every muscle in his body to stop his leg bouncing in nervous anticipation.

the nerves fade quickly, though - george smiles as he talks, and then he says something that makes matty want to actually skip around the house. “you’re almost here? amazing, everyone’s looking forward to seeing you…”

understatement of the fucking century.

“... and yeah, i’ll make sure someone’s outside so you know where to go,” he laughs down the line, and matty’s heart melts at the thought of you endearingly asking for that. “alright, no worries. see you soon,” george ends the call, sighing dramatically before smirking at the birthday boy. “told you she’d be here.”

“yeah, yeah,” matty rolls his eyes, but he can’t keep his cheeks from lifting into a smile, no matter how hard he tries. although, to be fair, he’s not trying particularly hard. “i’ll wait for her, mate.”

“you sure? it’s your party, after all.”

“exactly - i should be there to greet the guests,” matty smirks. “and i fancy a cig, too, if i’m honest.”

george scoffs. “typical. here,” he chucks a set of house keys at matty, who manages to catch them with the very tips of his fingers. “you’d better head out now.”

“sweet.”

it’s actually a little bit chilly when matty steps outside george’s front door, but it’s a nice evening; the sun is just beginning to set, casting a golden hue over london, the birds are chirping quietly, and the whole thing is just really quite peaceful. he perches as well as he can on the front gate, lighting up a cigarette and contentedly taking a drag. by the time your uber arrives, he’s halfway finished the cig, but he barely has time to even think about stubbing it out before you’re out of the car and walking towards him. 

he waves, eyes trailing slowly up your body, lingering on your bare legs and almost popping out of his head when they take notice of the slight cleavage your sundress is showing off. not that it’s obscene, or anything, he’s just so used to seeing you all office-chic and buttoned-up. still, matty quickly shifts his focus to that beautiful face of yours, just to keep his cool.

as if he could, around you.

you beam as you near him. “hi! i’m so, so sorry i’m late,” you open your arms for a hug, and he slots into them eagerly, savouring the rose of your perfume. “had to marinate in the shower for a bit after today, i stunk.”

“well, you smell good now. and you look it, too, i love that dress,” matty replies, heart breaking ever so slightly when you pull apart. “and you’re here, that’s all that matters.”

“thanks! and i wouldn’t have missed your birthday, matty - speaking of, here,” you pull a bottle of red from your bag and hand it to him. “didn’t know what to get you, so i figured this was a safe bet.”

“you didn’t have to get me anything! thanks, though, darling,” he looks at the label, eyes widening. “shit, this is good. shall we go inside and open it?”

“oh, if you like,” you smile. “or you can save it for someone special, i'm cool either way.”

matty shrugs, smiling. “i mean, i'm looking at such a person right now.”

it's maybe a tiny bit far a statement for a platonic relationship, but you don't take it badly at all - you just smile back, quietly agree to share the wine, and follow matty when he leads you back into the house and straight into the empty kitchen.

you gasp when you see the birthday cake on the counter. “no! i missed the cake?”

“only by a few minutes,” matty stops rummaging in a drawer for the corkscrew to look round at you; his heart jolts when he sees you look genuinely sad. “really, darling, it's not a big deal.”

“i still feel bad, though. i really am sorry for not being here on time, matty.”

“hey, none of that, please,” he hands you a glass of wine and puts his arm around your shoulders, biting back a beam as you automatically melt into him. “like i said, you're here now, and that's the main thing. and it's my birthday party, so you have to listen to me.”

“alright,” you look up at him, smiling, and hold out your glass. “happy birthday, sweetheart.”

he smiles warmly at the pet name, heart aglow, and taps his glass lightly on your own. “thank you, darling. d'you think we should cut the cake?”

jesus, what a spiral that phrase could lead him into. thank god you're not wearing white today.

you nod. “where does george keep plates? i'll get them.”

“cupboard above the kettle.”

plates and knife procured, matty carefully slices into the cake, oohing and ahhing at the interior. “wow. look at the layers! they're so neat.”

“alright, paul hollywood.”

he giggles. “i love bake off.”

“so do i - oh, thank you,” you take the plate from him, and then a bite of the cake. “fuck me, that's good.”

he laughs, pushing himself to sit on the counter and taking a bite of his own slice. “christ, you were not kidding. fucking amazing.”

“isn't it?” you wash your bite down with some wine. “m'still sorry i didn't get to see you blowing out the candles, though.”

“eilidh helped me.”

you aww, perching yourself on the counter next to him. “i take it you made a wish?”

“of course.”

“good,” you rest your head on his shoulder, so casually intimate that matty thinks his legs would give way if he tried to stand right now. “d'you think it'll come true?”

he rests his head atop yours, smiling when you giggle at him. “you know what? i think it already has.”

[toomuchracket]

pool party (d word matty x reader fluff/smut)

day 21 of summer75, and today we have a fun little look at the reality of these fuckers' relationship before anybody knew they were a thing (aka, the one where they're both horny but can't fuck without being suspicious or caught). enjoy <3

you: do u like black or lilac better

matty 😚: in what context?

you roll your eyes, quickly firing back a reply. just pick a colour, babe

matty 😚: lilac

you: thank u <3 i'll meet you all in a min

matty 😚: hurry up please i miss u

you: will do, lover

chucking your phone into your beach bag, you giggle to yourself as you slip into a lilac bikini and sandals. there's a fading hickey the same colour as your swimsuit just under your jaw, you notice as you fix your hair in the mirror, but you don't bother trying to cover it up - hopefully, in wearing your secret boyfriend's favourite colour to a pool party where he cannot touch you at all, you’ll get more of them later.

judging by matty’s expression when you waltz out of the villa to the pool a few minutes later, more marks are a certainty tonight. you spot him as soon as you step outside, lazing insouciantly on a sunlounger, hair dripping wet and body shimmering in the sunshine, and for the briefest of moments you feel truly distraught that you can't just go and drape yourself over him, let his hand find its way to your arse as it does whenever you cuddle up to him. but the feeling passes in favour of exhilarated glee when you notice his jaw drop at the sight of you, a feeling that grows when he slides his sunglasses up to let his eyes trail better over your body. you wink at him, and he smirks, putting his glasses back on when your attention is taken by john asking if you want a drink, to which you eagerly respond in the affirmative.

all in all, you don't actually end up anywhere near matty for about an hour, preoccupied with chatting to your friends, taking pictures with the girls, eating your way through the massive fruit salad adam decided to make “so nobody gets too pissed because they haven't eaten anything”; only after that do you strategically go to sit on the edge of the pool near where your boyfriend and george are splashing each other and laughing like kids, dangling your legs in the warm water while you light up a cigarette and sip at your pornstar martini.

as soon as you exhale your first drag, george seems to materialise in the water front of you, matty trailing behind him (and looking at you like you're a three course meal). “my good friend,” he begins, all gravel drawl and grin. “might i perhaps have one of those cigarettes, please?”

“christ, you're like a bloodhound. here,” you pull the pack and lighter from your bag, setting them down beside you. as george pulls himself out of the pool to sit next to you and light up, you turn to your boyfriend. “you having one?”

matty shakes his head, eyes never leaving your body. “s'not what i want right now, darling.”

“no? alright,” you take another drag, spreading your legs slightly to give him a better look at what he does want while you sip your drink. “want a taste?”

his eyes widen, flicking up to yours in disbelief. “hmm?”

you wave your glass at him, face as saccharine as your cocktail. “of the drink.”

“oh, i- no, thank you,” matty shakes his head. “sorry. blanked for a second there.”

george scoffs. “matty, you fucking perv, she didn't mean it like that,” he turns to you while matty splutters out a response of some kind. “sorry about him, mate. doesn't know how to act around attractive women anymore cos he hasn't gotten any in so long,” he laughs, smirking when he notices the mark on your neck. “but apparently you have! good for you. i trust it was decent?”

you're acutely aware of matty, completely still in the water while he waits for you to answer - you smirk, deciding to fuck with him a little. “well, to be honest, george,” you stub out your cigarette, pausing dramatically. “it was mid.”

matty snorts, squinting at you - disbelieving, but to anyone else it would look like he's just affected by the sun - while george cackles. “was it anyone we know?”

“well, a lady never tells,” you smile, turning to your boyfriend. “matty, if i get in the pool, will you carry me? don't wanna get my hair wet.”

he rolls his eyes. “you're such a princess. get in here.”

giggling at the nickname, you down the rest of your drink. “bye, george. don't smoke all my fags!”

“i won't!”

“you better not! right,” you slide into the water, wrapping your limbs around matty and beaming when he grabs your arse and starts to walk towards the centre of the pool. “hiya.”

“afternoon. you comfy?”

“yeah… wait, just let me,” you wriggle around a little in his grasp, accidentally-on-purpose pushing your boobs into his face for a second before looking at him with a shit-eating grin. “oopsies.”

“you're lucky i can't spank you underwater, you know,” matty smirks, walking the two of you further from the rest of your friends. “for that, and for that fucking mid comment earlier. mid? me making you squirt on my dick was mid?”

you whimper at the memory, clit tingling as you recall the five consecutive orgasms you made it through, before it all got too much to bear and you soaked your boyfriend, much to his delight. “no, daddy, m'sorry,” you tuck your face into his neck, softly kissing it. “was a bad joke. loved it, really,” you move to whisper in his ear. “love you.”

matty's whole demeanour changes - he softens, attitude melting away to reveal the sweetheart you know and love so much. “s'alright, princess, i love you too,” he turns to kiss your head before pulling back to smile at you. “my beautiful girl, in my favourite colour. that was sweet of you to ask, baby.”

“just wanted to turn you on, really.”

he laughs. “well, you've done that, sweetheart,” he pulls your bottom half closer into his. “feel how fucking hard you've got me?”

“yeah,” you breathe. “shit, i wish you could fuck me right now.”

“same,” he rests his head on your shoulder. “d'you think we're being too obvious, by the way? like… you clinging to me?”

“every single person here saw you do a tequila shot from between my tits a month before we were even together, so…” you giggle, hugging him tighter when he laughs too. “i think we're good.”

“s'pose,” matty turns his head towards the rest of your friends, where ross is yelling something about ordering dinner. he sighs. “we'd better go and see them, yeah?”

“might as well,” you reply glumly, sighing dramatically as matty carries you through the water. “guess i'll just have to have sex with you in a pool some other time.”

“oh, believe me, darling, i'll do everything i can to make that happen,” he kisses your head, the final brush of his lips on your skin before you run the risk of being caught. “tonight, though, i do have that massive bath in my room, if you like…”

“absolutely. i'll be there at eight.”

“looking forward to it, princess.”

[toomuchracket]

stupid cupid (d word matty x reader fluff)

day 3 of valentine's week, in which you realise you're in love with matty in an unexpected circumstance. cute as shit. enjoy <3

you collapse forward onto matty's chest, both of you breathing heavily. he's still partially inside you, and you can feel his cum dripping from your hole and pooling below you on his body, but you don't mind; you like this sort of post-sex intimacy, when the orgasm haze fades from your brain but the stickiness and tiredness of your body still continue as reminders of how good it was.

and fuck, was it good.

matty strokes your messy hair. “mad how we've never had bad sex with each other, isn't it?”

“shut up,” you laugh, looking up at him adoringly. “you'll have jinxed it now.”

