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screwed up and brilliant - matty healy

(mdni) in which your whirlwind summer takes a turn you never could have predicted. part two of white and gold. 16185 words.

warnings (here we go): daddy kink (obvs), phone sex, authority kink, roleplay, dom/sub dynamics, mean dom!matty, spanking, semi-public sex, gagging, oral (f receiving), mentions of anal, vague allusions to parental fuckery

The singular thought circling through your head the entire way home is what the fuck. If it weren’t for the soreness in your muscles, the bruises on your thighs and your embarrassing lack of underwear, you’d believe you dreamt the whole thing. You stop the taxi a little ways down your street, trying not to draw attention to yourself returning from your unbelievable night. It’s not like your parents would know exactly where you’ve been, but you’d rather save yourself the embarrassment of getting caught coming home from a hookup.

It turns out you didn’t need to worry, though, your footsteps echoing through an empty house as you let yourself in the back. Checking your phone for the first time since you left the dinner with Matty, critically low battery and a text from your mother flash up at you. We’ve gone out for lunch at the Dove. Love you x, the text informs you, a sense of guilty relief washing over you. There’s few things you love more than your house being empty; your shoulders loose without your mother’s nervous, slightly oppressive energy and your father’s meaningful and disappointed glances. Your steps are light as you waltz up the stairs to your room, flinging open your wardrobe to start getting ready before you realise you don’t know what you should be dressing for.

You tip out your clutch onto the bed, business cards, lipgloss and a forgotten pair of earrings spilling on your sheets as you dig for Matty’s number. Tapping the keyboard idly, you try to think of a good opening message, inspiration striking as you catch sight of a discarded bra on your bedroom floor. You slip into a favourite set, black with gold detailing and leaving very little to the imagination, and pose in your bedroom mirror, texting the photo to Matty.

hi x

trying to get ready but i don’t know what to wear :( where are we going?

Fucking hell

Hi, pretty girl

You could wear that and I’d be a very happy man

yeah i bet you would

answer the question perv

I don’t want to spoil the surprise

if you don’t tell me im changing

Fine

Brat

It’s nice but relaxed

Youre not dressing for dinner its not that hard

rude

pick me up in an hour ;)

You turn back to your wardrobe with a groan — what the fuck does he mean by nice but relaxed? A skirt and a nice top? Heels or no heels? What are you supposed to do with your hair? Leafing through your clothes, you find a green sundress tucked away near the back, a vintage treasure you’d picked up at a market a few years ago and promptly forgotten about. By some stroke of luck, it fits perfectly, the skirt swirling gorgeously around your calves. Your reflection grins back at you as you dust on some makeup, finding a dangling pair of jade earrings to match.

Exactly on cue, your phone rings, flashing up Matty’s contact. “Hi, love. I’m outside — well, as close as I dare, anyway. I’m on a double yellow, actually. Risking my spotless driving record for you.”

You snort. “They’ve gone out, park in the drive. I’ll come to the door.” You pad down the stairs as Matty’s tyres crunch on the gravel outside. Smoothing down your hair nervously, you take a deep breath, the blurry outline of him visible through the stained glass of your front door. You swing the door open as Matty raises his fist to knock, giggling slightly at the way he stands, his hand hovering meaninglessly in midair.

His eyes blow wide as he takes you in, crowding you close in a split-second. “Hi, princess,” he grins, electricity tingling under your skin where he holds you by the waist, his body pressed against yours. “If nobody’s home, I can do this,” he breathes, catching your lips and kissing you deeply, licking into your mouth like a starving man.

After a long moment, you find the strength to push him away. “Matty, the neighbours!” you protest.

“Fine,” Matty says, walking you inside and kicking the door shut behind him. He pulls you back to him, catching your lips in a filthy kiss, a slide of lips and tongue, sticky with desire. Groaning into your mouth, his lips fall to your neck, pressing kisses over the concealed bruises on your neck. You can tell he wants to cover them, mark you up as his own, and you giggle as you push his head back.

“Do we have to go to lunch?” you tease. “They’re not gonna be back for hours.”

Matty pinches your ass through your skirt. “Needy girl. You’ll love the place, I promise.” Slowly, like it pains him, he lets go of you and steps back, eyes widening as he properly takes in the sight of you for the first time. “God, you look gorgeous, princess. You look like summer.” You flush, shifting on your feet and glancing at the floor. “Can’t believe I get to have you. You know everyone who sees you is gonna be fuckin’ jealous of me, gonna want my pretty girl for themselves?” He looks livid at the mere prospect, a muscle jumping in his jaw.

You giggle. “But I’ll be there with you. Why would I want anyone else?” you assure him, stretching up to kiss at the corners of his mouth until he cracks a smile. Your chest aches a little at the sight, a private moment of happiness stretching between you. You can almost see the path along with it, a brief flicker of a life with him dancing in your imagination before you swat it away.

Fuck, you’re in too deep. You’re hurtling towards a vast expanse of something, and you don’t even have the strength to look away. You can only hope the breakneck pace isn’t going to break your heart, too.

“That’s right,” Matty says, after what feels like an eternity. “All mine, yeah? Shall we?”

You nod, not yet trusting yourself to speak, and take his hand, sliding into the passenger seat of his car. The smell of clean leather envelops you, mixed with Matty’s now-familiar cigarettes and cologne smell. Matty’s hand lands on your thigh and traces absent circles as he reverses out of the drive. The streets roll by, rows of houses all merging together, your eyes glazing over while you avoid Matty’s gaze. “So pretty, baby,” he murmurs. “My pretty little passenger princess.”

“Does that mean you’ll drive me anywhere I want?” you tease, finally bringing your gaze back to Matty. The afternoon light casts him in a soft glow, his curls ruffling in the gentle breeze. He taps his fingers absently on the wheel, a sick thrill running through you as you remember feeling them on your skin, thighs clenching needily under his touch. You slide a hand between his legs, smirking at the hiss he lets out when you palm gently over his cock. “Promise I’ll make it worth your while,” you add teasingly, plying him with wide, innocent eyes.

Matty chuckles darkly and returns his other hand to the wheel, your skin impossibly cold in the absence his touch leaves behind. “You gonna get me off right here? In the car with the windows down? Such a naughty girl.” He inclines his head as if to say go on, calling your bluff, and you lower your gaze and return your hand to your lap, subdued. “That’s what I thought. Don’t make promises you can’t keep, princess.”

You shrug. “Wouldn’t want to taint your spotless driving record,” you tease, and he tips back his head and laughs, the sound filling the car and wrapping around you, your head going fuzzy with affection. A few minutes later, Matty puts the car in park, leaning over the centre console to kiss you. His hand comes up to cup your jaw, thumbing lightly over your cheek and smiling against your lips. Ever the gentleman, he comes to the passenger side to let you out, and you take his arm and let him lead you inside.

