#mattie words

[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.”

[dirtbagdefender]

discrepancies in the teen wolf movie (2/?) the movie vs 1.04 & 1.12

[bedforddanes75]

hello how have i never seen this before i need to bite him

[annaliisa8]

Special message to Käärijä fan community

Source: mattimaxim in instagram

[headcarsbendlng]

happy pride month to this picture in specific

[3terna15unshin3]

Thinking

[didyoulookforme]

[wreckedandpolemic]

to my knees you do promote me - matty healy

prompt: queen of hearts

(mdni) day 6 and my final entry into valentine75! these were soo fun thank u vee @abiiors

warnings: sub!matty, oral (f and m receiving), unprotected sex

Your leather pants cling to you fluidly, like a second skin, matching gloves stretching up to your elbows. You pose dramatically, raking a hand through your hair and pressing your tongue against the inside of your cheek, savouring the way Matty’s gaze burns against your skin. He doesn’t know where to look, eyes darting wildly from the laces that cross over a strip of bare outer thigh; to your bare stomach, silver jewellery adorning your belly; to your tits, cradled in a black lace bralette with straps crossing your décolletage in a way that’s reminiscent of a harness.

“You like it?” you ask, smirking as he swallows thickly.

A charged, silent moment passes. “You can’t wear that,” he finally gets out, voice low and gravelly.

You take a deliberate step towards him, boots clacking on the wood floor, lips stretching in a predatory grin when he flinches. “Why not?” you pout, “Don’t I look hot?”

Matty’s answer comes embarrassingly quickly. “God, yes,” he groans, eyes lidded as his gaze sends heat flushing under your skin. “You can’t wear that, ‘cos I won’t be able to keep my hands off you.”

Laughing to yourself, you close the distance between you and sling your arms around his neck. Matty stiffens, a trembling breath ghosting over your lips. “Can’t control yourself, hm? Am I driving you crazy, baby?”

“Mhmm,” he murmurs. You can see him slipping, eyes glazing over, wide and needy. 

You grin, sly and teasing, and reach down to palm his cock through his jeans. He whines softly, already melting in your hands, pliant and sugary-sweet under your touch. “Oh, baby,” you murmur, tone drenched in faux concern. “You need it, huh?” High spots of colour paint Matty’s cheeks and his eyes fall to the ground as he nods. “Words, baby,” you instruct.

“Want you,” he says, the confession coming out quiet and penitent. You press a kiss against the corner of his mouth in reward, his lips twitching in a pout as a silent plea for more. “Please,” he adds, anticipating the words balanced on the tip of your tongue.

Matty’s hips jerk involuntarily against your hand as you slip your hand into his boxers and squeeze lightly. “Such a good boy,” you coo, admiring him as your words pull him deeper into that soft, malleable state. Getting him like this is rare, and you usually don’t get a sign before it comes on; Matty has a tendency of bottling up his stress until the glass shatters under the pressure and he comes to you pleading to lose control. “How do you want me?” you ask, still stroking him gently. Matty shudders, cock drooling into your fist.

It’s not always like this, all whispered praise and reverent quiet — sometimes, Matty needs some coaxing to let go, pushing back against you defiantly until you can bend him enough to fall. “Want your mouth. Please.” He’s quiet but sure, and you smile indulgently at him.

He inhales sharply as you drop to your knees in front of him, nuzzling your cheek against his clothed cock. A whine falls from his lips, so pathetic that you almost feel guilty about the scant tease. You free his cock, kissing the flushed head, crooning praise as he fights to hold still. “My pretty boy,” you murmur, watching through your lashes as a flush spreads over his cheeks and he smiles shyly. “Such a pretty dick, too,” you add, stroking over him and relishing the way he moans and shivers under your touch.

You run your tongue along the length of Matty’s cock, the salt of him intoxicating in your mouth. Your name falls from his lips, rapturous, as you swallow him whole. His head lolls back, his moans a litany that has heat buzzing under your skin. There’s power in this, in reducing him to a needy, obedient mess; him who bends you over and fucks you until you’re crying, who fists a hand in your hair and whispers sweet cruelties in your ear, who tells you shut up and take it like a good girl.

Desire throbs sickly in your gut. You press a hand between your legs and grind down against it, moaning around Matty’s cock as it bumps the back of your throat. Pulling off, you lap at his tip, thin tendrils of pleasure curling up your spine as your hips roll against your hand. You go to take him in your mouth again but he stills you with a gentle hand.

With a question in your eyes, you look up at him. “Wanna get you off,” he says, eyes wide and glossy with desire.