“impossible,” he grins. “i like watching you try to walk normally the day after a good fuck too much to not make an effort…”

“oh my god.”

“... and you are just too eager to please me to half-arse anything, my little princess,” matty boops your nose, laughing when you screw your face up. “in conclusion - great sex forever.”

you hum, tracing the chest tattoo next to your head. “that really was great, that. unexpected.”

“d'you mean?”

“thought you'd be exhausted after the show. s'why i insisted on being on top,” you laugh breathily while matty flicks your nose. “pleasantly surprised at how much work you did.”

“you've been running around in tiny shorts all day. course i was gonna go fuckin feral,” he smiles, hand weaving into your hair and massaging your scalp. “tired now, though.”

“same,” as if on cue, you yawn, and snuggle further into your boyfriend. “night night.”

matty giggles. “nope, not yet. need to clean you up first, darling,” you're not quite sure how he manages it, but next thing you know you're being scooped up bridal style and carried to the bathroom. he sets you down next to the toilet, and reaches in to turn the shower on. “you piss, i shower, then you come in with me. yeah?”

“mmmkay,” you nod, smiling as matty kisses your head before stepping into the shower. normally, you wouldn't let him in the room at this point, but the glass is so frosted that you don't care. you do what you need to do, giggling to yourself as you stand up and lean over to the sink to wash your hands and listen to your boyfriend sing (for what reason, you've no idea) lucky ones by lana del rey over the sound of the taps.

and then, you try to walk over to him, and your legs almost give way to the point you have to cling to the counter to stay upright. you yelp. “matty!”

he's over at you within seconds, sliding a little bit on the floor. concern on his face, he gently holds yours in his still-wet hands. “what’s wrong, angel? you alright? did you see a spider again?”

“no, i just,” you sigh, looking up at him with a pout. “i can't walk. tried to get to the shower and my legs gave way.”

“already? nice,” matty smirks. you deliberately wobble your lip, and his face softens. “oh, sweetheart,” he coos, kissing your forehead and lifting you up to sit on the counter. “give me a second to rinse my hair, yeah? then i'll take care of you. promise.”

“‘kay,” you sniffle. “you can leave the shower door open if you want.”

your boyfriend laughs. “it won't turn you on again, looking at me naked and dripping wet?”

you shrug. “maybe. but you're beautiful like that. s'nice to appreciate you.”

“flatterer,” matty's cheeks go adorably pink. he kisses you, long but chaste, before walking backwards to the shower. “front or back view?”

“back. you've got a cute arse, and i never get to see it.”

“not as cute as yours.”

“yeah, yeah,” you roll your eyes. “hurry up, please, i miss you. wanna go to sleep.”

he grins. “alright, darling.”

in fairness to matty, he really only is a few minutes rinsing the hair mask from his curls - he's so quick, in fact, that you’ve half a mind to tell him to go back in so you can appreciate the view even longer. but as much as you like ogling his peachy little bum and the way his back muscles flex under the water, you like it when he takes care of you even more. so you keep your mouth shut and smiling, hand him a fluffy towel from the stack beside you (with a final bit of ogling as he runs it over his body and wraps it low on his hips), and let him do just that.

he kisses you as he runs a flannel under the hot tap, then wrings it out and presents it to you. “temp ok?” he smiles when you nod, tapping your thigh as a sign for you to open them so he can clean you up, cooing when you wince at the feeling of the warm fabric on your still-sensitive cunt. “i know, sweet girl, i know. just a second longer, yeah? need to make sure you won't be all sticky and uncomfy, that's all. alright?”

“mhmm,” you smile at the way matty’s concentrating on you, the same as he always does during aftercare - brows furrowed in focus, bottom lip between his teeth, whole face softening as he looks you over in satisfaction once he's done. it's almost reverential, the way he treats you, and still totally overwhelming, even after all these months. nobody else you’ve been with has ever been so caring towards you, nor so affectionate; once he's chucked the flannel in the laundry bag, the first thing matty does is straighten up and kiss you. it makes you melt. “thank you, baby.”

he pecks your lips. “just doing my boyfriend duties.”

“you do them very well,” wrapping your arms around his neck, you shuffle forward to hug matty, snuggling into him while he holds you tightly. you don't know if you've ever felt so safe in your life. “m'really sleepy. will you take me to bed now?”

“course,” matty gives you a final squeeze and pulls back, smiling softly; his eyes widen when he looks at your face, though. “wait, no, i can't. not yet.”

“why?”

“you've still got your makeup on, darling.”

blinking tiredly, you look over your shoulder at your reflection. “oh, so i do. never mind. i'll sort it in the morning. let's just go to bed, yeah?”

matty shakes his head. “nope.”

“matty,” you whine, stroking his face. “please can we just go to sleep? m'too tired to do it.”

“angel,” your boyfriend sighs, taking both your hands in his. “the first time i stayed at yours, you made me promise - promise - to never let you fall asleep with your makeup on. said it was the worst thing i could ever let you do. so, yeah, we're not going to bed until your skincare is done. alright?”

a wave of something unfamiliar passes over you as you take in matty's words. it's not unpleasant, though; quite the opposite, actually. kind of warm, but not in an embarrassed way. you don't know what it is, or where exactly in your body it starts, but you like it.

you smile shyly. “i can't believe you remember me saying that. i was half-joking, honestly.”

matty copies your smile and shrugs. “well, i took it very seriously. so, to that end,” he kisses you quickly, resting his forehead against your own. “if you're too tired to take your makeup off and all that, would you let me do it instead?”

the warmth passes over you again as he speaks, increasing by a couple of degrees when you look at your boyfriend's adorably expectant face. god, his eyes. you want to drown in them. “yes, please,” you smile. “if you wouldn't mind, that is.”

“i never mind getting to touch your beautiful face,” he grins. “i know you're tired, darling, but could you put your hair up while i wash my hands, please?”

you oblige, reaching to the side for your claw clip and headband. matty quickly cleans his hands, fiddling about with the tap once he's rinsed. “tepid for skincare, yeah?”

“right,” you nod. “if it's too hot it…

“... strips the skin too much. makes sense,” matty carefully measures out your makeup remover on his palm, while you blink in surprise. wetting the cleanser, he brings his hands to your face. “let me know if i'm not doing it right, sweetheart.”

“okay,” you close your eyes, and he begins. his hands move gently across your face, the soothing circular motion of his fingers lulling you into relaxation - ironically, in total contrast to the circular motions matty was using on you earlier. when he giggles quietly, you keep your eyes closed, but smile. “what?”

“you look like a raccoon. your mascara's completely melted,” matty replies, and you can hear him smiling. “a really cute raccoon, though.”

“a callback to my emo days,” you smile, closing your mouth as matty wipes the makeup residue away with a facecloth. “is that us done?”

“yeah. take a look, please.”

you do as asked, turning to examine your totally makeup-free face in the mirror. “perfect, baby. thank you,” you turn back to peck matty - glowing with pride - and smile. “d'you want me to guide you through the rest of the routine?”

“oh, no, it's ok,” matty’s cheeks go pink again, and he looks bashfully at the ground before peeking up at you through his eyelashes. “i, uh, i actually made a note of it in my phone, one of the times i sat with you while you did it. just in case, you know, something like tonight happened, and i would be the one doing it for you.”

oh. your eyes widen, and matty starts some frantic monologue about… well, you've no idea what. you can't focus on anything he's saying, because now you know what the new warmth in your body is, spreading from your heart to your brain and tinting the world just a little bit brighter.

it's love. 

you're in love with matty.

as soon as the realisation hits, though, reality follows - all it took for you to realise was for him to offer to do your skincare for you? really? that tiny little gesture? christ. how pathetic of you.

but it isn’t a tiny gesture, though, is it, if you think about it; matty cares so much about you that he physically noted down which skincare products you use on your face and in which order. it might be a basic ritual, but it's intricate and intimate, and he's willingly offering to enact it for you because he knows you’ll feel bad if you abandon it tonight.

god, you love him so much.

shit, you still haven't said anything - you tune back into matty talking about “i'm sorry if that's a bit creepy or stalker-ish, i just know you spend a lot of time taking care of yourself like that, and really i think you've got it down to a fine art cos you always look amazing, and i don't know i just thought it would be useful to know if i was ever lucky enough to be so close to you that i could take over with it if necessary, and-”

“matty, baby,” you stop him before he talks himself unconscious, smiling. “i’m really touched that you would do that for me. really.”

he smiles, clearly relieved. “i'd do anything for you, darling.”

you swear you can feel your heart grow three sizes like the grinch. “well, in that case,” you kiss the back of his hand. “i'd like you to do my skincare for me, please.”

“alright. can i kiss you first?”

you say nothing, just pout your lips and close your eyes. matty chuckles and kisses you deeply, hands on your jaw; you sigh into him, lips parting to let him in, and he takes the bottom one between his teeth and releases it ever so slowly. when you whimper, he smiles, pecking your lips before pulling away completely. “right. cleanser time.”

you smile, too, closing your eyes and sitting back while he washes and hydrates and treats and moisturises your face. again, matty's so gentle with you, humming whatever tune is in his head and quietly murmuring instructions like “pea-sized amount of niacinamide, grape-sized amount of moisturiser” to himself - you huff out a laugh at those, and he stops talking to himself in favour of talking to you. “what?”

“nothing, you're just cute” and i'm very much in love with you.

“nowhere near as cute as you, sweetheart. just your lip balm left to do, by the way, and then we can finally go to bed.”

“thank god.” 

matty laughs as he quickly swipes your overnight lip mask on, tapping your thigh once he's done. “that's you, angel,” he washes his hands again, while you open your eyes and beam at him. “shiny and beautiful.”

“thank you, my darling,” you pull the claw clip and headband from your hair, shoving them in your cosmetics bag before making grabby arms at matty. “bedtime?”

“bedtime,” your boyfriend lifts you and wanders to the bedroom, laying you gently on the bed and kissing your hair; in complete contrast to the tenderness, he parkours over you to get to his own side of the bed, and you giggle as he winces. “fuck, that was a bad idea.”

“oh baby. c'mere,” you slide under the duvet and open your arms. matty slots himself between them, resting his head on your chest. “better?”

“so much,” he yawns, eyelids already fluttering closed. “night, baby. see you in my dreams, and then in the morning.”

“goodnight, darling,” you lean down to kiss his forehead, gently massaging his scalp until his breathing indicates he's properly, genuinely asleep. then you smile, and your voice drops to a whisper. “i love you.”

[toomuchracket]

you're the only thing that's going on in my mind (d word matty x reader smut)

cocky mean d word matty post-show on glasgow night 1 because i left that gig Fucked Up (see below pic that i took). canon, so girly is pregnant at this point. he goes a bit simpy at the end, but... fork found in kitchen. VERY slutty. enjoy! <3

“what the fuck are you two doing here?” matty's voice - loud, so as to be heard over the people outro - and face are aghast as he exits b stage to find you and mrs mac, the two of you standing in front of the security line at the back. “couldn't believe my eyes when i saw you lurking from up there.”

“well, we do work here,” comes the reply from beside you. 

you laugh, leaning back to stretch slightly before cradling your bump. “and the baby wanted to be up close and personal for the final song. she’s her father's daughter, after all.”