“Afternoon,” Matty greets the maître d’ with a polite smile. “Healy for two, one thirty?”

“Ah, yes, right this way, sir,” he says, his eyes flickering curiously over you as he leads you through the restaurant.

His gaze lands judgmentally on Matty when he tugs you into him by the waist, and you bristle, deliberately planting a kiss on his cheek as you walk. “Would you like to sit inside or outside?” the maître d’ asks in a tone that suggests he’d rather be anywhere else.

“Can we sit outside, please? It’s such a nice day,” you say, and Matty grins indulgently down at you. He inclines his head at the maître d’, who leads you into the restaurant’s courtyard. Your jaw drops at the oasis you’ve suddenly found yourself in, lush green dotted through with glass tables, quiet chatter undercut with the splash of a dancing water fountain.

“This place is gorgeous,” you say as Matty pulls out your chair for you. “Do you come here a lot?”

He sees right through you, smirking over his menu. “I’ve never brought a girl here,” he tells you, answering the question you’re really asking.

“You keep saying that,” you say thoughtfully. “No bullshitting this time, what makes me so special?”

Matty meets your eyes, holding your gaze deadly serious. “I don’t date a lot, princess,” he tells you. “The girls that I… spend time with…” Your jaw clenches. “They’re not… Well, I need to feel a connection, you know? And I hadn’t felt it in a long time. I was kind of starting to give up hope,” he huffs a quiet laugh, a soft smile crossing his face when he speaks. “And then I met you, and I could just feel it.” He’s gazing adoringly at you, and you suddenly wonder if maybe it’s okay that you’re in too deep, because maybe, just maybe, he’s right there with you.

“Matty, I—”

“Good afternoon!” a bright, falsely cheery voice cuts in. “Are you both ready for drinks?”

Annoyed at the interruption, you purse your lips and address Matty. “I don’t know… What do you think I should get?” you grin, deliberately playing up the affection, leaning towards him and batting your lashes.

“I don’t know, darling. Are you feeling like wine?”

“I can come back,” the waitress says, all pretence at cheer abandoned as she taps her pencil against her notepad impatiently.

Rolling your eyes, you wave a hand at her. “No, stay. Just give me a minute to decide, ‘kay?” You scan the menu and deliberately order the most expensive rosé with a smirk in Matty’s direction. He shrugs, ordering himself a Malbec, and the waitress finally buzzes off.

It feels inappropriate to return to your conversation after the interruption, and you chuckle awkwardly. The breeze ripples in the silence between you, pulling clouds away from the sun so it shines directly into your eyes. Wincing, you shield your face, squinting in a way you’re sure is horrendously unattractive. Matty laughs softly. “Here you go, darling,” he says, pulling his sunglasses off his head and gently resting them on your face. “God, and here I thought you couldn’t get any prettier,” he adds, and you flush, picking at imaginary lint on your dress to avoid his gaze.

“Flatterer,” you scoff, kicking softly at his shin. “Thank you,” you add, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“S’nothing, princess. Keep ‘em, if you want.” Matty shrugs as if they’re inconsequential, and not a two hundred pound accessory. “Smoke?” he offers as you’re still reeling.

You nod, tilting your head quizzically. “Thought you didn’t want me ruining my lungs?” you tease, slipping the cigarette between your lips.

Matty chuckles. “It’s a beautiful day, you’re getting fresh air, your pretty lungs will survive one,” he teases, flicking his lighter under your cigarette as you take a deep drag.

His gaze lingers meaningfully on you as the smoke curls from your mouth and you squirm. “What?” you ask, desire evident in his eyes; he just keeps fucking staring.

He blinks, shaking his head as if to clear it. “Sorry,” he murmurs. “God, you look fucking hot,” he adds with a chuckle. Just as you go to reply, the waitress returns with your drinks. You give a cursory thanks and take a long sip, full flavour swirling in your mouth. “You know, I wouldn’t have put you down as a dry wine kind of girl,” Matty remarks. “Sweet little thing like you.”

You flush the colour of your wine, but meet his gaze in challenge. “You don’t know everything about me.”

“I’d like to,” he says immediately, and you swallow thickly, his ability to disarm you frustratingly constant. He’s so fucking perfect, it’s actually disgusting. As you’re searching for a response, he perks up, tilting his head to tune into the song playing quietly over some unseen speaker. “Oh, man, I haven’t heard this song in forever,” he gasps, a boyish grin spreading across his face. “I was obsessed with this one when I was younger. Used to be on my band’s setlist and everything.”

Your jaw drops. “You were in a band?” you demand. “Were you any good?”

Matty chuckles. “I’d like to think so. S’a shame it didn’t pan out, really. I would’ve made a great rockstar, don’t you think?” he smirks, visions of Matty clad in a leather jacket, sweaty and gorgeous, crooning into a microphone swimming across your vision.

“Fuck, yeah. I’d have hated fighting your hordes of fangirls for your attention, though,” you sigh, and his grin widens as you stroke his ego. “Were you the guitarist?” you ask, memories of his calloused hands ghosting over your skin.

He scoffs, insulted. “I was the frontman, obviously.”

“Obviously,” you repeat, teasingly blowing smoke in his face as you stub out your cigarette. “But you still play?”

“Yeah,” Matty says, smiling wistfully, the expression taking years off him so clearly that you can almost see the ambitious, idealistic boy he must have been. You hope there’s a world where the band worked out for him, even if it means you’d never have met. “S’just a hobby, though,” he shrugs, interrupting your reverie. “You should hear my mate Hann, he’s fucking wicked.”

Taking a sip of your wine, you sigh meaningfully. “I’ve always wanted to learn how to play the guitar.” You lean purposefully on the words, and Matty grins.

“You want me to teach you?”

You smile blithely. “Oh, please. I can sight read sheet music and everything, I’d be such a good student, Professor,” you add, smirking as he stiffens slightly.

“Oh, behave,” he scolds lightly, tugging at his

collar as if he’s sweating at your words.

“Make me,” you giggle, meeting his eyes in challenge.

“You know I will, princess,” he says seriously, your skin prickling hot as he watches you, daring you to break first. You’re saved from having to, though, by the same waitress coming to take your order. Not even having picked up the food menu, you let Matty order for you, trusting his taste.

As it turns out, his taste is impeccable, down to the steak being cooked exactly the way you like. “God, this is fucking delicious,” you exclaim, digging in eagerly. “This place is amazing,” you add, unable to keep the beaming smile off your face. You chat back and forth for a couple of hours, asking about his family and his childhood, cooing at the stories he tells. If anyone were listening, they’d probably be nauseated by your obscene flirting, getting bolder as Matty continues plying you with wine even as he switches to water.

The same waitress returns, the false cheer bright in her tone as she offers you dessert menus. “No, thanks,” you say without taking your eyes off Matty. “We have dessert at home.” You flash your teeth in a grin so there can be no mistaking your meaning.