You smile up at him, his face open and earnest as you stand to face him. You press your lips to his, swallowing his whine as he tastes himself on your tongue. His kiss is shy as he accepts whatever you give, controlled and ascetic. “Such a sweet boy.” You walk him to the bed, pulling him down on top of you without breaking the kiss.

Inhaling greedy lungfuls of his quiet moans and shuddering breaths, your hands slide to the laces of your pants and you start to untie them. Matty’s hands tremble as they come to cover yours, the knots coming loose under his touch in a way your body recognises. His eyes don’t leave yours as he makes his way down your body, his gaze sparking heat under your skin that drips down your spine and pools between your legs. You tangle a hand in his curls as he tugs your pants down just enough to fit himself between your thighs, his pained whine syrupy-sweet against your skin when you tug at them just slightly.

White spots dance across your vision as Matty’s lips connect with your skin, his tongue insistent and feverish over your clit. You moan softly, pleasure rolling over you in gentle waves; he takes the sound as an encouragement, redoubling his efforts with fervour. He’s losing himself in you, eyes fluttering shut as his tongue roves over your cunt, teasing your clit and then dipping inside you, back to your clit before you even feel the loss.

“Good boy,” you say, cunt clenching around Matty’s tongue as he fucks it into you in a gorgeous, deliriating rhythm. The praise has him reeling, his hips grinding down against the bed as he whimpers into your cunt. “I love you like this,” you murmur sweetly. “Don’t care about getting off, do you? Just wanna let me use you, hm? Making me feel so good, Matty. So fucking good,” you promise, carding your hands through his hair as he brings a hand up to you with your clit, a burst of pleasure buzzing up your spine when he rubs a skilled circle over your sensitive nerves.

“Wanna make you cum,” he whines, pleading, his lips and chin glistening with your arousal. The calloused pad of his finger brushes divinely against your clit, the scrape sending a thick pulse of heat winding around your organs. Your responding moan has Matty burying his tongue in your cunt, devouring you with a ferocity that sends ecstasy ricocheting through your body, your hands fisting in the sheets as you moan and writhe uncontrollably.

His hips grind down against the sheets brainlessly, his body chasing his pleasure while his mind is singularly focused on yours. Desire ramps up under your skin, setting you aflame. Blood pounds in your ears, your world tunnelling down to where Matty’s hands grip your thighs, where his fingers circle over your clit, where his tongue thrusts in and out of you in an earth-shattering rhythm. His nails bite into your tender, sweat-slick skin, the faint edge of pain tracing lovingly around the curves of your arousal.

“God Matty, fuck,” you whine. “Feels so fucking good. God, I love your fucking tongue. My good boy.” He doesn’t let up, practically dragging your hips down to fuck his tongue impossibly deeper into you, until your body can’t take it anymore. Your hands fist in his hair as your body catches alight, screaming his name as you soak his lips and chin. Euphoria pumps in your veins, your heart working in overdrive as it seeps into your organs. All the air leaves your lungs, pleasure choking you out, Matty’s tongue still working over your clit as your cunt clenches around nothing.

You come back to your senses and Matty’s eyes meet yours, pure adoration passing between you. Need is written openly on his face, underlined by his flushed, drooling cock hanging hard and heavy where he kneels between your legs. “Can— can I cum? Please?” he murmurs, hands hovering nervously over his stomach, his body a hard line of tension that hangs on your strings.

Slowly, you move around the bed, stripping out of what remains of your clothes and helping Matty out of his. You climb over him, resting your hands on his shoulders and pushing gently.  “Lie back, baby. Let me take care of you, yeah?”

He nods obediently, letting himself fall against the pillows, his eyes glued to your slick, messy cunt as you lower yourself onto him. His name falls from your lips in a low moan, the stretch in your cunt familiarly divine, burning pleasure pulling at all of your limbs at once. “You feel so good,” Matty whimpers, hips bucking and striking that perfect spot inside you that sends ecstasy careening through your bloodstream. “I love it when you fuck me like this. So fucking pretty,” he moans.

You drive your hips down at a punishing pace, eyes rolling back in your head as your moans mingle with his in the air between you, thick with molten desire. Bracing your hands against Matty’s chest, you lean down to kiss him, swallowing his gasps as his hips meet yours, heat kissing up your spine. “Doing so good, baby,” you murmur, losing yourself in his eyes, so wide they look black, so liquid you could drown in them. “My good boy,” you promise, sitting up and clenching your cunt around him, his quiet whimper sweetly pathetic in your ears as you roll your hips.