“jesus christ,” matty shakes his head, but the little smile on his face is unmissable. he steps close to you so ross and adam can get out, pressing a quick kiss to the bump before pulling you into his bare chest. “wasn't just the baba that wanted to see me there, though, was it?”

“hmm?” you look up at your boyfriend, a smirk on his pretty face.

“don't act clueless, sweetheart,” matty slings an arm around your shoulders as you both start walking back to the main stage, leaning to speak in your ear. “saw the way you were looking at me the whole time. and the way you crossed your legs when i opened my shirt - that was for you, by the way. wanted to see how you'd react.”

you can feel your cheeks burning. “was it… a good reaction?”

matty laughs, not unkindly, and kisses your cheek. “oh, baby, you're such a fucking sub,” he coos in your ear. “of course it was a good reaction; the sexiest woman in the world’s all turned on and needy for me. s'hot as fuck.”

“you're hot as fuck.”

“too fucking right,” your boyfriend holds out his free hand and brushes it against some of the waiting palms of the crowd, still leaning in to talk to you. “look at them, how excited they are, how happy. look what i fucking did to them, did for them. me.”

“no one else,” you all but breathe, shuffling even closer to him. “just you.”

matty hums, leading you through behind the stage and pulling you into a darkened alcove. his lips are on yours almost immediately, tongue slipping into your mouth and making you whine. “you're fucking desperate for me, aren't you, princess?”

fuck.

“yeah,” you whimper against him. “want you to fuck me.”

matty groans into your mouth, pulling back to hold your jaw. he smirks. “nah.”

you blanch. “what?”

“you don't understand? fuck's sake,” matty rolls his eyes. “no. i don't want to fuck you right now.”

“but…” you feel your lip trembling.

“good girls don’t say but, do they?”

you blink, looking sheepishly at the ground. “no, daddy. m'sorry.”

“that's better,” matty strokes your cheek. “now, instead of us running off because you're needy, i want us to go and celebrate with everyone, because i think i deserve to be celebrated - you agree, don’t you?”

you nod.

“good girl,” matty smiles, a smile that widens when you perk up at the praise. “if you're good enough at the afterparty, then i'll fuck you. understand?”

you nod again.

“words, princess.”

“yes, daddy. i understand.”

matty kisses you again. “let's go, then, gorgeous.”

and thus begins the most tedious ninety minutes of your life.

it wouldn't actually be a bad night if you weren't so worked up, you think - everyone's in good spirits, pleased with how well the show went, and the room is soundtracked by a cacophony of laughs and excited tones. you try your best to get involved in the conversations with your friends, all of them interjecting with their favourite moments of the show, but your focus is so elsewhere that you end up just sitting back and nursing your soda and lime.

elsewhere being your boyfriend, working his way around the conversations in the room and soaking up the compliments like a cat in a patch of sunlight. he's too busy preening to have made a dent in his pint, but he's as animated as he is when he's tipsy; there's a permanent smirk etched on his face as he incessantly talks, and the combination of that and his almost-unbuttoned shirt has you clenching. you don't want to look away from him at all, but god knows what else might happen if he catches you staring at him so openly, so lustfully, teeth biting your straw to beyond the point of use just to stay sane. best to keep your head down every time he turns his in your direction.

it shoots straight up when he speaks from right beside you, though, squatting to take your hand and talk to you. “fancy some air, darling?”

finally.

“yes please,” you reply, biting your tongue to stop yourself grinning too widely.

matty knows how excited you are, though. as soon as you get into the empty hallway, he pulls you in for a sweet hug, but the relief you feel from him touching you is somewhat overshadowed by the way he laughs in your ear.

“what is it?” you lean back just enough to look at him, your brow furrowed.

“you're just so fucking needy,” matty shakes his head, still giggling. “you thought i was getting you alone so we could get each other off, didn't you?”

“i- no.”

“well, good. because that's not what's happening.”

you feel your shoulders slump slightly. “okay.”

“i'll tell you why, but i need to ask you something serious first,” one of his hands caresses the bump. “you're not tired, are you? or sore at all?”

“no, i'm alright.”

matty tuts. “so why are you sitting in there moping, princess?”

your jaw drops. “i am not fucking moping.”

“less of the backchat,” your boyfriend says sternly. “and yes, you are, sitting there looking at the floor and not talking to anybody. told you to be good, remember?”

“i am being good!”

“what did i just say, princess?” matty holds your jaw; not painfully, but firmly enough that you can't look away from him. he looks fuming. “keep answering back like that, and you won't cum for a week. you're already on thin fucking ice as it is, after the way you acted in there. sitting silently just waiting for me to stop celebrating my night so i can fuck you - what a brat you are. a needy little brat.”

you'd be lying if you said his words didn't send a burst of heat straight between your legs. but still, you're curious as to where matty's newfound dominance has come from. “why are you being so mean to me tonight?”

he smirks. “because, darling, you asked me to. remember?”

oh, fuck. a memory crosses your mind, hazy with post-sex fog, matty's jaw dropping when you shyly say you wouldn't mind him being meaner in bed with you, whenever he felt up to it. “ah…”

“you do remember!,” matty looks satisfied. “that's good, because i'm feeling very selfish tonight. in the mood to be… worshipped, i'd say. have someone else do all the work. how's that sound, princess?”

“so good,” you whine. and it does - you'd do anything to touch him right now. “i'll do it now, daddy, if s’what you want.”

“bet you fucking would, gorgeous,” matty's hands trail down your body, across the bump, and back up over your tits. “so desperate for daddy to fill you up again, even though i've already done it. never enough for you, is it?”

you shake your head. “never. need you all the time.”

“greedy girl,” matty grins. “but it's actually hot that you need me so much. just wish you were better behaved about it.”

you nod. “i will be, daddy, promise.”

“prove it,” his thumb pulls your lower lip down. “take what i give you, and you'll get what you want if you keep being good while i finish my pint, yeah?”

“yes, daddy.”

“there's my girl,” matty smiles, and you glow. “now - open.”

you oblige, dropping your jaw so your boyfriend can spit into your open mouth; he opens his to tell you to swallow, but you've already done it before he takes a breath to speak. he groans, rubbing his thumb over your lips and smiling when you suck the tip. “that's more like it. good.”

“thank you, daddy.”

“you're welcome, princess,” matty presses a quick kiss to your lips before pulling you into a hug and murmuring in your ear. “colours still apply tonight, sweetheart, as always - you want to stop at any point, just say the word. you're alright now, though, aren't you?”

“yeah. all green here,” you whisper into matty's ear in return. “i love you.”

“i love you, too,” a kiss to your cheek, and matty leans back. the smirk has reappeared on his pretty face. “m'excited to fucking ruin you later.”

“please.”

your boyfriend kisses you again, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and dragging it to release. “half an hour. best behaviour, you hear me?”

you nod enthusiastically. “i hear you, daddy.”

“alright. let's go back in, then.”

matty takes your hand and leads you back into the room of your friends, helping you to get comfy on one of the sofas before slotting in beside you. he's as self-assured as he was earlier, but your attraction to that is more manageable now that he's actually touching you - a hand on your thigh, lazily drawing patterns into your trouser leg - and you know you only have to endure another thirty minutes until he takes you back to the hotel.

as it turns out, that time flies by, so much so that you're almost surprised by matty leaning in to tell you it's time to go. you nod, and he kisses your head before standing and helping you up.

“is that the two of you on your way?” mrs mac jumps up to hug you, patting the bump affectionately. “take it easy tonight, love. s'been a long day.”

“yeah, i will,” you smile. liar.

“take care of her, healy.”

“oh, i will,” matty smiles. not a lie. “night, everyone.”

after the chorus of well done agains and goodbyes dies down, matty leads you to the waiting car. the journey back is quick, and quiet, the only sounds the humming of the engine and the noises from the late-night glasgow revellers you pass. in fact, aside from thanking the driver, matty's silent the whole time until you get into the room; only once the door closes behind you does he speak, leaning down to whisper in your ear as he takes your coat from you. “colour?”

“green.”

“good. in that case - clothes off, on the bed, legs open. now. and don't even think about touching yourself.”

you're actually thankful of the order, because you're so wet that your underwear is starting to become uncomfortable. with a “yes, daddy” and a sloppy kiss, you practically sprint to the bedroom of the suite, kicking off your trainers as soon as you open the door and pulling down your jumpsuit so quickly you wouldn't be surprised if you ripped it. you chuck it onto the chair in the corner of the room, and your lingerie follows suit before you climb onto the bed as instructed, waiting as patiently as possible for matty.

he wanders in a couple of minutes later, can of coke in hand, and leans against the doorframe. the shirt he was wearing has disappeared, and you can't quite decide if you'd rather look at his chest or his smirking face. “can see how fucking wet you are from here, princess. jesus,” matty says, wandering over to you and looking hungrily at your soaked cunt. without warning, he brings his hand down harshly onto it; you yelp, and feel another gush to your core. matty giggles and repeats the motion, and the same thing happens. “you little slut, liking when i slap your pussy. dirty, dirty girl.”

slightly sickeningly, you don't think you've ever been so turned on in your life. all you can do is whimper as your boyfriend continues to slap your cunt, the noises turning to cries whenever he makes contact with your clit, and then to little mewls as he drags his fingers up and down your slit with a “so messy, princess, i think we need to clean you up.”

sighing with relief, you spread your legs even wider so that matty can comfortably get his head between them - you're surprised (and disappointed), then, when he holds a hand out and says “get up, and follow me”. but you oblige, of course, like the good girl you know you are despite what matty says and thinks. when he nudges you into the shower and takes the rest of his clothes off, you perk up slightly, and even more so when he removes the showerhead from the wall and kneels. “spread your pussy for me.”

fuck.

you oblige, but you must look terrified, because matty's eyes fill with concern. he strokes your thigh comfortingly. “colour, sweetheart?”

taking a deep breath, you reply in a shaky voice. “green.”

he doesn't seem convinced. “you're sure?”

“yeah. honest.”

“well, alright,” he presses a kiss to your thigh. “hold onto me if you need, yeah?”

“okay, daddy. thank you.”

“of course,” matty sits back on his knees. his face changes again. “now… let me clean my dirty girl up.”

aiming the showerhead at the floor, he reaches up to turn the water on, testing it with his free hand and adjusting the temperature dial accordingly. suddenly, with no warning, warm streams of water hit your clit; your jaw drops, and it takes everything in you to stop your legs doing the same. “oh my god.”

“tell me how it feels.”

“it's - shit - so fucking good, daddy,” you pant, eyes rolling back with pleasure, jaw shaking slightly. matty turns the water pressure up a notch, and you gasp. “fuck!”

matty hums. “d'you wanna cum?”

“yeah.”

“well, too bad,” all of a sudden, the water stops. you wail at the loss of stimulation on your clit, and matty scoffs. “what are you being like that for? thought you wanted me to fill you up again. you're telling me you don't want to cum on my dick?”

your legs nearly give out. “no, i do,” you whimper. “please, daddy, need you inside me.”