Matty picks up the bill, and you don’t even pretend to protest. It’s been years since you’ve been on a date you didn’t have to pay for, guys your age from your circles unusually stingy, and you feel guilty expecting broke college boys to pay for you. And it’s only feminist to split the bill with another girl, anyway. “Dessert, yeah?” he smirks as you slide into the passenger seat, and you squirm.

“I promise I’m just as sweet,” you tease. “Take me to yours and I’ll show you exactly how sweet I can be.”

Matty clicks his tongue. “I don’t think so,” he says, and your stomach sinks. “Good girl like you shouldn’t put out on the first date, or didn’t your daddy teach you any better?” he says, a shit-eating grin plastered across his face.

God, he’s a fucking tease. “You didn’t teach me anything like that, Daddy,” you pout. “You can’t get me all needy looking this hot and not let me have you. S’not fair.” You fold your arms, sulking.

“Oh, angel,” he tuts. “Not figured it out, yet? I don’t have to be fair.” And with that, your fate is sealed, Matty dropping you home and leaning over for a chaste kiss that he resists your attempts to deepen. “I’ll see you soon, princess. You know where to find me,” he promises, your eyes not leaving him until his car turns the corner and disappears from view.

You slope inside, disappointed and unsatisfied, plagued with the thought of where you could be right now if Matty had taken you home with him. Your father’s car is in the drive, and you groan to yourself, utterly uninterested in explaining yourself. Of course, you’re expected to anyways. “Where have you been?” your mother demands, and you fold your arms. If she’d asked out of curiosity, genuine interest, it would be different, but she only wants to know so she can approve or disapprove, sneering consternation written across her face.

“Out,” you say shortly, thick tension pulling taut between you.

“With who?” she asks, lips pursed.

“A friend,” you snap. “God, Mum, I went out for lunch, what’s it to you? I’m a grown-ass woman, I shouldn’t have to ask my mummy for permission to leave the house!”

“Language!” she exclaims, and you roll your eyes and push past her, storming up the stairs and slamming the door, finally breathing easy when the lock on your door forms a decisive barrier between you and your parents. Left alone, it doesn’t take long for your thoughts to drift back to Matty and the ache he left between your thighs. You wonder if he’s home yet, if he’ll want to hear your voice, or if it’s too soon.

You war with yourself for a few minutes, but your desire wins out, calling Matty up and laying back against your pillows. “Hello, darling.” He picks up on the second ring. “Missing me already?”

“Mhm,” you murmur, the mere sound of his voice sending a pulse of desire thrumming through you. “Thinkin’ about you. About how you got me all needy.”

He laughs darkly. “God, what am I going to do with you? Naughty girl can’t even keep her hands to herself for an hour. Are you getting wet for me, angel?”

“Yes,” you moan happily, thrilled to get what you want. “I need you.”

“You beg so pretty, baby,” he coos, grunting softly, and you can just picture him, cock half-hard in his palm as you hear the rustle of clothes dropping to the floor. “C’mon, tell Daddy what you want.”

You whimper, dipping your hand under your waistband, slick pooling against your fingertips. “Wish you were touching me,” you moan. “Could’ve brought me home with you. Could’ve bent me over anywhere you wanted, stuffed me full and fucking used me.”

“Such a slut,” Matty murmurs, faint, slick sounds echoing from the other end of the call as he grunts rhythmically. The image of him makes you dizzy, fisting his cock messily, hips thrusting into his hand. You moan quietly, rubbing slow, tight circles into your clit. “Are you touching yourself?” You murmur an affirmative. “Stop.” Your blood runs cold, like you’ve been doused in ice water.

“Wh- What?” you hiss, disbelieving.

“You heard me, darling. I told you, good girls don’t put out on the first date. Daddy’s teachin’ you manners, yeah?”

“That’s not fair, Daddy,” you whine again. “Don’t need you to tell me when I can get off. Managed just fine before you came along,” you add petulantly.

Matty just laughs. “Okay, baby. I’m sure you did. You could hang up this call right now, get yourself off all on your own. But you won’t,” he says, smugly confident. “You know why? Because Daddy knows what’s best for brats like you. And, really, you just wanna be my good, sweet, dumb little girl, don’t you, angel?”

Thick, choking lust envelops you, crushing the air from your lungs as you find yourself whimpering, “Yes, Daddy. Won’t touch anymore,” you say, your mouth moving without your brain’s say-so.

Your body hums with energy, tense with the knowledge you won’t be allowed to release it. “Good girl,” Matty croons, your chest warming at the praise. “Still gotta punish you for bein’ a brat, though,” he adds, through a soft moan. “Don’t want you touchin’ that pretty cunt without my permission, ‘kay?” Your stomach sinks, arousal flaring impossibly in your gut.

“Okay, Daddy. I’ll be good,” you promise, his appreciative moan sending heat spiralling between your legs. You stay on the call until the sound of Matty spilling into his fist fills your ears, leaving you sticky and fucking throbbing with need. It takes you what feels like forever to get your breathing under control enough that your legs will stop shaking to carry you to the shower. You gasp as you plunge into the freezing cold spray, barely enough to quench the fire rolling through your veins. Unable to resist, you text Matty a picture of yourself when you step out, the steam on the mirror teasingly blurring your wet, naked body.

And that is the last time you hear Matty’s voice for an entire fucking week. There always seems to be some obstacle, a friend’s birthday, or a dinner you’re not invited to, or both of you are up to your eyeballs in pointless, mind-numbing work. You’d almost think he was avoiding you, if not for your constant back-and-forth over text and Matty’s incessant pleas for you to visit him at the office. You resist for a while, terrified of being caught and what that would mean for this… thing… that’s blooming between you, still fragile and new.

But it’s driving you fucking crazy, and you miss him, so after a week, you find an excuse; because you’re a good, dutiful daughter, you’re bringing your father lunch to share after he cancelled your meal out yesterday. You zone out after the same five minutes of talking in circles, giving automatic, robotic responses you know he wants to hear. It would be a lie to say you didn’t breathe a sigh of relief when the lift doors ding shut, carrying you up to Matty’s office. You haven’t told him you’re coming, hoping your presence will be a welcome surprise. What you hadn’t counted on, though, was his bleach-blonde secretary, idly tapping on her keyboard and actively standing in your way.

Your heart sinks. She’s pretty, unbelievably so, and barely older than you. If Matty hasn’t already had her, which you doubt, it’s crossed his mind. What if that’s what he’s been doing, all those times he’s complained about leaving the office late? A vision of her spread out on his desk fills your mind, Matty crooning his sweet, filthy words into her ear as her chest heaves. Her boobs are fake, you decide, your gaze flickering to them. It’s not humanly possible for a pair of tits to be that big and perky at the same time. Pushing down the jealousy roiling in your gut, you step up to her desk. Her eyes sweep over you, unimpressed, and she purses her lips.