Nails biting into your thighs, Matty’s breathing turns sharp, unsteady. His hips crash wildly against yours, delicious arrhythmia pounding between your bodies. Your head tips back and your mouth falls open in a gasp, sticky heat pooling low in your belly. “‘M so close,” Matty whimpers, eyes falling closed as he writhes powerlessly under you. “‘M gonna cum, can I cum, please, please, please.” He draws the words out, stretching them into a sweet, broken moan that squeezes around your heart before kicking fiercely in your cunt.

“Hang on for me, just for a minute, okay, baby?” His eyes go wide, fearful, and you press a finger to his lips to silence his protests. Pleasure arcs up your spine, sharp bursts following every movement of your hips. Gazing down at him, you catalogue every inch of his face, scrunching in effort of holding back. “Good boy,” you murmur, the vast chasm of ecstasy yawning beneath you threatening to swallow you whole. “You wanna cum?” Matty nods, his whole body trembling feverishly. “Then cum for me, baby.”

The moan he gives is enough to tip you over the edge, plummeting into ecstasy so deep you lose yourself in it, stomach twisting and head coming unglued from your body. Matty’s cock pulses gloriously inside you, pumping you full as your cunt clenches around him, euphoria flooding your limbs. You slump forward, pulling Matty with you as you roll onto your side and slinging a leg over his waist. “Thank you,” he mumbles into your neck, pressing soft kisses to the skin there.

You run your fingers through his curls gently, curling close and basking in the warmth of his body all around and inside you. “Such a good boy,” you murmur fondly, eyes slipping closed as you press a kiss to the top of his head. “My good boy.”

[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.”

[bedforddanes75]

cant stop thinking about this because like?? why does ross look SO disgusted??

[ughgoaway]

please, take my hand.

Content warnings: swearing, body insecurity, slut shaming, kinda shaming of sex workers (sex work is real work y’all), calling Matty short (so real), Gilmore Girl reference (it is where I got my nickname from after all), overuse of commas, possibly bad writing and mentions of smut but nothing really. word count- 3.7k ish

a/n: ahhhhhhh here it is!!! anon, I hope you like it and that I did your request justice, If I didn't, please feel free to send it to other writers so they can!! but this was the most I've written in AGES, so even if you don't like it, thank you for helping me actually write! the scenes in Italic are flashbacks, and im really hoping this plot isn't too confusing?? also, I struggled so hard for a title for this... why are titles so hard??? if you hate it or have a better suggestion, I am OPEN. and finally, as usual, I do, in fact kinda hate this... here it is anyway y'all!!!

You stare at the reflection in front of you, the sparkles of your dress glimmer in the low light as you analyse your body. Something you know you shouldn't do, yet you do anyway. The cups of the dress accentuate your chest just the way it's meant to, and yet you don't think it looks right. The nude fabric below the glitter makes you look as if you were glowing from within, but to you, you felt like a knockoff Edward Cullen. The thin straps trail over your shoulders and cross over in the back. Most girls would feel beautiful and seductive, but all you could focus on was if your tan was even.

Behind you, your boyfriend of 6 months slides up and places his hands on your waist. “This is it,” you think, who else better to build your self-esteem than the man who should love you unconditionally, who should worship the ground you walk on and take any opportunity to gush over his beautiful girlfriend. It seems Cole just wasn't that type of boyfriend.

“Isn't this a bit much… I mean, it's a party at George’s for Charli's new album, you're not working the street corner outside. I don't need everyone to know what you look like when I fuck you.”

Oh.

You physically feel yourself deflate, your hands reach and cross over your stomach before sliding up to your chest. You look up at his face in the mirror. A sick smile graces his features as he laughs at his comment. 

Your fingers shake as you grip your shoulders, Cole grips one of your hands and slips his hand below your chin, forcing your face up to look at his in the mirror.

“You can wear it this once, baby, but after that, it needs to go - okay?” he says as if he's doing you a favour, and for some reason, you feel like he is. You nod and give him a small reassuring smile in the mirror that he returns before turning and leaving the room.

You stay standing, staring, analysing until Cole calls your name and you stumble to the door and out.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The bass rattled the door as you stood outside, the bottle of wine in your hand feeling far too formal once you swung it open and looked out on the sea at the half-drunk people.

A voice you recognised finally rang out from the crowd in front of you, "Y/n! Cole! Hi, come in" George ushered you in with a wave of his hand.

You smiled and went to hug George only for Cole's grip to tighten on your waist, you glance back at your boyfriend and scrunch your face in confusion at his actions. George looks at the pair of you questioningly but decides not to push it just smiling and graciously accepting the wine you hand to him. 

Charli soon appeared behind George and greeted you. She practically tore you out of Cole's grip and gave you a bone-crushing hug. Cole dragged you back and grabbed your hand as soon as you were back in reach, seemingly staking his claim.