“hmm,” matty tilts his head, squinting at you. he sighs. “alright. you're doing all the work, mind you,” he stands and takes your hand again, before leading you to stand in front of the sink. “come on, princess. hands on the counter - wanna look at myself while you get me off.”

it's infuriating how hot you find your boyfriend’s arrogance - or, it would be, if you could think about anything other than the feeling of him brushing up against your waiting cunt. the desire spilling out of you isn’t helped in the slightest by the way matty’s eyes are locked onto his own reflection, as he moves and flexes and runs his hands through his hair and across his face.

god, he's fucking gorgeous.

and he knows it. “fucking look at me,” matty says - to nobody in particular, given that you're both already staring at his reflection. “no fucking wonder the crowd reacted the way they did tonight,” he laughs, tilting his head and opening his mouth slightly. “could've had any one of them, i reckon. bet everyone wished they could have me, just like this.”

envy draws your cheeks in. the thought of matty fucking someone else in your place sends a bolt of rage into your stomach, firing up your throat and shooting from your lips as a snarl. good girl be damned. “well, they fucking can't.”

matty meets your eyes in the mirror and smirks. “no?”

“no,” you grip the counter so hard your knuckles go white. “you're mine. besides, none of them could fucking take you like i do.”

he laughs. “oh, you're being a bitch. i like it.”

“just being honest, daddy.”

“well, show me how you take it, then,” with one hand, matty lines himself up with your hole; the other weaves itself into your hair, forcing you to keep looking in the mirror. “give me all you've got, you fucking bitch.”

you smile, saccharine. “yes, daddy,” slowly straightening your arms, you moan in harmony with your boyfriend as he fills you up. “fuck.” 

once you've taken a second to get used to the feeling of matty inside you, you bend your arms and pull yourself almost completely off him, before slamming back with no warning and watching in satisfaction as matty's jaw drops. “shit, princess,” he groans, steadying himself against the wall with his free hand as you repeat the movement, over and over. “yeah, you're fucking right - only you, my girl, only you can take me so fucking well. perfect fucking pussy, perfect fucking girl.”

you beam at the praise - matty notices, and laughs. “you like it when i tell you how good you are at taking my dick? little slut. but it's true. fucking built for this, weren't you? for me to fuck you and fill you up? you must be, to be so fucking greedy - already knocked you up and you still want my cum. fucking desperate,” he pulls you by the hair so your back is against his chest, bringing his other hand to your hip to use as leverage to fuck you even faster than you were already moving. “but i fucking love it. i fucking love you.”

“love you so much,” you whine, throwing an arm back and hooking it around matty's neck. “fuck, look at you. so fucking hot.”

“and all yours,” matty whispers in your ear, making you smile. his lips drop to your neck as he speeds up his thrusts, but his eyes never leave your reflection. he groans. “look at you, princess, my beautiful girl. all full of me. and those fucking tits - love them always, but i'm gonna fuckin miss the way they look right now when you're not pregnant anymore.”

“easy fix,” you giggle. “you'll just have to knock me up again.”

even if matty's hips didn't speed up impossibly more at your words, the noise he makes in response is almost enough to get you off. “i'll fucking do it, princess, if that's what you want. i'd do anything for you.”

“make me cum?”

“if you say the magic word.”

“please, daddy?”

he smiles, pressing a kiss to the side of your head and his fingers onto your clit; you moan as soon as they make contact, which only spurs matty on. “do it, then, princess. cum all over my fucking cock.”

your body reacts immediately to his command - all your muscles tighten and release, pleasure flowing through your nervous system and forcing a scream from your throat. matty groans as you grab hold of the counter again, the new angle letting him grab your hips and fuck recklessly into you, the syncopated rhythm a sure sign of his own imminent orgasm. “oh, fuck,” he whines, pulsing heat deep into your cunt and continuing to thrust into you. “fucking take it, princess, take it like the good little cumslut you are,” he stills inside you, still shaking from the aftershocks, resting his head on your shoulder. 

after a minute of mutual heavy breathing, matty looks up, meeting your eyes and beaming at you in the mirror. “i'm fucking knackered. worth it, though.”

“mmm,” you lean on your elbow. “thank you for indulging me, baby.”

“of course,” matty kisses your shoulder. “and you're unbelievably sexy when you're possessive, by the way. i'm getting turned on just thinking about it.”

you put your head in your hands. “oh my god, no, i cannot go for another round right now. i love you, but i need to go to sleep.”

“no, i agree, don’t worry,” your boyfriend laughs. “can you reach the tap, sweetheart?”

“yeah.”

“run that blue washcloth under the water and chuck us it, then, please?” matty inches out of you carefully, taking the flannel from you with a kiss and kneeling behind you with a moan. “christ, i'll never get over this sight.”

you huff out a laugh, hissing when matty gently wipes the flannel over your core with an “i know, baby, i'm sorry”; you perk up a bit when he stands and helps you straighten up, cradling the bump from behind you. “i love you, darling,” he kisses you. “both my darlings, actually. you feeling alright?”

“just sleepy. s'been a long day,” you snuggle into him. “proud of you. grateful for you. love you.”

“back at you, sweetheart.”

[toomuchracket]

keep dreaming (d word matty smut)

(pre-relationship. mentions of unprotected sex. basically, matty's in his bed and he simply cannot stop thinking about you...)

in an ideal world, matty wouldn't be doing this.

in an ideal world, he would have staved off the nerves, gotten a grip, bit the bullet, and asked you to come home with him. part of him thinks he should've - it's not as if he hasn't done it before, with girls nowhere near as beautiful and girls he didn't like half as much as you.

but that's the point, he thinks, that's why he didn't. you're too special to him for your first intimate moment to be a post-awards show shag at his house. granted, he'd fucking worship you if it was, both in bed and then out of it, for every subsequent minute of his life... but he'd far rather take you on a few dates and spoil you first, before getting you into bed.

you... bed... fuck. despite himself, matty can't stop thinking about it.

or stop from gently stroking himself to said thoughts, caving further into that little voice in his head saying "imagine what it would feel like if it was her hand instead of yours" on loop.

god, he's sick for this. but he can't help it. after all, matty knows all too well what your right hand - the hand you use to write memos to him at work, and therefore the one you would surely use on him in bed - feels like, wrapped around a part of his body. less than an hour ago, it had grasped his wrist as you tugged him to the dancefloor at the afterparty, beaming warmly enough to melt his heart and redden his cheeks.

and then it had slid down his hand and twisted to grip the tips of his fingers, and matty was a goner. he mimics the motion now on his cock with a breathy whimper of your name, and repeats it - this time, slightly more softly, slightly more like you would. shit. you would look so good wanking him off, matty thinks, the edges of your nails ever so lightly scraping against him as you move; those nails that kickstarted this specific fantasy of you giving him a handjob, after you excitedly showed him their design when you first saw him earlier, a design based on the band's newest album, described by you as "look, matty, you're all over my hands". he had smiled at the adorable gesture and kissed your palm in gratitude, but his thoughts had gone somewhere far dirtier - literally - at your words.

he's jumping the gun with thinking about his cum all over your pretty nails now, though, so matty goes back to imagining your handjob position - he thinks of you lying on your stomach in front of him, looking up that way you do when he tells you something interesting: those beautiful eyes of yours all sparkly and focused and knee weakening-ly distracting, pretty lips curved and cheeks lifted into a bashful little smile.

those lips... always so soft-looking (and feeling, matty's sure, given he's a frequent witness to your habit of religiously applying lipbalm) and definitely kissable, but even more so tonight, lined and glossy. the colour looked shockingly perfect on you, and when he first saw you earlier he'd had to shove down a memory of a makeup artist for a shoot telling him that the perfect lipstick colour is the same as one's nipples before he started spiralling. now, though, in the solitary comfort of his own bed, matty lets his brain wind itself into imagining yours, spots of that lipstick shade on your perfect tits - accentuated incredibly tonight by the black silk of your cocktail dress, it has to be said - and imagining the way they would brush against him as you moved forward to wrap your lips around him, the same way you wrapped them around one of the bottles of expensive champagne given to the band's table after they won.

fuck. matty's wrist speeds up almost involuntarily at the thought of you sucking him off, while his other hand threads itself into the bedsheets the same way he knows he'd thread it into your hair, sliding the soft waves of tonight's hairstyle away from your beautiful face. he knows you would smile around him at that, the same little sweet smile you give matty whenever he appears with a coffee for you or offers you a cig or does anything requiring a bit of thankfulness, followed by a little "thank you" and a hum of contentment when you get what you wanted or needed. it makes him swoon at the best of times - it would surely ruin him if you did it with his cock in your mouth.

matty speeds up his movement again, imagining you humming and moaning happily as you slide your mouth up and down his length, whimpering when the tip hits the back of your throat. ignoring the inkling of guilt that appears in the back of his mind as he does, matty wonders just how deep you'd be able to take him. not that he'd ever force you to do anything you couldn't or didn't want to, and not that it would matter, because he knows if you actually were to suck him off he'd have to fight not to cum immediately, but he has a sneaking suspicion that you'd try to completely deepthroat him - he knows how stubborn you are, and he's sure he's not hallucinating the way you blush whenever he thanks you for going above and beyond to help him out.

and it's not like he'd dissuade you from trying; at the thought of you, teary-eyed but turned-on, inching slowly down his length to take it all, throat closing slightly around him, lips and nose pressed against his lower stomach, moaning, he bucks his hips up again almost involuntarily with a whine, beginning to properly fuck his fist the way he would fuck your mouth if you wanted him to. would you swallow, matty wonders, take every last drop of his cum down your aching throat and clean off the tip with little kitten licks? would he let you?

or would he stop fucking your mouth as he feels the orgasm start to build, so he can fuck you until you both cum instead?

god. what a thought that is, matty gently coaxing your head up from his cock and kissing you, before rolling you onto your back and just burying himself inside you. he fucks his fist the way he would you, mixing slow, controlled thrusts in amongst shorter, sharper ones to rile you up, before setting a strong rhythm with his hips that - hopefully - would have you screaming for him. he groans your name at the thought of that, wanking desperately now - not necessarily desperate to make himself cum, but desperate to see your eyes roll back in time with his hips, your jaw drop in pleasure, those fucking tits of yours bounce with every thrust; to feel your lips on his as you kiss him like you're trying to devour him, your hot breath in his open mouth as you moan his name into it, your long, gorgeous nails digging crescents into his back, your legs quivering around his waist as you reach breaking point, and - the thing matty's most desperate for - your cunt clenching around his cock, as he circles your clit and pulls an orgasm out from within your very bones.

matty's so fucking close now, hips jerking wildly into his hand, eyes heavy and clouded with pleasure, a cacophony of moans and groans and cries of your name leaving his lips and turning to incoherent dirty talk as they meet the cold air of the bedroom. "ohhhhh, fuck, m'gonna fucking cum, baby, shit, need to fuck you, mmmmmmmph, gonna cum, gonna fucking cum."

there is, however, one final thing for matty to consider about his fantasies of you before he reaches his orgasm - where would he cum, if he was with you right now? he could pull out, and let you either finish him off in your hand or mouth, coating your throat or covering your pretty nails like he briefly imagined earlier. or he could finish himself over you, decorate your beautiful face, your gorgeous tits, your soft stomach and your thighs.

truthfully, he'd let you choose - he'd just be grateful for the opportunity to even get to do anything with you in bed, and you'd look perfect in any of these scenarios (and in any scenario in general, really). but if matty got to pick, and you were okay with it, he wouldn't choose any of them.

what matty would do is stay buried inside you and fill you up with his cum, thrusting through his orgasm with his head buried in your neck, feeling you milk his cock for everything he has.

it's a delicious thought, and it's what tips him over the edge; with a final groan of your name and a "fuck!", matty cums all over his own hand, whimpering and lightly stroking himself until he stops pulsing out white fluid, which flows over his hand to pool on his lower stomach, reaching the very edge of his hip tattoo. in the aftershocks of orgasm, he can't help but imagine you cleaning it off with your tongue; with his free hand, matty reaches over to grab a pillow he can groan into to calm down before he finds himself cumming to the thought of you yet again. christ. he really is into you, isn't he?

matty doesn't move for a few minutes - the orgasm was so strong and took so much out of him that he just lies on his bed silently, until his breathing regulates and he comes back down to earth a bit. when the liquid on his stomach starts to feel icky, that's when he finally moves, swinging his legs onto the floor and walking to the bathroom to shower. he cleans his body just fine, but the grossness in his brain lingers a minute longer - he really just got off to imagining fucking you, his trusted friend and colleague, like some sort of depraved teenager. jesus christ.

if only he knew you'd just grinded yourself to an orgasm on your pillow thinking of the exact same thing.