You push your shoulders back, letting the snotty, spoiled brat who’s never been told no free, a snide grin spreading across your features. It feels fucking good to exercise that facet of your personality again, having tamped down on it since you went to uni — makes it easier to play well with others. Impatiently, you click your fingers in front of the woman’s face. “I’m here to see Mr. Healy,” you say with a saccharine smile. Sure, you could just call him and tell him you’re outside, but this is so much more fun. Especially now that you get to mess with her head, too. Matty’s never fucked her, but she wants him to, you can tell by the way her face falls when she sees you. Good, you think vindictively. Maybe blondes don’t have more fun. Not with him, at least.

“Do you have an appointment?” she asks, voice nasally and grating.

You sigh, like she’s asking you a ridiculous question. “No, but he’ll want to see me, trust me. Tell him… Tell him Angel is here, yeah?” She looks at you, sceptical and detached. “My parents were hippies, what can you do?” you shrug, raising your eyebrows and flicking your fingers patronisingly at her, as if to say go on. Your gazes lock in a battle of wills for a brief moment, but you grin victoriously when she picks up her phone.

“Hello, sir. There’s a girl out here asking to see you.” The way she says girl feels like a slur dripping from her overglossed lips. “Says her name’s Angel? She doesn’t have an appointment, I can send her away, if you like. Won’t be a problem.”

“No, no, send her in. And, for future reference, she’s welcome anytime, okay? No appointment necessary. Actually, I’ll come get her.” Matty’s voice is faint from the other end of the phone, but distinct enough that you can hear his words and the click as he sets the phone down. Seconds later, he emerges from his office, breaking into a wide grin at the sight of you. “Hello, angel,” he grins, kissing your cheek politely but lingering a little longer than appropriate. “Feels like it’s been forever. Come on in, yeah?” He takes you by the waist and leads you to his office, and you throw a smirk over your shoulder at the secretary as you go, a clear message: I win, you lose. “Oh, and Ruby? Nobody in my office for the next hour, alright?” She flushes as red as her name suggests, glaring at you furiously, trying to tell you this isn’t over. You ignore her, though, because you and Matty are finally alone.

“Only an hour?” you giggle. “You’re losing your touch, sir.”

“Oh, sir, hm? That’s new,” he teases as you perch on his desk, drinking in the sight of him with something dangerously close to relief.

You lean forward. “She wants you. So fucking badly,” you remark.

“I know,” he shrugs, loosening his tie with one hand and stroking your bare thigh with the other.

This time, you let the jealousy bubble up to the surface. “Have you ever fucked her?” You know the answer, but you want to hear him say it.

Matty laughs. “Have you ever heard the expression, don’t shit where you eat?” he asks, and you wrinkle your nose and nod. “Well, that goes double for the young, hot blonde the company dangles in front of you like fucking bait, just waiting for you to cross a line.”

You’re starting to see red, his words nothing close to what you wanted to hear. “But you would. If she didn’t work for you.”

He shrugs. “Maybe.” He grips your hips, sliding you closer to him, dislodging stacks of paper and pens from his desk. “If I didn’t have you.” Then, his fingers creep higher, tantalisingly close to where you want them, and you push down the argument you were about to start. Giving up the best sex you’ve ever had isn’t worth it just because you got a little too possessive over someone who isn’t actually yours.

“She’d never be as good as me,” you say bitterly. “I don’t think a man like you would let a little red tape stop you if you actually wanted her. What’s wrong with her, really?”

Matty smirks. “Jealous girl,” he says smugly. “Don’t wanna talk about her when I could have this,” he adds, rubbing slow, teasing circles into your thigh. You whine softly, arching forward into his touch. “You’d be better than her, yeah? You wanna prove it?” You tilt your head quizzically. “Let’s say you’re my secretary, yeah, baby?”

A thrill runs up your spine. “Yes, sir,” you breathe. You slide off the desk to prop yourself in the chair opposite his, unbuttoning your blouse a little and leaning back with a smirk. “You wanted to see me, sir?” you say, playing up your wide, innocent eyes.

“Yes,” Matty says thoughtfully. “I think we need to discuss your behaviour in my office.” You bite your lip to clamp down on your grin, nodding seriously. “Always in those short little skirts, bendin’ over so you can show off those pretty, lace panties. You wear those for me, don’t you, baby?”

You smirk, popping the buttons of your blouse past decency. “You’re wrong, sir.” You spread your legs wide, and he chokes on his inhale. “I’m not wearing any panties.”

Matty groans, sweeping his desk clear, pens and paper scattering across the floor. “Bend over,” he orders sharply. “Now.”

You stand to obey, then pause. “Wait one second,” you say, darting around the desk so you’re face-to-face. “Just realised I haven’t done this yet.” You sling your arms around his neck and press your lips against his, kissing him hungrily and melting at his touch. Desperately, you try not to dissect the relief flooding your body from the point where his hands meet your skin. “Okay,” you say as you pull back, breathless. “M’ready now.”

Bracing your elbows on the desk, you bend over, baring your dripping cunt as Matty shoves your skirt up your thighs. “Spread your legs for me.” You obey, but he just growls and kicks them further apart, a shocked sound pulling free from your throat. “Wider,” he orders. “Not doin’ such a good job of convincing me you’d be so much better than her, you know,” he says, tone almost conversational if his nails weren’t digging into your hips so hard they’ll bruise.

Angry, red-hot jealousy floods your veins, tangling cruelly with the ball of anticipation winding tight in your core. You can’t decide whether to go lax, let Matty have his good girl, or to fight against him for comparing you to her. It doesn’t take long for the brat to win out. “You want her so bad? Call her in, then,”

You can practically hear Matty’s eyebrows raise, the realisation you won’t let him have this so easily setting in. “You want me to, baby?” He clicks his tongue. “I don’t think so. I think you’re jealous of the pretty girl who sits outside my office all day.” He reaches around to pop another button of your blouse. “And you’re scared of what I might be doing with her when you can’t see.” He pulls your shirt out of the waistband of your skirt and tugs it off your shoulders. “So you want her to know exactly what we’re doing in here, so you can lay some kind of claim on me. Am I right?” Your mind spins as you try to think of a smartass response, thoughts jolted free from your head when Matty spanks you harshly. The crack of skin on skin might have been loud enough to be heard from outside, you think with a pulse of satisfaction. “Unless the next words out of your mouth are yes, sir or yes, Daddy, I don’t want to hear it.”

“Yes, Daddy,” you moan out, your cunt throbbing needily. “You’re right. Want her to see how good you fuck me, want her to know she could never make you feel as good as I do,” you say, the admissions stumbling one after another from your lips, unbidden.