Before long, Charli was dragging George off with a sly smile on her face, “Drinks are in the kitchen, Help yourselves!” George shouted as he was being pulled away by his doting girlfriend. 

You walk through the party staring around at the room full of people, Cole's hand is holding yours, and it feels as if your skin is burning. You are pretty sure you see Jack Antonoff somewhere in the crowd, but before you can look too closely, you hear a voice you know all too well travel from the kitchen.

“Well if it isn't the life of the party finally arriving,” Matty began, shamelessly staring you up and down, “y/n! My darling, how are you!” he said, very clearly ignoring the man currently gripping your hard so hard you're sure there will be finger-shaped bruises tomorrow.

You managed to wrench your hand away from Cole and stroll up to Matty, he wolf whistles as you walk across the kitchen to him and you feel your cheeks heat up at his shameless flirting. You try not to read too much into it, knowing what he's like.

Having been friends with Matty for the better part of a decade means you know what he's like, always ready to chat up anyone as soon as he gets a few drinks in him. Hell, you're pretty sure you've seen him trying to pull Ross on a few occasions when he'd had too many tequila shots.

“Wow darling, you have truly outdone yourself this time,” Matty said, his jaw practically on the ground. He stuck his hand out towards you indicating for you to grab it. You tentatively grip his hand only to be spun around on the spot by the curly-headed man. A light giggle escaped your lips and Matty felt his heart constrict on the spot.

Considering he was hopelessly and irrevocably in love with you, that was to be expected.

“This might be the best you've ever looked sweetheart, going to have men throwing themselves at you all night. Maybe a few girls too” Matty said, throwing you a wink with a teasing click of his tongue.

He actually wanted nothing less than to see men draping themselves over you but he couldn't help but compliment you whenever he got the chance, he always saw it as a way to confess his love without having to say those words.

Cole strolled over and pulled your hand out of Matty's grip, if you were honest you had forgotten you were holding it. It was then Matty realised there was indeed one thing worse than seeing men fawn over you, it was seeing your idiot boyfriend act like he owned you all night.

“Alright, Matty?” greeted Cole, clenching his teeth and nodding his head at the shorter man. The anger bubbling beneath the surface was clear to you and Matty, the latter couldn't help but get one last jab in at Cole.

“Hi, Cole.” Matty said dryly, “You are one lucky bastard mate, what other girl would dress this beautifully for a party at a friend's house” he finished his statement by throwing a smirk in your direction. 

You heard Cole mutter under his breath and tensed, knowing what was coming. Suddenly a gush of vitriol came spewing out your boyfriend's mouth directed at Matty. 

“Listen here you scrawny little shit-” began Cole leaning in and towering over the man below him who despite what was expected of him, stood his ground and started up at Cole with an unbothered look on his face. 

You quickly got between the two men, placing your hand on Cole's chest and pushing away. You could feel his rapidly beating heart beneath your palm, it scared you how familiar this situation was for you. Having pushed Cole away from far too many fights in your short relationship.

“Cole just leave it, Matty is my friend. Please don't be an asshole,” you say desperately staring up at the man in front of you, hoping your eye contact would calm him down.

“An asshole?” scoffed Cole condescendingly, “fuck you y/n, I can't deal with this prick any more. I'm leaving” Cole finished his sentence by storming off out the front door, slamming it behind him. Luckily the booming music meant no one saw his childish outburst.

Tears sprung to your eyes as you stared in the direction he left. Why the fuck did he act like this, you remember falling for him. He was the perfect man, with flowers and gifts all the time. He planned dates and surprised you all the time.

Yet as the months dragged on he became a man you didn't recognise. Slowly he became controlling, it started with small things, something as simple as what tea brand you buy but soon it changed into everything. What you wore, who you spoke to, when you went out. 

Your friends were drifting apart from you, but Cole assured you it was a good thing. They weren't worth your time anyway. When this invite came through, you almost immediately denied it, assuming Cole would never let you go, but to your shock, he agreed. What a good choice that seemed now.

You ran after your boyfriend, quickly followed by Matty close behind. You caught Cole’s shoulder as he walked over the grass outside George’s house. You briefly noticed how nice the flowers were, making a mental note to compliment them when you returned to the party.

Matty stood at the door watching you plead and beg your boyfriend to stay. Catching bits and pieces from where he stood, he began to walk closer when he saw Cole wrench his arm out of your grip for the third time, worried he was about to hurt you. 

“Please Cole it's just Matty being Matty. If you knew him like I do, you would know it means nothing. Please” you cried and begged the man in front of you, watching his nostrils flare and the vein in his forehead grow with each passing moment. 