[toomuchracket]

on the bed in my room (d word matty x reader smut)

alternatively titled bejeweled (for @think0fmehigh only), or the butt plug fic. as you can imagine, it's fucking filthy, but also very sweet. hope you enjoy <3

the entire car journey home is silent.

it's not a bad sort-of silence, mind you. matty isn't angry, or upset - in the moments where it isn't wrapped around the gearstick or the handbrake, his hand still takes up its semi-regular position on your thigh as he drives, calloused fingers rubbing soothing circles into your denim-covered skin. he's just… speechless.

you rendered him - matty healy, famed chatterbox - totally speechless. the thought sends a flush of pride up through your bloodstream and into your cheeks.

matty blushes, too, every time he glances over at you. you'd like to think it's all your doing, that he's overcome by how pretty you are, framed by the heather-grey evening sky and illuminated by streetlights - and to be honest, that's probably partially true, knowing your boyfriend and his simp tendencies - but the spots of pink above those fucking cheekbones of his are absolutely less to do with you yourself and more to do with the full tote bag resting on your lap.

or, more accurately, to do with the pretty little jewelled butt plug tucked somewhere in the bag, hidden beneath and behind lace and mesh and silk and rope and glass and silicone and metal. 

you keep your eyes on the road, or look out of the passenger window, but you can still feel matty's flicking to and fro periodically. he watches out the windscreen, then looks at you, then at the bag. a few minutes pass, then he does the same thing again. lather, rinse, repeat.

from the corner of your eye, and because of the close proximity, you notice that matty's gaze always seems to land on your lips. as much as he's obsessed with them, you don't think his look is concerned with desire; he's searching for a hint of a smirk on your face, something to signify that your sparkly little purchase was made as a joke.

he won't find it: you're dead serious.

true, it's undeniable that you picking it up and taking it to the till was partially motivated by revenge - matty (as is his wont) was hell-bent on getting you flustered as you picked out new bedroom accoutrements together, while he smiled sweetly and wandered around the sex shop perusing nipple clamps or whatever as if nothing was the matter, and he certainly didn't count on you casually adding a butt plug to the pile and smiling just as sweetly as him as you did. he managed a whispered “wait, babe, are you serious?”, you responded with a wink, and he's been silent ever since, in sheer disbelief.

but, revenge aside, you do want to try it out, have done for a while. it's not something you've ever said to your boyfriend, out of some crass lingering teenage belief that “only slags want it up the bum”, a statement you heard the boys in your classes at school say so often it might as well have been a mantra. never mind that they got off to watching it online from their bedrooms every night, harboured fantasies of doing it with the pretty girls they watched like hawks when they walked past them in the corridors - if a girl asked to do anal, or anything relating to it, she was a slut. end of.

obviously, that's a load of bollocks, and nobody's said it in your vicinity for five years. but still… it's a hard association to shake. even now, with the tenner for an actual butt plug charged to your boyfriend's credit card and the thing itself on your knee, you’re hesitant to discuss it with matty, resolving to let him be the one to break the silence and bring it up.

it takes him a while, though - to say anything at all, actually. you brace yourself for questioning when he parks outside the house, but all matty does is wordlessly take the tote bag from your lap, quickly kiss your temple out of habit, and go to grab the rest of today's shopping from the backseat to carry it inside. even when the front door is firmly closed behind you, neither of you speak; he busies himself unpacking the tote bag, while you put away the new housey bits and clothes you picked up today.

walking through from the spare room you and your boyfriend use as a makeshift walk-in wardrobe, you find him sitting on the edge of your bed, turning the boxed plug over in his hands. tentatively, you sit down beside him, unclasping your watch and placing it on the bedside table, just to stop yourself nervously biting your nails in the silence.

you needn't be nervous, though. matty turns to you practically as soon as you sit down, his handsome face set in a pleasantly neutral expression. “hi.”

“hi,” you reply with a sweet smile, shifting on the bed to face him.

“so,” matty begins, tapping his thumbs against the cardboard box. he looks down at it before his eyes lock on your own, a tenderness amidst the pretty brown. “this… accessory.”

“yes?”

“i take it that's - and excuse the pun, please, darling - an area you want to explore?”

you bite your lip to keep from laughing, but you allow your cheeks to lift into a smile mirroring matty's as you nod. “i do want that, yeah.”

“alright,” matty nods thoughtfully. “it's just, well, that you've never brought it up until now. was a bit taken aback by it, if i'm honest.”

your expression must sour without your awareness, because he takes your hand and quickly continues talking. “not in a bad way, sweetheart! was just surprised, s'all. it's… yeah, it's quite a thing to be into.”

“you don't think it's weird that i want to try it, do you? or, like, off-putting?” you ask, voice small, looking down at your fluffy socks. “because if you do, we can just forget-”

“hey, no, sweetheart, none of that,” matty gently cups your jaw and lifts it so he can look at you. “i'm not put off by the idea at all - if you want to try it, then we'll try it, yeah?”

you smile as he presses a kiss to your forehead, but it's short-lived. “but do you want to try it?”

matty's eyes narrow. “you're not just doing this because you think i want it, are you?”

“no!” you clasp at matty's hand. “i just need to know i'm not asking you to do something you don't want.”

“oh, my sweet girl,” matty kisses you quickly, pulling back to stroke your cheek. “believe me, you don't have to worry about me not wanting to try it, fucking hell.”

fuck.

you wrap your arms around your boyfriend's neck as you climb onto his lap, enjoying the way his breath hitches when your nails lightly scratch the nape and your fingers begin to work themselves into his hair. these little moments of you holding all the sexual power are fleeting, few and far between, so you exploit them as much as you can whenever they present themselves, and generally just try to make matty fold like a deckchair. “have you thought about stretching me out, daddy?”

“christ,” matty rests his head on your shoulder, overcome. “would you think i was a creep if i said yes?”

“if i didn't fancy you so much, yeah,” you giggle, turning your head to press a kiss to your boyfriend's curls. “but no - i like hearing that you think about me sexually like that. turns me on to know i'm the object of your fantasies, the only one.”

“yeah? that's a bit possessive of you, sweetheart. correct, but possessive.”

“pot, kettle,” you smirk, kissing matty when he lifts his head to stick his tongue out at you.

matty softly nudges his head into yours. “thought you liked that?”

“i do. i love it, being yours,” you reach back and move matty's hand further down your back, until it rests just under your tailbone. “and i want all of me to be completely yours. every single hole.”

“oh, i fucking love you,” matty groans, lips trailing from your own, over your jaw, onto your neck; you whimper as he sucks a bruise into the skin above your collarbone, hips automatically grinding down onto his. “if that's what you want, my perfect girl, then that's what you'll get. need to work up to you taking my cock, though, yeah? have to make sure you're comfortable when i fuck that cute little hole for the first time.”

you whine at that, speeding up your grinding to relieve the wanton need matty's words sent straight to your cunt. “want to start now, daddy, please.”

“hmmmm,” matty holds your hips, slowing down your movements in order to think. he tuts when you frown and grumble at him in frustration, both regular and sexual varieties. “oi! don't be greedy, princess.”

“but-”

“good girls don't say ‘but’, do they?”

you sigh. “no, daddy. m'sorry.”

“you will be, princess,” matty smirks, and you hate it. “because now you'll have to wait for me to start stretching you out. i was gonna do it now, before you got all cheeky, but i'm afraid you'll have to want me a little bit longer. understand?”

reluctantly: “i understand, daddy.”

“good girl,” matty kisses your nose - despite yourself, you smile. “come on, darling, let's have a brew, yeah? and then we can try out that new bubble bath you got earlier, if you like.”

you nod. “i’d like that, yeah. thank you.”

“you're welcome, sweetheart.”

and it's a nice evening, despite the lingering desire in your body not being helped at all by sharing a bath with a naked and soaking wet matty. he's a gentleman, for once, though, hugging you and kissing along your shoulders as he sits behind you in the warm water, singing old love songs into your hair as you lie back on his hard chest, just taking the time to be tender and romantic with you. 

you love it. you love him. you love the way he makes you feel so special, so good, so cared for.

and you'd love him to make you feel like that in another sense, now. matty's touches on your body may be chaste, but there's an inherent electricity in his skin whenever it meets yours; every caress sends a shock through your nervous system, culminating in the bundle between your legs and leaving you wet in a way that isn't caused by the lavender-scented water.

thankfully, he doesn't make you wait too much longer.

after the bath, once you've dutifully slathered each other in the fancy body lotion matty loves stealing from you, washed your hands again, and dried off, you end up in your favourite state: naked, in bed, on your boyfriend's lap, lazily making out and giggling “i love you”s between kisses. it's the most intimate way of being with him, you think, both of you so physically and emotionally open, with nothing on your mind except the love you have for each other.

well, that isn't strictly true - love might be the overwhelming feeling in your brain, but the inkling of desire in the back grows bigger with every kiss. matty's the same, as evidenced by the way his hands move to squeeze your bum tightly, and by the way his kisses get ever more intense, teeth catching on your top lip and tongue exploring your mouth. soon enough, you find yourself grinding on his lap again, electrified by the feeling of matty getting hard beneath you.

like earlier, he's the one to talk first, reluctantly breaking away from your lips and panting. “god, i really want you.”

“feeling's mutual,” you gasp at the feeling of friction on your clit.

“yeah?” matty's voice is sickeningly sweet. “what do you want me to do to you, princess?”

“i- oh, please,” your voice comes out in a whimper, as matty's right hand moves inward from the flesh of your bum, his middle finger circling the outside of the hole you're so desperate for him to fill. “want you to fill me there, daddy.”

“can i? you're sure that's what you want?”

you smile at the sincerity in those pretty brown eyes. “i'm sure, my love.”

“alright,” matty blushes at the pet name. fuck, you love him so much. “can you pass me the lube from the drawer there, please, princess?”

you oblige, matty holding your waist to keep you from falling as you grab the blue bottle from the bedside table. “we'll probably need to get more of this soon, baby. used more than i thought trying to get those leather leggings on last month.”