“There’s my good girl,” he coos, your stomach clenching at the sound of his belt unbuckling, his zipper falling. “Such a little brat when you’re gagging for my cock, aren’t you, princess?” You nod furiously, whining as he teases your hole with the tips of his fingers. Desperate for friction, you grind back against them, weak, helpless moans tumbling from your lips. “Beg for it.” You choke on a gasp. “Go on, angel. You want my cock so bad? Beg for it.”

You don’t even have time to pretend to have dignity before wanton pleas spill free. “Fuck, Daddy, please! Want your cock so fucking bad, always make me feel so good, s’not the same when I do it myself,” you whine, giving a shuddering gasp when he teases your clit with the tip of his cock. “Please! I’m beggin’ you, Daddy, I’ll be good, I promise.”

Matty chuckles. “Alright, baby, alright,” he murmurs soothingly, lining himself up with your soaked entrance and sliding home so fast you’re gasping. Your knees buckle as you scramble for purchase on the desk, nails scraping against the varnished wood. “Oh, princess, it’s okay, Daddy’s here now,” he soothes, your cunt pulsing desperately around him. “Look at you, bein’ all sweet for me now you’re stuffed full. Such a dumb little slut, aren’t you, baby? Bet you wish you didn’t have to think about anythin’ except my cock.”

“Mhm,” you whine, arching your back as much as you can, your tits pressing against the cool wood of the desk. “M’just your stupid little slut, Daddy, please fuck me,” you beg, grinding back against him.

Matty’s hips slam suddenly against yours, a whining scream tearing from your throat as pleasure spills over in your veins. His hand comes down to cover your mouth, your body going limp against his. “Shh, princess. I’m at work, remember?” The reminder that fucking anyone could come to his door, know exactly what he’s doing to you, sends a thrill up your spine. “Can you be quiet, hm? Or do I need to make you quiet?” Another deep thrust draws a long, low moan from your throat, and he seems to have answered his own question. The fabric of his tie covers your mouth, spit leaking out around it. “There you go, angel. Nice and quiet for me. Bang on the desk if you need me to stop, okay?”

You nod, something that might be yes, Daddy coming out garbled around the gag. Matty fucks into you brutally, your chest heaving as ecstasy burns under your skin. “Good girl,” he coos. “Good, sweet girl. Takin’ my cock so well, princess. Such a pretty toy for your Daddy.”

Matty sets a bruising pace, your tongue pushing against his tie as it holds back your pathetic little noises. Your tits press against the desk, the sharp tip of a pencil digging into your bare stomach. You barely feel it, unconscious of anything but Matty’s skin against yours. “God, you feel so fucking good, princess. Daddy’s girl, aren’t you? Why would I ever want another girl when I’ve ruined you so perfect for me? Look at you, good little girl gagged and bent over my desk like a whore.” You moan, filthy words washing over you, sliding down your throat, sticky, wet pleasure dripping out of you.

You’re dizzy with lust, dazed and drooling, ecstasy spiralling through your bones. You can’t even think, Matty fucking all coherence out of you, every thrust clouding your mind more and more. Garbled moans fall from your lips in a filthy, spit-slick string, Matty’s rhythmic grunts swirling deliciously around your head. The calloused pads of his fingers find your clit, euphoria scorching in your bloodstream at the scrape over your swollen nerves. Your legs feel like jelly, melting hot and sweet under Matty’s touch. “You’re close, aren’t you, baby? Can feel your pretty cunt squeezin’ me so tight, princess. You wanna cum for Daddy?”

A few more rough circles over your clit, one more deep, spearing thrust and you break, wailing around the gag. “Good girl,” Matty croons, fucking you through as stars shatter behind your closed lids. Liquid ecstasy melts your bones, glueing you to the desk. Matty groans your name, cock pulsing as he spills inside you, a sound that’s pure desire falling from his lips. Still inside you, he unties the gag, letting it fall onto the desk as you draw a deep breath. “How are you feeling, angel?”

“So good,” you murmur, voice scratchy from disuse, whining as he pulls out of you. “Always make me feel so good, Daddy,” you add, letting Matty flip you around and set you on the desk, his eyes falling to your glistening core. Cum drips obscenely from you, puddling sticky and wet on his desk, a filthy smirk crossing his face.

“Good girl. So pretty for me, darling.” He tucks himself away, and once his belt is buckled he’s the picture of professionalism while you sit in front of him, sex-rumpled and half-naked and panting. “First girl I’ve ever fucked in here, you know,” he adds, so offhand you’d almost miss it if it it hadn’t made your heart jump into your throat. You can’t make head or fucking tail of him, one minute taunting you with his pretty secretary, the next swearing that you’re special. “M’sorry, darling, I don’t have much in here to clean you up with,” he says with a soft laugh, wiping a tissue through your folds and crooning soothingly when you whimper.

“S’okay. Was worth it,” you say. Your limbs feel tired and heavy, your eyelids drooping as you glance at the time and realise half your allotted hour is gone.

“You tired, sweet girl?” he asks with a soft, fond chuckle.

“Yeah,” you yawn. “You wore me out. Wish we were in bed. That was the best sleep of my life,” you confess, huffing a soft laugh.

You shudder as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch careful and tender. “Soon, princess, I promise. I’m sorry we haven’t seen each other. Missed you,” he says, and the admission melts in your chest, glueing your organs together and squeezing tightly. You sigh, the question on the tip of your tongue dissolving like a sugar pill as your resolve shatters. “How’s your week been, angel? Your friend’s birthday, right?”

You swallow a grimace. Isobel is hardly your friend, in the same way your parents aren’t friends, but you run in the same circles so proximity forced you into something resembling friendship. “Oh, the usual,” you say idly, twirling a curl that’s sprung loose from the gel in his hair around your finger. “Drinks, drugs, boys,” you tease, grinning when his jaw clenches. So he can dish it out but not take it? Interesting.

“Did you talk to any boys, princess?” he asks, eyes glittering dangerously.

Shrugging airily, you kick your legs where they dangle off the desk. “So what if I did?” you challenge. The next words wrench themselves free of your mouth, tasting bitter as they fall. “We’re only fucking, it’s not like you actually own me. If I want to fuck someone else, are you gonna stop me?”

The question hangs thick and acerbic in the air between you and Matty swallows visibly. “No,” he says after a pause. “You can fuck whoever you want, princess. Won’t be as good as me, though, and you know it,” he says, smug and acrid.

The air between you is tense, horribly charged and all wrong, and you can feel tears prickling at the back of your throat. “I should get going,” you say abruptly, getting to your feet. “I’ll see you soon,” you add, not looking back at him as you cross the room.

“Say hi to Ruby on your way out, yeah?” Matty says, something close to a sneer in his voice. As you open the door, though, you paste on a blithe smile and relax your shoulders for Ruby’s benefit.

“Hope it’s not you who has to clean up in there,” you smirk as you pass. “Made a bit of a mess,” you giggle, savouring the way Ruby’s face shifts in colour as she swallows her grimace.