“Oh fuck off y/n,” he spat angrily at you, “if you can't see that he's madly in fucking love with you then you're even more stupid than I thought.” he finished with a glare behind you and stormed off and this time you didn't follow. You stood in shock.

The cold air seemed to catch up to you then, the heat of the moment had been keeping you warm. The breeze blew through you as you curled in on yourself, tears streaming down your cheeks. A hand from behind reached forward and gripped your shoulder. You shrugged it off and turned around to see who it was, despite knowing exactly who you'd see.

“Dont touch me, Matty,” you say staring at him with a resentful tone to your voice, “Why do you do that. Why do you flirt with me when he's there. You know he gets jealous” you shout at the curly-headed man who scoffs and shakes his head at your comments.

“He gets jealous?” Matty shouts back incredulously, “he's a fucking dick y/n! All he does is put you down and walk around acting like he owns you! Why are you even with that asshole?” he finishes with a shout, his chest heaves with effort.

“It's not like I have many options is it Matty!?” you shout back, staring questioningly at the man a few feet in front of you. Matty stares back at you with a disbelieving look on his face, “Oh, don't look at me like that,” you say with a wave of your hand, “Am I just too unlovable, is that it?! Am I just so inherently unlovable that I'm stuck with men like that my whole life?!” you scream at him, black tears drip off your chin onto the ground below you as you drop your head.

“I love you!" he shouts back with wet eyes and a heavy chest.

Your head shot back up at his words, "No you don't. Stop. don't say that, Matty, it's not funny, " you whisper back at him, staring blankly.

“I do, please I do,” he says walking towards you. You take a step back as he approaches. Not believing what is happening. 

“Please just- stop okay” Matty pleads with you, you stand still as he walks closer, and soon he is in front of you staring down into your eyes.

He briefly admires your eyelashes, heavy with tears. And your glossy eyes staring up at him. 

“Please let me just speak okay, let me explain how serious I am. Please.” he pleads with you, your small nod makes him continue.

He then breaks down and explains when he realised he was in love, and how it fucked with his mind endlessly.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

matty can still distinctly remember when he first realised he loved you. It wasn't during some big dramatic moment, there was no celebration, cake, or streamers. just you.

It was when you all went into the countryside for Adam's birthday, you rented a cottage for you all to stay in. All Adam wanted to do for his big day was get pissed and make music in this beautiful house and you were all more than happy to oblige.

It was midday when Matty woke up draped over a sofa still in his clothes from the night before. He hissed as the light hit his eyes, not entirely sure why the world would punish him at that moment.

He looked around and saw everyone in a similar situation to him. Poor George was cramped in a small armchair, Matty having taken the only place the giant could've slept comfortably. 

The birthday boy himself was sprawled on the floor, wrapped in the rug with Carly lying on his chest. Ross and Waughy were lying in a similar pose on the other side of the coffee table, but with a very small Jamie squished between the two of them.

Matty couldn't help but notice the lack of one person, always seeming to notice when you weren't in a room. He was always drawn to you, and at that point, he didn't quite know why.

Before he could sit on that thought too long everyone else began to stir, a cacophony of groans and grumbles soon came out of the severely hungover group.

"Am I dead? " croaked out Adam, already hacking up a lung at having spoken 3 words earning him a whine and a slap from his sleeping wife.

"No mate," Matty began, "just hungover in our 30's. Does anyone want a cuppa?" he asked, knowing the answer would be a resounding yes.

He stumbled into the kitchen with a mental order for 4 cups of tea, 2 coffees and one "go fuck yourself" for George. He really was a grump when hungover.

Once again he hissed at the light once he entered the kitchen and began looking for the window that was causing the awful beam.

But he stopped in his tracks once he saw you, you had obviously snuck away at some point this morning without waking anyone else.

You sat in the small nook below the window, a pink blanket was tossed over your bare legs as you stared out and the garden, wishing you could live here forever.

You didn't hear Matty come into the kitchen, so you stayed blissfully unaware of the man currently staring at you in a state of shock.

The glow of the sun reflected on your face, illuminating your features. Matty stared as the sunlight danced across your cheeks. He could see your eyes skittering over the garden, no doubt scouting out a place to sit and read later. He followed the flutter of your eyelashes down to your cheeks, somehow perfectly pink and full despite a night of drinking. If Matty hadn't seen you drink 4 shots last night, he would have never believed you could've had a single drop of alcohol. 

Matty thought to himself at that moment, "Oh shit. I'm in love with her," when he saw you there.

He's never felt more cliche, but it was as if lightning had stuck him where he stood. But once he knew, he realised it had never been hidden. Every stolen touch, every lingering glance was a confession of love.