“fuck, those leggings,” matty groans, closing his eyes and resting his head back on the headboard. “that was evil of you, wearing those to that party and expecting me to be alright.”

“no, what was evil was you actually ripping them off me when we got home. sixty quid down the drain!”

“if you'd seen your arse in them, sweetheart, you would've understood that i had no choice but to rip them off and fuck you.”

you smirk, and whisper in your boyfriend's ear. “did you wish that's what you were fucking instead?”

“well, i didn't wish it… but my mind did wander there, yeah.”

“soon, baby,” you kiss his forehead, placing the lube in the palm of his hand. “especially if we start working on me now.”

matty giggles, not unkindly. “point taken, my girl.”

“i actually will be totally yours in a minute,” you say gleefully, matty kissing your cheek in response as he noisily squeezes some lube out of the bottle and covers the middle and ring fingers of his right hand. “oh my god, that sound. it's so awkward.”

“nah, s'good. sounds like you when you're turned on.”

“shut up. no it doesn't!”

“don't deny it, princess,” matty grins. “can feel how fucking wet you are for me already. i love it.”

you bury your head into the crook of his neck. “just really want you in my ass, daddy. turns me on thinking about it.”

“shit, you’re so hot. my perfect girl,” matty groans - you copy the noise, when his lubed fingers return to circling your tight hole. “gonna give you what you want now, princess, alright? tell me if it's too much, or you want to stop. you know your colours, yeah?”

“yes, daddy.”

“good girl. alright - gonna slip a finger in you now, sweetheart, so i need you to stay relaxed. s'just me, yeah? just me. nothing to worry about.”

you nod, pouting your lips for a kiss. matty obliges, pulling back quickly so he can look at you. when he sees you smile, he returns it with a whispered “i love you”; you return the sentiment eagerly.

and then he starts to slowly push his middle finger into you.

your jaw drops at the new sensation, breath catching in your throat as your boyfriend carefully manipulates the ring of muscle. his eyes don't leave yours the whole time, pretty lips slightly agape as he takes over this part of your body for the first time. neither of you make any sound, your heavy breathing the only noise in the bedroom, until the newness begins to ebb slightly in deference to pleasure; then, you hum at the feeling of sheer fullness.

it feels good. really good.

the pleasure must show on your face, because matty's breaks into a loving smile. “you like it, princess?”

“yeah,” you breathe, caressing his cheek. “i love it.”

“i'm glad, darling,” matty leans forward to kiss you, surprisingly tenderly given where his right hand is. “feel so good around me. so fucking tight. christ, thank you for letting me do this.”

“i should be the one thanking you!” you giggle. “love the way you feel in my little hole, daddy.”

with a sort-of strangled moan, matty kisses you again, harder this time. “are you ready for me to finger it properly, princess?”

“please.”

“always so sweet for me, even when you're being dirty. my good girl,” matty smiles. “ready?”

“yeah.”

matty nods, ever so slightly pulling his finger back out of you, before working it back in. you blink repeatedly at the new feeling - again, pleasurable. “oh.”

“colour?”

“green, green green green. please don't stop,” you moan, shuffling your hips slightly in an attempt to offset how turned on you are. “fuck, daddy, please keep going.”

“jesus christ,” matty breathes, obliging your request. “you fucking love this, don't you, princess? you’re fucking soaking me.”

you nod, breath catching in your throat again; it passes quickly, though, and you speak. “can you - shit - can you speed up, please?”

“think you can take it?”

“yeah, i can take it. wanna take it, wanna take it so bad,” you babble, eyes never breaking from matty's lust-darkened ones. “please, daddy, need you.”

“sweet girl,” a kiss to your forehead, incongruous with the speeding up of his right hand. “grind on me too, if you like, princess; can't neglect that pretty little pussy, can we?”

“thank you, daddy,” you gasp out, rocking your hips back and forth. the friction on your clit combined with the fullness in your ass is heavenly, sending sparks right through your body. “fuck, that's so good.”

matty hisses when you catch the tip of his cock with your clit - he smiles, though, when your eyes widen. “feels fucking amazing, doesn't it, princess?”

“yeah,” you moan into your boyfriend's mouth, sinking your teeth into his lower lip when the pleasure in your body increases. a wave of boldness follows it, and you pull back so just your foreheads touch. through it all, you don't stop grinding, and matty doesn't stop fingering. “can i try taking another finger?”

“princess wants daddy to stretch her out even further?” matty smirks, lips moving down to your neck. “if you're sure you can take it, swee-”

“i can, i can take it,” you nod furiously, almost as furiously as your hips grind down onto your boyfriend. “if it's too much, i'll tell you. i promise.”

matty takes his time replying, in favour of sucking another bruise on your neck - you don't need to look to know it’ll form a heart with the one from earlier. “alright.”

he pulls his middle finger out further than he ever has, until only the hint of his fingertip is still inside you; when he slides it back in, his ring finger is flush against it. there's less resistance than there was when matty first fingered you, but you still feel the stretch of the extra digit.

you fucking love it.

“oh, yes,” you smile slightly dazedly at your boyfriend, who returns the expression eagerly. “thank you, daddy.”

“pleasure’s all mine, princess. now,” matty's face turns slightly more serious. he puts his free hand on your cheek. “i want you to cum for me. will you do that for me, my perfect girl?”

the ecstasy beginning to seriously cloud your brain suggests that that won't be a difficult task at all. you nod, turning your head to kiss matty's palm. “yeah. just… please don't stop.”

“i won't, darling. don't stop grinding on me, either, yeah? use me to make yourself feel good. s'all for you, all about you, gorgeous.”

the praise makes you preen, makes your hips speed up, makes matty move his hand faster and tip his head back as you slide along his dick. “like that?”

“just like that, fuck,” matty's eyes close. “if you keep that up, princess, i'll cum too.”

that's all the motivation you need - you move your hips even faster, eliciting a cracked groan from your boyfriend's throat. he looks at you softly, and giggles. “you're such a fucking sub, baby, it's so cute. getting daddy off just gets you off, doesn't it? my good girl, my favourite girl.”

his words shoot straight to your cunt, to the bundle of nerves already stimulated to the point of climax; the telltale tightening in your stomach signifies you're almost there. you seem to be tightening elsewhere, too, as evidenced by matty's “christ, i can't wait to fuck you here”.

your head drops onto his shoulder, his left hand coming up to hold you there while your hips thrash - there's no other word for it - in pursuit of your imminent orgasm. “please.”

whether you're begging for him to fuck you or to let you cum, you've no idea. neither does matty, but he addresses both things, cooing into your hair while his fingers refuse to let up on you. “cum for me first, sweetheart, need you to cum before i can fuck you. keep those hips moving for me, that's it, my perfect girl, cum all over me.”

you couldn't deny his request even if you wanted to. the orgasm hits you like a freight train, dragging a cry from your throat and sending your limbs into convulsions. somewhere in the midst of it all, matty pulls his fingers out of you so he can wrap both arms around your waist, holding you tight and cooing praises into your ear while you come down from the high.

“i've got you, darling, you're alright,” matty murmurs, tracing soothing patterns on your spine. “i know, it was intense. but you were so good, so fucking perfect for me. have a rest for a bit, sweet girl, that's it.”

he kisses your hair while you come to; as your breathing and limbs begin to settle, though, so does a shocking realisation. “wait, matty, you didn't cum! shit - let me…”

“no, no, sweetheart, listen to me,” matty says, firm without being aggressive, coaxing your head up so he can look at you. “like i said, this is all about you. and i've got an idea, if you feel up to it.”

you raise a brow. “what?”

“well,” matty begins, smiling softly. “i think you're probably relaxed enough after your orgasm for us to try out your new accessory, yeah?”

oh. another rush of heat finds its way between your legs at the thought. you nod, slowly, smiling excitedly at your boyfriend. “i like the sound of that.”

“really? because we can wait if you need to, of course, darling, i just think that it'll be less uncomfortable now and-”

“matty,” you stroke his hair, relishing the way his eyes close contentedly. “green.”

he pauses and smiles, looking at you lovingly. “alright. hands and knees then, please, princess. actually, before you do,” he grabs your jaw and pulls you in for a searing kiss. “couldn't help myself.”

you giggle. “i love you.”

“i love you too,” another kiss, then a gentle slap to your bum. “right, face the mirror for me, babe.”

you do as requested, shuffling onto your hands and knees facing the end of the bed. the sight of your reflection in the mirror startles you slightly - not from how fucked-out you look, because that's a common sight in this particular mirror, but because of the clear happiness radiating from you. what can you say, though? you just really love matty, and how good he makes you feel.

and the way he looks at you, like he's doing now; his bottom lip is between his teeth, lust evident in his reflected eyes even from a few feet away, chest heaving slightly with his heavy breathing as he looks at you, all bare and ready for the taking.

as he should. you look fucking delectable.

matty seems to think that, too - before you can even say anything, he ducks out of sight behind you, and half a second later you feel his flat tongue catching the arousal dripping from your still-sensitive cunt, and dipping inside to the hilt.

you squeal at the feeling, a mixture of shock and pleasure. “matty!”

“sorry, sweetheart,” your boyfriend pops back up into your line of vision, catching your eye and winking as he wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. “couldn't resist.”

“s'ok. i liked it,” you smile back at him in the mirror. “but i don't think i can wait any longer for the plug, honestly. m'sorry. i don't mean to be impatient,” you go for the jugular with your next sentence. “just need you to fill up my little hole again, daddy.”

“right, you need to rein in saying stuff like that, princess,” matty groans as he unboxes the plug; the silver jewel on the end glints in the lamplight in the loveliest way. “i'm hard enough as it is.”

“i can see that,” you hum in appreciation, while your boyfriend busies himself with lubing up both you and the plug; you wince at the coolness of the liquid on your warm body.

matty notices. “sorry, sweetheart. here, let me just,” he takes the plug and clasps his palms tightly around the metal for a moment. “there. slightly warmer, i think.”

“thank you.”

“not a problem, sweetheart. now,” matty shuffles into position behind you, excitement practically radiating off him. “are you ready?”

you nod, elated anticipation coursing through your veins.

“words, princess.”

“sorry,” you clear your throat, smiling - and blushing - at matty through the mirror. “yes, daddy, i'm ready for you to put the plug inside me.”

“fuck, that's so sexy,” matty groans. he winks at you. “eyes on the mirror, sweetheart. i want you to watch yourself taking it.”

“ok,” you murmur, eyes already locked on your own reflection.

matty kisses your shoulder, then leans back. you feel cool metal on your skin, and your lips part at the sensation; they slowly drop into an O, matching pace with the plug as your boyfriend slowly works it inside your ass.

your gaze flicks up to matty's face, contorted into a stunning expression of concentration, desire, disbelief. the middle emotion wins out on both of your faces as you feel the jewelled base of the plug meet your skin; you feel so deliciously full, even more so than you did with matty's fingers, and the most turned-on you think you've ever been.

fuck, this was a great idea.

your boyfriend agrees - it's obvious from the way he can't tear his eyes off your bum, emphasised by his murmured words. “sweetheart… you are, without question, the sexiest thing i have ever, ever seen. christ. how do you feel, princess? talk to me, please.”

“feel amazing,” you all but whimper in return. “so fucking turned on, daddy.”