And so you leave Matty’s office more confused about what he wants than when you fucking came in. Something shifts between you after that. Your words don’t change, Matty just as syrupy-sweet as ever, but the difference is palpable, sugared words souring as you digest them. He gets even more possessive while you fuck, more degrading, insisting you’re such a little slut, baby. Whoring yourself out to every fucking boy who looks at you, but you always come runnin’ back to your Daddy, yeah?

But it’s not always angry and mean. Sometimes, it’s slow and so sweet you could swear it’s loving, Matty lavishing you with praise, murmurs of that’s right, such a good girl and Daddy’s girl, so pretty for me soaking into your skin and tying themselves in knots around your brain. Some nights, especially recently, you don’t even fuck when you go to his place. Being there is a comfort, away from catty friends and overbearing parents, somewhere you can just be. Last night, you’d suddenly realised you kind of just weren’t in the mood, apologising and making to leave, and he’d just kissed your temple, pulled you in close and asked what your favourite movie was. And you started to believe. And then you’ll go out for drinks, so much as mention a boy’s name; he’ll toss a jab about some pretty young girl he works with, and you’re right back where you started, tearing each other apart at the seams.

You’re this close to ripping your fucking hair out, sick to death of bottling it all up when you finally decide you need to unload on someone. “I just don’t get him,” you complain, your best friend Thea making sympathetic noises at all the right moments. “One minute it’s all you’re my girl and my pretty baby, the next it’s such a whore, bet you’d let anyone fuck you.”

“But you’re still sleeping at his place?” Thea asks, judgement obvious in her tone.

You groan. “Yes, leave me alone! If you saw the state I’m in after, you’d understand.”

Thea clicks her tongue. “And you haven’t actually fucked anyone else?”

“No,” you admit, defeated. “Don’t know if I could, to be honest.”

“Does he know that? Has he?”

“No and I don’t know. I just don’t know where I fucking stand, and I can’t ask. He’ll think I’m some pathetic little girl who can’t handle it, I know it.”

“You know what you need? You, me, a pair of slutty little dresses, and those fancy cocktails with about twelve kinds of alcohol in them from 102. I’m not taking no for an answer, I’ll see you at ten.”

And, true enough, at eleven you’re clutching a gin bowl for dear life and screeching along to the song thumping through the club’s speakers. “I need a refill, c’mon!” you shout in Thea’s ear, dragging her off to the bar where you can hear slightly better.

Despite the queue, the bartender stops in front of you with a smile. “Love that dress. What can I get for you?” You scan the menu, brow scrunching in a frown, but your words die in your throat as the bartender steps into slightly better light and you take her in properly. She’s a fucking goddess, model-pretty with thick, dark hair and long-lashed brown eyes.

Thea swats your arm and you realise your gaze has drifted down, and you pull it back up to where she’s waiting with a smirk. “You’ve— The menu’s changed. I used to get a Sucker,” you manage to get out around the lump in your throat.

“Alright,” she says cryptically. “And you?”

Thea shrugs. “I’ll have what she’s having, I’m not picky.”

She laughs. “Oh, no. You two do not pick the same poisons. I’ve got this, okay?” Slightly entranced, you watch her work, setting something golden and glittering in front of you. “Sunshine Baby,” she says with a wink. “And for you… Antichrist.”

Thea takes her swirling, dark drink with a delighted grin. “She was into you,” she teases, nudging you with her hip.

“Oh, please, she wanted a tip.” The pair of you find a table, one with a prime view of the DJ booth so you can ogle the hot, blond DJ as he whips the crowd into a frenzied mass of sweating bodies. You keep returning to the same bartender, whose name you learn is Charli, and she keeps plying you with free shots for hot girls and increasingly strong drinks, until you find yourself stumbling onto the dancefloor and losing track of Thea.

Your head feels light, your body loose in a way it hasn’t been in weeks, the alcohol dampening your coherent thoughts. A pair of hands find your waist, and you twist your head back to meet the eyes of their owner. He couldn’t be further from Matty if he tried; your age, for one, tall, willowy and blond. The kind of man you’d usually never have looked twice at. But maybe that’s exactly what you need right now, you think, grinding your hips back against his with a grin. “Can I get your number?” he asks, pulling you free of the dancefloor, sweaty and flushed and smiling freely. After a long moment of consideration, Matty’s warning gaze flashing in your mind, you smirk and give it to him. “Let me take you out. You free Thursday?”

His overconfidence is jarring, and you swallow a frown. “I don’t know,” you tease. “Maybe. Why don’t we get back out there and you can convince me?” You obviously aren’t going to fucking go. Even as drunk as you are, you know that. Whatever this thing with Matty is, it’s serious to you, and you know the pair of you need to untangle it. But, for now, you shove it to the back of your mind, distracting yourself with free shots from a pretty boy, your head spinning wildly by the time you find Thea.

She might even be drunker than you are, stumbling and slurring as you bundle her into a taxi; she lives on the other side of town to you, so it doesn’t make sense to share. “Go, I’ll be fine,” you insist. “There’ll be another one in a minute, okay? Bye! Love you!” you shout as the car pulls away, Thea’s slightly green-tinged face hanging out of the open window. Left alone, you suddenly realise just how drunk you are, your vision blurred as you slump to the curb. When ten minutes pass without a taxi appearing, panic starts to set in; it’s too close to closing time and you’re too drunk, 102 won’t let you back in, and it’ll be the same story anywhere up and down the street. You’re alone in the dark, bile rising in your throat as you do the only thing you can think of and dial Matty.

“Hello?” he says, voice gruff with sleep. “Bit late to be calling, darling. Can’t sleep? Need some help to relax?” he adds, his smirk audible.

Your voice wavers as you speak. “M’sorry, I didn’t know who else to call,” you say, choked with the effort of holding back tears. “I can’t call my parents, I don’t have any fucking friends who’d care, there’s no taxis, I—” you cut yourself off with a hysterical gasp.

Matty shushes you soothingly. “Baby. Baby, breathe. Breathe for me, okay?” You try your best to obey, drawing deep, hiccuping breaths, shuddering harshly on the exhale. “What’s wrong, love?” You stumble your way through an explanation, babbling profuse apologies, mortification creeping up your spine. “Darling, it’s okay. Don’t be sorry. Where are you?”

“102,” you sniffle. “It’s—”

“I know the place. Sit tight, okay? I’m getting in the car now, I’ll be there soon. I’ve got you, promise.” The wave of relief that floods your body when you finally spot Matty’s car pulling to a stop in front of you is near-crippling, and you’d have collapsed when he wraps his arms around you if he wasn’t supporting your weight. “Oh, baby. Sweet girl, it’s okay. I’m here now. I’ve got you,” he repeats soothingly, only pulling away when you stop swaying on your feet. “God, you smell like the floor of a dive bar,” he teases, and you chuckle weakly. “C’mon, angel. Let’s get you in bed, yeah?”