Matty yearned for you. Your melodic laugh that you insisted was a cackle, your bashful smile as you try not to preen over someone's compliments (usually his), the red that decorates your cheeks every time you drink a little bit too much wine. He craved it all.

Every part of him was made for loving you. It was the easiest thing he's ever had to do.

The realisation almost bowled him over, he gripped the corner of the kitchen counter to ground himself. He stared in awe, just watching you breathe as you stared out the window.

Soon, a wave of nausea reminded him of his purpose, and he busied himself making the myriad of teas he had promised everyone. Even managing to speak up to offer you one, but that realisation never left him.

As Matty recounted that story he saw your eyes get misty with tears, the words were flowing out of him and he couldn't stop before telling you another time he felt sick with his love for you.

He told you about the holiday in France you all took, 3 months after he realised he was ridiculously in love with you. But it was also 2 months into your relationship with Cole, and Matty had just begun to stitch himself back together.

The stitches were wonky and misplaced, he bled beneath them whenever he saw you together. But he was trying. He continued to try and fix his weeping wound, despite deep down knowing the only real fix was not seeing you, but how could he not?

He watched the waves crash over your form in the ocean, you were wildly laughing as you almost tumbled over from the force. The straps of your swimsuit nearly become untied from the crash of the waves.

When you had strolled out earlier in your suit, Matty felt his heart skitter, a simple black suit to most, but to Matty, it made his palms sweaty and his stomach leap.

The thin straps crossed over your shoulders and met behind your neck. A neck matty though would look so beautiful marked up, by him especially. The waist of the suit hugged you perfectly, making Matty dizzy at the sight of your curves. It sat low in the centre of your chest, and your glowing skin teased him mercilessly.

He felt his hands twitch at his sides when Cole ran over to you, bowling you over and pulling you into the salty waves behind you. 

He thought, if it were him with you he would have slid up behind you, wrapped his hands around your waist and kissed your neck. Taking the brute force of the waves himself and letting you stand without worry of falling over.

He'd brush your sandy hair to one side and bury his face in the other. He'd breathe you in, the jasmine perfume you always wore would override his senses and he'd bury his nose deeper. He'd smile bashfully at your giggles and teasing, leaving small pecks that only caused you to laugh more.

But he wasn't doing any of that.

He was sitting on a towel watching you fight in the waves with the man who had everything he wanted but had no idea. He decided then and there a small bit of flirting wouldn't hurt anyone.

Well, it would hurt him, but matty chose to push that down and bottle it up. Knowing it would rip open his wound but he would rather slowly bleed to death with you than heal without you near him.

As Matty finished that story he saw you itching to say something, he quickly finished what he needed to say and prepared for the inevitable rejection. 

"So I started just… flirting. nothing too much, just enough to get your cheeks to colour and Coles fists to clench. Just enough to brighten you up again. I missed you being bright sweetheart."

Matty tensed as he finished as if preparing for you to scream at him.

You stared blankly at the man in front of you, his months of pining were lost on you. 

Of course, you noticed the flirting, everyone noticed the flirting. It was Matty, you're sure he'd have chemistry with a wooden broom if he tried. You'd more than noticed it, it had quickly become a guilty pleasure of yours to relive what he said to you.

So guilty that perhaps once or twice your hand slid down your body at the thought of Matty whispering those same comments in your ear. But that was normal, you assured yourself.

People in relationships thought about another man's curls tickling your face as he kissed your pulse point. Everyone thought of another man's voice whispering filthy comments into your ears. Obviously, everyone thought about the feeling of those same curls between their legs, and how good it would feel to grip and pull at them. To grind against his pretty face.

You shook those thoughts out of your head and looked at Matty again, you saw the fear and desperation on his face. You took a small step forward and he stepped back, copying your actions from before.

“What are you doing,” he said suspiciously, panting from pouring his heart out so quickly.

“Would you just stay still you idiot?” you say, giving him a small smile. He tilted his head questioningly but followed your request, your next step forward brought you chest to chest with him.

Before you could think too hard, you leaned in and pressed your lips together. So gentle it almost wasn't a touch, but it was and it was real. Matty couldn't believe it was fucking real.

Any chance of catching your breath was lost as Matty shot forward catching you in a passionate kiss that almost had you falling backwards if it wasn't for him desperately grabbing at you.

Your hands shot to his hair, scratching the nape of his neck with your nails as you pulled at the unkempt curls that sat there. A groan bubbles out from deep within Matty's chest and you slip your tongue into his mouth as it does, only causing another groan to leave him and his grip to tighten. 

You briefly see a flash of the door opening behind Matty but pay it no mind, too wrapped up in the man in front of you.