“i can see that, princess,” matty ghosts his thumb up your folds, catching your wetness and circling it around the jewel adorning your other hole. “fuck, i'm never going to get over this sight. my perfect girl, sparkling for me.”

you giggle at the compliment, moving onto your elbows to stretch; when you go back to resting on your hands, you inadvertently shuffle back slightly too much and brush against your boyfriend's dick. before you can apologise, though, his hands are on your hips, pulling you flush against him and grinding into you with a “feel what you're doing to me, darling. feel how much i want you right now.”

“then take me, daddy,” you whine, spreading your legs slightly wider. “you let me use you. i want you to do the same.”

“yeah? you want both holes filled at the same time, princess? fuck, you're so needy for me, aren't you?”

“mhmm. need you inside me, too, daddy,” you meet his gaze in the mirror again. “please?”

your favourite phrase: “whatever my favourite girl wants.”

as soon as he's choked the words out, matty slides home into your waiting cunt, gasping at the feeling. “oh, baby, you really weren't kidding about being wet, jesus christ. and i can feel the plug, shit. how you feeling, princess? colour?”

“yellow. i'm fine, i'm good, really fucking good,” you wave away matty's worries before he can even express them. “just… so full. need a second.”

“of course, my love,” matty rubs little circles into your hips to relax you, staying as still as he can to allow you to adjust to the double penetration. “so fucking grateful for you - always am, but especially now. taking everything i give you so perfectly, my perfect girl. let me know when you're ready, yeah? we'll take as long as you need.”

“thank you, daddy.”

“it's alright, princess.”

you smile at your boyfriend’s reflection - it's eagerly returned - and continue taking deep breaths, trying to get used to the overwhelming feeling of being filled in both holes. after eight breaths, the strangeness begins to subside, and you feel yourself aching for friction, somewhere, anywhere.

“daddy? m'green again,” you murmur, looking wide-eyed at matty. “want you to fuck me now, please.”

“positive?”

“yes.”

“right, then,” matty nods, pulling his hips back and thrusting into you again - not particularly quickly or forcefully, but just enough that you really feel it. his eyes snap shut in pleasure. “oh, princess, i don't think i'm going to last very long. you just feel too - fucking - good.”

his words are timed with his thrusts, which speed up slightly as per your moaned requests. “s'ok, daddy,” you whine, eyes rolling back into your head with one especially good move. “want you to cum for me, anyway.”

“you first,” comes the cheeky reply.

a huff of a laugh leaves your body at that, but you don't think matty's request is an unfeasible one - you're still sensitive from your previous orgasm, he's fucking you within an inch of your life, and - to top it all off - you have the plug in your ass, providing even more stimulation than usual.

put simply, this is the best sex you've ever had.

matty smiles when you tell him as much. “me too, princess. feel like i'm fucking dreaming.”

“yeah…” you sigh, pleasure beginning to gather and grow within your stomach again, increasing bit by bit with every one of your boyfriend's thrusts. “shit, i'm getting close. can i cum, please, daddy?”

matty's grasp on your hips tightens - so do your holes - and he speeds up his movements even more. “do it, princess, whenever you need to. cum for me, all over me, make me yours. be a good girl and cum on my dick, please.”

it's the plea that gets you.

not the plug in your ass, not the thorough fucking, not even the dirty talk and the pet names and the praise. it's matty begging you to cum that shatters the epicurean bundle in your stomach, sending ecstasy careening through your nervous system and bloodstream, and liquid arousal gushing out of you and onto both matty and the bed.

“fuck!” matty practically wails, thrusts simultaneously speeding up and stuttering as he too reaches his climax. “fuck, princess, m'gonna cum, gonna fucking cum. where d'you-”

“inside,” you choke out, fingers clasping at the bedsheets as the aftershocks of orgasm hit you. “fill me up, daddy, please.”

“yeah, yeah, gonna fucking fill you up, fill that little pussy with my cum,” matty mutters to nobody in particular, teetering on the edge of orgasm. “made to fucking take it, take me, weren't you- oh, fuck, princess.”

with that, he's finished, hips flush against yours yet again as he pulses heat into you. aside from your respective panting, the obscenely wet sound of matty pulling out of your cunt is the only thing audible; your limbs give way as soon as he's disconnected, body flopping to the mattress in sheer - but elated - exhaustion.

matty sits back on his knees for a minute or two (really, neither of you have any real concept of time at the moment), looking lovingly down at you and stroking your hair. “you alright, sweetheart?”

“mhmm,” comes the faint reply. “sleepy.”

“same here, babe,” matty laughs breathily. “fucking loved that, though.”

you nod, with great effort. “was so good. thank you. need to sleep now.”

“whoa, whoa, hang on,” matty scrambles off the bed as quickly as he can. “let me get stuff to clean you up first, darling.”

you hum in acknowledgement as he speeds off to the bathroom, too tired to properly notice he's gone; you perk up when he returns and gently starts twisting the plug to get it out of you. “this is definitely going to feel weird, sweetheart, but we need to take the plug out now, yeah? s'too much for you if we leave it in, i think. you good with that?”

“yeah, s'smart,” you wince at the sensation of the metal leaving your body, but it passes as quickly as it came on. “so,” you tilt your head to look at matty in the mirror. “how does it look?”

your boyfriend laughs, in what seems like slight shock. “looks so fucking hot, babe. especially with the cum dripping out of your pussy, too - christ, i really did a number on you today, didn't i?”

“i liked it.”

“i know, sweetheart,” matty coos, gently wiping your cunt with a damp washcloth. “took me so fucking well. can't quite believe we just did that, to be honest. thank you. i love you, so much.”

“i love you,” you use the last of your energy to roll over and beckon your boyfriend to you for a kiss; he enthusiastically obliges. “can't wait until we get to do that again.”

“neither can i, sweetheart, but first… another brew?”

“please.”

[toomuchracket]

totally wrecked (d word matty x reader smut)

(yo. you should all know what this is, because you voted for it, but if not... a loooong one, full of unprotected bathroom counter sex, mirror fingering, cumplay, and a tiny little bit of the d word being used. FIRMLY 18+, because it's filthy lmao. ok love you all hope you enjoy <3)

"fuck, you're tight. i don't think - shit, so fucking good, taking me so fucking well - fuck, i don't think i'm going to last much longer, princess."

you can barely hear matty speak, despite the fact your face is tucked into the crook of his neck and you can feel the vibrations of his words (well, moans) against your flushed cheek. he's fucking you relentlessly on top of the granite bathroom counter in his hotel suite, and the wet, slapping sound of his hips driving into yours is the most audible thing in the room; it's so loud, in fact, that it almost drowns out the saturday night soundtrack of the new york city streets outside. it's only been a week since you last saw (and fucked) your boyfriend, but the way he's got your legs wrapped like a vice around his waist and desperately pulls your bum forward to meet his powerful thrusts... one would think you hadn't seen him in months.

although, the way matty's been railing you nonstop through multiple orgasms so far probably has less to do with the time you've spent apart and more to do with what's happened since you reunited two hours ago - namely, the ruined handjob you gave him in the shower, bringing him (slightly sleepy, extremely sappy, and thus putty in your hands) to the edge of release twice, but stopping your motions before any orgasm could properly hit. before you could go for a third time, however, matty snapped and lifted you onto the counter you're currently perched on the edge of. in stark contrast to your teasing method of orgasm deprivation, his means of retaliation is to overload you with them, making you cum over and over and over, until you're teetering on the verge of tears, consciousness, sanity itself. and it's working; you're whimpering with every movement of matty's hips, your brain so clouded from constant pleasure that you genuinely fear you won't be able to function at all if you loosen your grasp on his curls and his back.

sudden pressure on your clit tears a scream from your scratchy throat, making your head snap back in shock. matty - looking as fucked out as you feel, flushed and sweaty and gorgeous as ever - has the absolute cheek to smile sweetly at you as if nothing's happening, all the while continuing to rub tiny circles onto your sensitive bundle of nerves despite your body's convulsions and the whines you can't stop making. "want you to cum again for me, princess," he murmurs, voice echoed by a moan. "need you to be a good girl and cum all over my dick for me, make me cum. you'd - fuck, you're so wet - you'd do that for me, wouldn't you, be my good girl? think i deserve it, since you wouldn't let me cum earlier."

oh, he's fucking sick. he's also right - he does deserve you being good for him, but even the mere thought of another orgasm has you almost blacking out. so you shake your head violently, tears spilling out over your lower lashline and splattering all over you and matty and the counter. "can't, i can't do it, too - mmm - sensitive."

"yeah you can, princess, you can do it," matty coos, the softness in his voice and eyes a total juxtaposition to the brutal pace he's fucking you at. he leans in to give you a quick kiss, and despite your despair at his behaviour you return it eagerly. "just one more for me, sweetheart, that's all i'm asking. what's one more orgasm, after all the others i've given you today, hmm? c'mon, you can do it a final time, my perfect girl, cum for me one more time. please?"

it's the plea that does you in - you're incapable of resisting matty when he goes all sweet on you. and for the second time in probably as many minutes - although you're so dazed that your grasp on the passage of time is probably ballerina-slender at best - he's right. as soon as matty's encouragement begins, so too does the rapid increase of heat in your core, growing and growing with every thrust or clit-circle from your boyfriend. with a cry of "shit, shit, matty!", it explodes into light; you're a supernova, a collapsing star, kept only from falling into an exhaustion-induced black hole by matty's hold on your body.

as you cum for the final time, his hand moves from your clit to behind your head, silently but lovingly nudging you back into the crook of his neck as he chases his own release. the gravitational pull from your own orgasm means he doesn't have far to go, though - within seconds, matty's gasping out your name, thrusts faltering as the pleasure in his body reaches its peak. "'m so fucking close, fuck, babe. where d'you want me?"

"inside, fill me up," you whine into matty's neck, still reeling from the shockwaves of your own ending. on nothing more than base instinct, you suck a mark into the spot your lips have recently inhabited, grazing your teeth over it - at that, matty groans, holding both your hips to get as deep inside you as he can and fulfil your request of being filled with his release. you feel heat in your core again as he does, but this is no stellar demise; it's a rekindling, leaving the two of you glowing with satisfaction.

while he's still inside you, matty's hands slide up from your hips so that he can wrap his arms around your waist. yours slide down from his hair and upper back to copy him, and the two of you just stay clutching each other wordlessly until your breathing regulates and your vision is less blurry and everything feels a bit more... real. matty presses a kiss to your sweaty forehead, then another to the tip of your nose, and finally one on your lips. "did so well for me, sweetheart, thank you. i love you."

"i love you too. thank you baby, that was amazing," you smile sleepily at your boyfriend, who takes the chance to kiss you again with a smile to match your own. "gonna be sore tomorrow, though."

"i'll take care of you, my darling, don't you worry," matty says, brushing your (likely horrendously messy) hair from your face. "d'you feel up for having a bath now? might help prevent some of the aching."

"mmm, yeah, that sounds nice."