You murmur another apology as you slide into the passenger seat, and he waves it away with a smile. “Hey, my house is the left back there,” you say, the cool night air having snapped you back to yourself a little.

“I know,” Matty says quietly. “I’m not sending you back there alone, darling. Promised I’d take care of you, didn’t I?” he says, his hand on your thigh gently calming instead of teasing.

“Thank you,” you mumble, looking down at your lap as Matty parks the car in his drive.

“Any time, angel. I’m serious. I’m glad you called. Don’t ever want you to think I won’t be here if you’re not okay.” And fuck if that sickening, chaotic mess of feelings doesn’t just bubble right back up to the surface. He leads you into the kitchen, your body curled into his to steady yourself. “I’ll get you something to eat, okay?”

You shake your head. “Mm-mm. You’re already doing too much. And I won’t keep it down, anyway,” you say, pressing a hand to your roiling stomach. “I just need to lie down.” You start to wander into the living room, and Matty grabs your wrist gently.

“You need to eat something, darling. Drink some water, sleep in a bed,” he adds insistently. You let him fuss over you, plying you with a slice of toast and a glass of water, and you tuck yourself into his chest as he carries you up to bed. Dressed in one of his well-worn shirts, his familiar scent fills your lungs, comforting as he tucks himself into bed next to you.

“Thank you,” you repeat. “Can’t say it enough. Didn’t have to do all this, Matty. I would’ve been okay.”

“Don’t want you just okay,” he answers. “Want you feeling good, and safe, and happy. Get some sleep, love, m’here.” You close your eyes obligingly, but your drunken haze lifting has set your thoughts free, spinning like a coin set on its edge that just won’t fall. Your night plays back in sickening detail behind your lids, the memory of the boy’s hands on you bringing bile up your throat. Laying in Matty’s bed without having been thoroughly exhausted first always plays with your sanity, your brain wandering to places you know it shouldn’t go as he sleeps peacefully next to you.

The sun is coming up by the time you give up on sleep, hoping Matty’s rhythmic breathing means he won’t hear you trying to sneak away. No such luck, though. “Where you goin’, sweetheart?” he asks, and you feel a stab of guilt at interrupting his sleep yet again.

“Home. I’ll get out of your hair, now. Thank you again,” you say quietly.

“Baby. Princess. Come here, come back here,” Matty says, and he looks so sweet and earnest, sleep-soft and smiling, that you obey, and you can’t help the happy little sigh that escapes you as he pulls you close.

Shame burns hot through you as you remember the previous night all over again, and you can’t stop yourself from blurting out, “A boy asked me on a date last night.”

Matty’s hand tightens on your hip. “What did you say?” he asks, voice low with warning.

You sigh, steeling yourself to look into his eyes. “What do you want me to have said? you answer, and he blinks, confusion written across his features. “What is this, Matty? Because if this is casual, if you just want a shiny young girl on your arm for a few months, it’s fine by me,” you lie, pushing down the nausea that pools at your words. “But if this is just fun, we should be allowed to see other people — are you seeing other people?” you ask, tension winding between your shoulder blades as you prepare for the answer.

“No,” Matty practically growls. “And I’m not fucking anyone else, either, before you ask. I haven’t in weeks.” He huffs a laugh. “I tried, the day I met you, tried to get you out of my head ‘cause I didn’t think I’d get to have you.” His thumb rubs gentle circles into your hip, his touch comforting as his words soak in, a soothing balm to your nerves. “Didn’t fucking work. Couldn’t stop picturing you instead,” he confesses. “You’re in my head, princess. M’sorry I let my little strop go on so long. Thinkin’ about some other man touching you was driving me crazy. I was bein’ selfish. If you want to see other people, I—”

“I don’t,” you interrupt. “Only want you.”

He breaks out in a wide grin. “Pictured this being a bit more romantic, but,” Matty pinches your hip gently, and you giggle, pressing a soft kiss against his lips. “You’re my girl, yeah? Properly mine.”

“Yeah,” you say, practically glowing as you smile back at him. “As long as you’re mine.”

He threads a hand into your hair, kisses you like breathing is a choice, licking eagerly into your mouth as you melt against him. “What are you gonna say if another boy asks you on a date, princess?”

“I have a boyfriend,” you beam, just using the word making your heart warm. The tangled knot that’s sat in your belly for weeks now blissfully untied, your body feels loose and happy and willing. “I’m gonna have a shower, okay, then I’ve gotta thank you properly, yeah?”

A filthy smirk pulls at Matty’s lips. “I like the sound of that.” You giggle, pressing a kiss to his nose before climbing off him.

“You would,” you tease, padding into the bathroom and running the shower. You luxuriate under the water for several long, glorious minutes, the water pressure melting the last lingering tension between your shoulders. The smell of the club lingers in your hair until you scrub it with Matty’s expensive shampoo, the smell familiar as you work your fingers over your scalp, lingering like you’ll be able to absorb him through your skin. You towel your hair mostly dry, despite your insistence that Matty was committing a cardinal sin by doing the same, and wander back into the bedroom still naked and dripping wet.

Matty chokes on a gasp. “Fuck. Hi, gorgeous.” The praise heats your cheeks and you kneel at the foot of his bed, clasping your hands behind your back.

“Hi, Daddy,” you say sweetly. “I said I’d thank you properly. Gonna show you what a good girl I can be. Best girl you’ll ever have.” Matty smirks, sitting up to give himself a better view. “Can do whatever you want with me. All day long.” He smirks, dirty and sleazy and delicious, and pats the sheets next to him.

“C’mere, princess. Up you get.” You scramble to obey, sighing happily when he tangles his legs with yours and kisses you slow and deep. His hardness presses against your thigh as you make out, his hands wandering to your ass and squeezing. “God, so perfect, darling,” he praises. “Can’t believe you’re all mine.”

“Yours,” you whimper into his mouth, almost deliriously happy. His kiss is almost ferocious, hungry and devouring, desire coiling under your skin. “Daddy, please. Want you so bad,” you murmur.

Matty laughs. “Patience, angel. Thought you were gonna be good?” he says, but it’s light and teasing, without any of the underlying meanness that might have laced his tone a week ago. You relax, tension unspooling in your belly as you put your trust in him. His hands skim over your body, somehow both gentle and working you into a frenzy. A litany of pathetic little whimpers fall from your lips as you squirm under his hands, Matty smirking into the kiss. “Sweet, needy baby,” he croons. “Missed havin’ you all sweet for me. M’sorry I was so mean, princess. Gonna make it up to you, I swear.” His fingers finally find your clit, heat welling between your thighs. It takes a Herculean effort to stay still, not react beyond your involuntary gasp, but the proud little smile on Matty’s face is worth it. “Good girl. Tell Daddy what you want, angel.”