Charli and George stood with their heads out the door, peeking out and staring at the pair of you and giggling like schoolchildren. Their laughter gets the better of you and soon you break too, laughing at their infectious and poorly suppressed snickers.

Matty turned around and scolded the pair for staring, “Oi! fuck off you two! Ruining a proper romantic moment here!” the smile on his face made it clear any harness in his voice was nothing but a ruse. 

You giggle and press your face into Matty's neck, breathing him in unabashedly and revelling in the scent of his cologne mixed with cigarettes.

He turns back to you and the pair of you stare into the eyes of the other, watching the love dance over each other's faces.

[wrestletotheground]

meet cute with matty at a bar that definitely doesn't end with him railing you over the bathroom sink in said bar 🥰

- minors dni -

you knew you were in for it that night the minute you made eye contact with him across the bar. he looked you up and down, drinking in your body as he licked his lips, already knowing he was going to get what he wanted.

he walked over to you, and you had barely been talking 5 minutes before you were excusing yourself from your friend group to drag him by the hand to the unisex bathrooms.

he walked closely behind you to the last door, slamming it behind him and fiddling with the lock with shaky hands, wishing they were on you already.

he pushed you against the wall, smirking and leaning into your ear. 'fucking slut, bet you're dripping for me already love,' he whispered. you couldn't reply, too worked up to form a proper sentence. instead you just moaned softly, clenching your thighs together to relieve the throbbing ache that kicked in whenever you locked eyes with him. the sight of you looking up at him innocently, too turned on to speak, made him fucking Feral.

he slipped his finger under the strap of your corset top, slipping it off your shoulder, barely breaking eye contact. he did the same with the other side before you reached behind you and took it off yourself, throwing it on the ground and earning a soft groan from the taller man. he brought his hands down to your tits, feeling the soft skin beneath his fingertips and squeezing lightly.

'fucking gorgeous,' he muttered, attacking your lips with his. his tongue found his way to yours easily, mouths fitting together like jigsaw pieces, all the while he was losing his mind feeling up your chest and pinching your nipples between calloused fingers.

'please, need you to fuck me,' you mumbled, hands fumbling around for his belt buckle. he helped you, letting his trousers fall to his ankles as you placed your hand over his hard cock through the thin fabric of his boxers. he let out a breathy moan, hips jolting up towards you. you undid the buttons and zips holding your jeans up, letting them fall and kicking them off to join your flimsy top on the tiled floor.

he cupped your soaked cunt through your underwear, groaning when he felt the wetness on his fingers. 'jesus, I barely know you and I have you like this already.' you could tell his ego was through the roof but at that point it went straight over your head, all you could think of is how he was about to destroy you. 'mm, you just have that effect', you said, leaning into his touch.

he pulled away and pushed your hair behind your ear, making you fall weakly against the wall. 'bend over the sink for me, pet.' you barely thought about it before rushing to lean over it, cold porcelain digging into your hips as he pushed up behind you. locking eyes with him in the mirror made you shudder with want.

he pulled his boxers down, freeing his throbbing cock, and stroked up and down a few times, biting his lip and staring at you the whole time. 'please..' you whispered. he hooked two fingers under the waistband of your underwear and pulled them down quickly. he stood back for a second to see your glistening cunt, pulsing in anticipation for him. you heard him mutter something under his breath, before being knocked out of your head by his fingers trailing down your core.

you whined as he started rubbing circles on your clit with just the right amount of pressure to have you gasping for more. 'you like that? you gonna be my little fucktoy for tonight hm?' 'yes- fuck, please, I'll be good for you,' you replied, gripping the sink and pushing back into him. 'good.' he moved his hand to your ass, the other lining himself up to you. without warning, he shoved into you, both of you throwing your heads back in ecstasy. he stilled for a moment, his hands wandering over your back and sides reassuringly, letting you adjust to the feeling. 'more, please move,' you whimpered, walls clenching around him. he instantly obliged, bottoming out, before starting to fuck into you at a hypnotising pace that had you dizzy. all the while he watched your face in the mirror, noticing every action that made you cry out.

it wasn't long before his hands were grabbing your tits desperately, his forehead buried in your hair as you leaned up into his chest. 'ugh, good girl, doing so good for me, fuckkk', he groaned. your hips were crashing into the sink audibly with every thrust, surely leaving bruises, but the pain just added to the fluttery feeling that was quickly building in your stomach.

your walls clenched around him as he stepped closer to you, allowing him to reach deeper inside. 'I'm not gonna last much longer if you keep that up darling-mmff- fuck,' his voice was getting more gruff and intense, his grip tightening all around you. his hand quickly dipped down to your core, fingers working diligently, desperate to make you cum, and it fucking worked.