"alright, sweetheart, whatever you want," matty takes both your hands in his own and kisses each of them in turn, which elicits a giggle from you. "gonna pull out now, ok?"

you nod, shuffling your now-numb backside as best you can to brace yourself for the imminent discomfort. still holding your hands, matty hisses as he detaches his hips from your own; you wince at the loss of him, but the feeling passes as quickly as it came on. "that wasn't so bad - babe, are you ok?"

your question falls on deaf ears, as your boyfriend does nothing but stare down between your still-open legs as if entranced. his already-dark eyes are still black with lust, both pupils and eyelids wider than normal. when you brush your fingers against his face, matty snaps out of his little reverie and turns his head to kiss your palm with a tender smile, but his gaze falls back to your core within seconds. you giggle, and only then do his eyes flick up to your face. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," he begins, sheepish tone almost comical in comparison to the dominance he displayed over you less than five minutes ago. "just can't get over how perfect you look with my cum dripping out of you. still not used to it - don't think i ever will be, to be honest."

"jesus christ, you're such a boy sometimes," you grin, rolling your eyes despite the shivers of arousal that rolled down your spine at matty's words.

"you know full well i'm a man, princess, thank you very much" comes your boyfriend's indignant reply, accompanied by a light flick to your thigh.

"like i could ever forget, with that daft tattoo."

"negativity? pretty bold for a woman who just let me creampie her, no?"

you fake retch. "if you ever refer to it as that in future, matthew, you're never doing it to me ever again."

"fuck, ok. i'm sorry, sweetheart," matty presses little kisses all over your face in effusive apology, pulling giggles and contented little hums from you. "horrible word, i agree. uncouth."

you snort. "you really like cumming inside me, huh? never seen you cave for anything so quickly."

"baby, it's the sexiest thing on the fucking planet," matty grins, kissing your head. he taps your bum once. "turn around for me and have a look, yeah?"

you lean up to kiss matty quickly, murmuring an "ok" against his lips, before lifting your legs onto the counter and beginning the awkward swivel to look in the mirror on the wall. the granite is so wide and smooth that you technically should be able to turn 180 degrees no problem, but the shaky numbness of your legs hinders you slightly - matty helps by grabbing and adjusting your hips, then spreading your legs, standing flush against your back to ensure you don't fall backwards. and when you see yourself, you almost do, out of sheer shock.

it's not that you look bad; in fact, it's the opposite. you look like sex itself. yeah, your cheeks are ruby-woo-red and your hair is perhaps the least neat it's ever been, but you look ridiculously hot like this, fucked-out and messy, all heaving chest and sparkling eyes and kiss-bitten lips and a sense of incredible pleasure just radiating from you. but perhaps the most erotic thing about your appearance is the little drops of white trailing down your ruined core, juices from a summer nectarine. is it anywhere near as sweet?

"matty," you whisper, still staring at the sight between your legs. "i want to know what we taste like. can i?"

"fuck," matty groans, bowing his head so his forehead is pressed against the back of yours. he inhales deeply, then leans to rest his head on your shoulder, kissing your neck lightly. "whatever you want, princess, you'll get."

with that, he brings a calloused hand round and drags the pads of his middle and ring fingers up your core, catching the drops of his own cum as he does. you whimper when they brush against your swollen, sensitive clit, which earns you a "sorry, sweetheart" and a kiss to your temple before matty's holding his fingers in front of your lips. wordlessly, and looking at matty in the mirror the whole time to see his reaction, you take his fingers into your mouth to the knuckle, dragging your tongue up and across them before sucking and releasing them with a wet pop. matty whines - actually whines - at the sensation, throwing his head back in arousal before leaning back in to kiss your neck. "good?"

you nod, savouring the salt of him and tang of you on your tongue, a little bit like one of the margaritas you had at drinks earlier. then you tilt your head towards matty and pout your lips slightly. "have a taste for yourself, angel."

matty smiles sweetly at you, before grabbing your jaw and pressing his lips to your own. so quickly and instinctively that you would be embarrassed if you weren't so turned on, your mouth opens to let his tongue in. you love all of matty's kisses, but these types are your favourite - long and sloppy and and head-spinning, matty taking up your mouth with his own so completely it's almost like he's trying to devour you. you think you'd let him; you'd let him do anything with that mouth, quite frankly.

that mouth, which you capture the bottom lip of between your teeth and release slowly, pulling back from your boyfriend purely so you can breathe. he lets out a shaky breath as you do - which inflates your ego by an astronomical degree - and murmurs your name dreamily, before wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your neck. your eyes meet again in the mirror a few seconds later, his and hers gazes trailing down your reflection to the space between your legs. you sigh when you don't see any more white trickling out of you, and matty giggles when he realises what you're irked about. "you are such a little slut and i am in love with you. are you really pouting because you can't see my cum spilling out of you anymore? incredible."

"stop itttttt," you whine, burying your face in your hands. "i just think it's hot to look at. and s'your fault that i can't, because you came so deep in me."

"generally, sweetheart, that's the point of a cr- cumming inside someone."

"i know, i know. just quite like seeing it, s'all."

"i know you do, princess, i was just teasing," matty says sweetly, resting his head on top of your own. a beat passes, then you see his pretty face light up in the way you've come to recognise as his "i'm a fucking genius" mode in the mirror. "and i've got an idea, if you're feeling up for it."

you narrow your eyes. "what?"

"well, provided you're a bit less sensitive than you were... let me finger my cum out of you."

fuck. fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

another shiver of arousal rolls down the back of your neck and spine, making you sit up a bit straighter. you swallow before responding. "yeah, ok."

"you sure, sweetheart?" matty hooks his index finger under your jaw and turns your head to face him. "because if you're not feeling alright, we can go and have a bath and chill."

"no, i'm alright, babe," you say, pecking matty on the lips. "really. i'll tell you if i need to stop. i know the safeword."

"good girl," matty reciprocates your peck. "have fun, princess."

with that, his mouth is back on your neck again, lightly sucking a bruise into the soft skin while his hands come around to your boobs. calloused fingers lightly brush over your nipples at first, matty rubbing little circles into them exactly as he would on your clit - initially softly, sweetly, pressure increasing the more you moan and whine and arch your back into him. the pleasure wafting across your body is gentle, soft, a sense of contentment; that soon shifts into elation when matty suddenly pinches your nipples, rolling them between his fingers as he says "so fucking gorgeous, all spread out for me. want me to keep going?"

you whimper out a reply, hips beginning to grind into thin air. "need your fingers inside me, please, need them now."

"whatever you want, princess."

with that, matty leans around to capture your lips in another passionate kiss. this one is slightly different to the last - the underlying motivation behind it is love, not lust. you allow yourself to relax a little, bask in the glow of the love you and matty have for each other, and so you're pleasantly shocked at the sudden feeling of his middle finger teasing your entrance. "fuck, yes," you moan against matty's lips. "fuck me with it, please."

matty's other hand comes down to your left thigh, spreading it even further out as he circles your - arguably soaked - hole with the other. "watch me do it, then."

you do as you're told, gluing your eyes to your own core. with a kiss to your shoulder far too chaste for the circumstances, matty slides his finger inside you and begins to pump it slowly. "fuck, baby," he moans into your skin. "touch your tits for me, make yourself feel good. god, so fucking hot, so good for me."

with a whine, you bring your hands up to your nipples in an imitation of the motions matty was doing a moment ago - a poor imitation, but it does the trick nonetheless. and really, you could get away with doing nothing at all and still get lost in how good matty's finger feels inside you, hooking upwards before thrusting in and out increasingly quickly. but you want this to be good for him, too, so you obey; you're awarded with a "good girl, doing so fucking well for me" for your efforts, followed by a "can i add another?", to which you eagerly agree.

once matty's established a toe-curlingly good rhythm and pace with his fingers, he latches his lips onto your neck again. you watch him in the mirror, through eyes half-lidded with pleasure, as he sucks an accompanying bruise next to the existing one, forming a little heart - even hazy with a slowly-building orgasm in the base of your spine, you smile at the action. being lovey-dovey and sappy even while he's literally clawing his cum out of your cunt? it's so characteristically matty that it makes your heart melt.

it reforms into a flutter mere seconds later, though, when your boyfriend angles his hand in such a way that his fingers hit your g-spot, while his wrist presses lightly on your still-sensitive clit. you cry out at the sensation, jerking forward in ecstasy, while matty coos and wraps his free arm around your waist to keep you close. "oh, there she is! god, you're so good for me, princess. want me to make you cum now?"

you're nodding frantically before he can even finish speaking. "please, please, make me cum," you whimper, meeting matty's lust-filled eyes in the mirror. "been so good for you, wanna cum."

"alright."

it's incomprehensible to you how he does it, but matty speeds up his hand movements even more, cooing into your ear and calling you his "good fucking girl, perfect girl" as he does. you silently pray to any and all deities that might exist in gratitude for whoever told him to pick up a guitar and develop wrist strength back in the day, before a familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach wipes your mind clean of any coherent thought. "matty, baby, m'gonna cum."

"hold it."

no fucking way. your eyes widen in horror. "what?!"

matty giggles - not maliciously, but not exactly nicely, either. "just for a second longer, princess, just so you can enjoy how good my cum feels inside you before i fuck it all out. hold it for daddy, ok?"

he's pulled the d word card. the fucking d word card.

you can't flake on him now, so you take a deep breath and continue looking at your boyfriend's reflection. "alright then."

a kiss to your temple. "good girl."

despite your best intentions to delay your orgasm, matty has no such qualms; you swear his fingering gets even faster, his dirty talk gets moanier, and the kisses he's harassing your neck with are the sexiest yet. regardless on whether that's actually true or not (although your boyfriend's slight sadistic streak makes you believe in the former), the pressure in your stomach continues to grow. you don't know if you have it in you at all to stop it.

luckily, though, the actual end goal of this little sexperiment is in sight, literally - looking down at matty's fingers thrusting into you, you notice his cum from earlier beginning to seep out around them. it's an obscenely erotic image, eliciting a synchronised moan from you and matty. he grins, panting, into your shoulder. "fuck, princess, look at you all full of me. mine, all mine, my perfect girl, the love of my life."

the combination of the sight and matty's praise is a heady one, intoxicating you, making your eyes roll back into your skull and your already aching legs quiver. teeth chattering with an impending orgasm, you manage a whimpered request. "daddy, please, please can i cum now?"

"oh, princess," matty pulls you in for a quick kiss, marvelling at the way your eyes flutter when he pulls away. "go on, cum for me, good girl."

as soon as the words leave his mouth, the elastic band of building pressure in your stomach snaps. screaming, you cling to matty's arms as he moans and works you through the orgasm, in spite of you clenching around his fingers so tightly he can barely move. he pulls them out before the aftershocks kick in, wrapping both arms around you and verbally coaxing you through your high between kisses to your face and neck and shoulders and head.

once you've stopped shaking quite so much, you snuggle into matty while the two of you catch your breath, watching streams of white liquid pour out of you. before matty has the chance, you cup your hand just below your hole to catch most of it and bring it to your mouth - he groans out a "you're fucking perfect" as you do, followed by a "beautiful, filthy girl" as you smile at him with his cum all over your lips. matty pulls you in for another kiss; ironically, this one is gentle and loving and sweet, until matty breaks it. "god, we really do taste fucking amazing. you're fucking amazing. i love you, my girl, you did so well for me."

"i love you, too. i can't believe we just did that," you say, shifting as best you can to hug your boyfriend. "can we do it again?"

"love the enthusiasm, but we need a bath first, sweetheart, i think."

"true."