'matty, ngh, don't stop, fuck, fuck fuck please I'm-,' your orgasm crashed over you suddenly, muscles tightening as he kept going, muttering filthy words of praise into your ear as you caught your breath.

he pushed into you one last time with a deep groan, gripping onto you so hard you felt like he was the only thing anchoring you to reality, your head spinning. his warmth spilled inside you as he whimpered into your neck, watching how you reacted to the obscene feeling of him painting your insides.

'fucking hell', he mumbled, breathing heavily into you as he pulled out slowly, wincing at the feeling. he held you there for a moment while you caught your breath, making sure you were okay. you looked down at yourself in the mirror, admiring the fresh blooms of red that were appearing on either side below your waist, just like you thought. they stayed for weeks, little souvenirs of the best night out you'd had in a while.

~

[partoftheairforce]

two of the hottest people ever 💋

[madebysimblr]

Meanwhile.

-

[both Maia and Sorella snoring]

[Otis gently knocks on the window]

Sorella: [Hmm??]

Otis: Hey, sorry to bother, but I wanted to see how you were doing.

Sorella: Oh th-[yawns]-at's so sweet of you. I'm.... I don't know. Numb a little.

Otis: How's she doing?

Sorella: Better than a few days ago... but still bad. She can't keep any food down. She's dehydrated even with the IV she's had going for the last few days. And then a kidney infection on top of it all. [voice breaks] It's rough.

Otis: I'm so sorry, Els.

Sorella: [sniffles] Thanks. I'm trying to stay positive, but it's hard.

Otis: It is. But if it helps I can be positive for you.

Sorella: [dry chuckle] It might.

[Alex approaches with a coffee]

Sorella: Oh how did you know that's what I needed.

Alex: Lucky guess. Would have grabbed more if I knew there were visitors?

Sorella: Oh right. Alex, this is Otis, we went to high school together. He- well did you just stop by to check on me? Or are you here for something serious too?

Otis: Heya. And nah, not here for anything serious. Just congratulating Matty. Figured I'd stop by.

Sorella: Congratulating Matty?

Otis: Yeah, he and Gemma had another kid. Another girl.

Sorella: [snorts] Dear god. They're still together?

Otis: ... Uh yup.

Sorella: Huh. Well I guess good for them. Oh, she's awake. Sorry, if you'll excuse me.

[wreckedandpolemic]

regret me matty spanking but the other way around bc it needs to exist <3

YOU understand the vision my friend!!! him getting you all worked up, slutting it up on stage and going so far as to make out with a fan, glancing over at you with a wicked smirk as he climbs back onto the stage. you pull him away the second the show is over, haul him straight back to your hotel and all but kick him onto the bed. why are you always such a whore? you snap, swatting matty’s hands away when he tries to pull your shirt off. is it ‘cause you want me to punish you?

yeah, he grins dopily up at you, rocking his hips against air. you know i love it when you hurt me. you grip his jaw, leaning down to spit in his mouth. he swallows greedily, gasping for more as your fingers come down to lift the hem of his shirt and gently trace over his tattoos. hands and knees for me, baby, you say, uncharacteristically gentle. obediently, he kneels on the bed, letting you push his skirt up and pull his boxers down.

his cock hangs heavy and drooling between his legs, twitching in anticipation as you slowly stroke the curve of his ass. you make him sweat, make him wait, brushing featherlight touches over his hips and ass. just when he stops expecting it, you strike him, a choked gasp falling from his lips. matty moans outright at the second slap, and you laugh cruelly. such a slut, gettin’ off on being spanked on all fours like a cheap whore. does it feel good, baby?

so fucking good, mommy. that fucking word. he knows it’ll get him anything he wants. you dig your nails into his hip, smack the side of his ass, your cunt clenching as he whines into the sheets. mommy’s little bitch, right? you slap him again. m’yours, all yours, y’can do whatever you want with me. god, m’so fucking hard, baby, please.

you hit matty once more for good measure, then nudge him until he flips over. he’s so hard it must ache, his entire body flushed red and twitching against the sheets. he whines your name, pleading and pathetic. ah-ah-ah, you tease, grinning wickedly. who do you think you’re talking to?

m’sorry, mommy, he says immediately, heat flooding between your thighs. good boy. tell mommy what you want, okay?

[bigsleeps]

“what i’m asking on this record in the context of love is, can you find true love, versus all of this irony, all of this postmodernism, all of this… i don’t want to say neoliberalism but versus the internet, versus technology? can we find true love in a way that we were culturally in pursuit of at the beginning of the 20th century?”