You nod, swallowed in hazy pleasure as he rubs slow circles over your clit. “Want you to fuck me,” you choke out, your throat closing in overwhelming arousal.

Matty rolls on top of you, connecting your lips in a messy kiss. “Of course, baby. You okay like this? Wanna watch your pretty face while I fuck you.”

“Please,” you breathe. Matty doesn’t tease, just rubs gentle circles over your clit as he enters you, moaning softly into your mouth. Your hips roll, desire pooling under your skin as he fucks you slow and deep.

“God, missed havin’ you like this,” he breathes, his head falling into your shoulder. “Oh, darling, I know, I know. Daddy’s here, I’ve got you, okay?” he murmurs as you whimper softly, languid, bone-deep pleasure rolling over you. Matty’s eyes are liquid with affection, his lips curving into an unconscious smile.

His lips find yours again, your tongues sliding together as punched-out gasps fall from your lips in time with his smooth, measured thrusts. It’s immeasurably intense, Matty playing your body like a symphony, and you’re powerless to do anything but whine and writhe. “Thank you s’much, Daddy. Feels so fucking good,” you whimper, locking your legs around his waist. The change in angle is glorious, ecstasy winding through your bloodstream as Matty rubs circles into your clit.

“Good girl,” Matty murmurs, “Such a good girl for Daddy. My girl, my fucking girl. Wish I could keep you all sweet and cockdrunk for me all the fuckin’ time. Fuckin’ wish I could have you as my little kept girl, have this pussy at home waitin’ for me every fuckin’ night,” he groans, the familiar fantasy spiralling through your mind. He murmurs soft, sugary words into your ear, liquid desire melting your brain until you’re sure it must be dripping from your ears, soaking the sheets under your hair. “So, so pretty, darling. Look so gorgeous while I’m fucking you, god.”

You glow at the praise, heat thrumming under your skin as his hips meet yours over and over. You’re practically delirious, lost in thick, syrupy pleasure, the lewd sound of skin meeting filling the room. “Mmh, oh, my God, fuck—” you gasp, pleasure coiling tight in your belly as you dig your nails into his back. “M’gonna cum, Daddy, oh, my God, need it s’bad. Wanna cum, wanna make you cum, shit. Need to feel it, need you to fill me up, make me yours, God, please!”

“Fuck, such a good girl,” Matty gasps, his rhythm faltering as he gets closer. “Can hold on for me, just for a second, yeah? Wanna cum together,” he adds, and you whine, rolling your hips up against him and trembling with the effort of holding your orgasm at bay. He fucks into you with deep, sloppy thrusts, moaning into your mouth and pinching your clit. Garbled moans of fuck and yes and Daddy stumble from your lips, sticky, hot desire dripping from your cunt as you writhe under him. “Fuck, princess, you ready?” Matty gasps against your lips.

“Yeah, m’ready, Daddy, c’mon. Cum in me, fill up this slutty little pussy. M’yours, your good girl, your little cumdump. God, need it s’bad,” you moan, breaking into a whine as Matty spills inside you with a groan. Your orgasm follows a split-second later, moaning against Matty’s mouth with stardust glittering in your veins. Euphoria scorches under your skin, your head floating clear of your body as pleasure floods you, gasping and moaning. “Thank you,” you say dopily, smiling up at him as he pulls out. You widen your legs to watch his cum dripping out of you, pooling obscene and sticky on the mattress.

Matty watches you with a laugh. “Little cumslut,” he says fondly.

“Your little cumslut,” you smirk, stretching out your sore muscles. “When I said anything you want, I meant anything,” you grin. “Want me to be your little kept girl? Cook and clean for you while you look all pretty and important?”

He chuckles. “First of all, I’ve seen what you think passes for a meal, princess. Don’t know how you haven’t poisoned yourself.” You swat his shoulder, laughing. “Second of all, if you can stand right now, I haven’t worked hard enough,” he says, a smirk pulling at his lips.

“You’re lucky I like you cocky,” you tease, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth and testing your weight on your feet as you stand. Matty catches you as you stumble slightly, I told you so written plainly on his face. “Don’t,” you warn, before it can leave his mouth.

“Y’know, I think I like the sound of having a little housewife for the day,” he grins, your stomach tying itself in a knot at the word wife from his lips. “C’mon, sweet girl, I’m sure we can find something for you to occupy yourself with while you’re waitin’ for me to fuck you dumb again, huh?” he teases, your thighs clenching at the words. You bend to reach for your clothes, and he tsks softly. “Didn’t say you could get dressed, did I, angel?”

“No, Daddy. I won’t.” You swallow thickly, following him downstairs, feeling shockingly exposed in the glare of the sunlight pooling from the floor-to-ceiling glass windows. Matty’s cum trickles down your thighs as you hover beside him.

“Make us some tea, would you, darling?” he says, casual like you’re not naked and dripping cum on his pristine kitchen floor. “Shame you haven’t got a little apron, or something. Think I’d go a bit crazy, seein’ you in my kitchen dripping wet in nothing but an apron and a smile. Gotta teach you how to cook someday, if you wanna be my kept girl,” he continues, still maddeningly conversational as your cunt pulses wantonly at his words. “Tea, darling? Or have I got you too dumb for that without even touching you?” he teases.

Almost mechanically, you fill the kettle and flick it on, dropping a teabag into a mug for him and wrinkling your nose unsubtly. “Can I have a coffee? I don’t do tea.”

Matty laughs. “Course, princess. Want you to make yourself at home. Coffee’s just down there.” He points to a cupboard near your feet, stroking over the curve of your ass as you bend over. You don’t realise his game until you scan the contents of the cupboard and find nothing but pots and pans, and his fingers are tracing your messy, sensitive cunt. “Oops, did I say down?” he deadpans, reaching above your head to open another cupboard. “I meant up.”

“Perv,” you tease, retrieving the tin of coffee as the kettle whistles.

“Can’t help it,” he murmurs, dipping his head to kiss softly at your neck and jaw. “Too fucking gorgeous. Can’t believe you’re all mine.”

You giggle, breaking his hold to pour your drinks. “Can’t believe it took us this long. We’re idiots, kind of.”

“A bit,” he chuckles, accepting his tea and taking a sip. “So, what did you say? To that boy?” he asks, and you roll your eyes.

“No, obviously. Felt so guilty taking his number. Deleted it in the car,” you admit, staring into your coffee to avoid his gaze.

“Good girl,” he praises. “Knew nobody could fuck you like me, right? Nobody could treat you as good?”

You flush, setting your drink down and hopping up onto the counter, crossing your legs behind his back as he crowds into your space. “No, Daddy. Only you, I promise.”

Matty cups your jaw. “That’s right, princess. All mine. And I’m yours,” he says, cupping your jaw and connecting your lips in a searing kiss, drinking in the taste of you as you pour your emotions into his mouth. “So perfect, such a perfect girl for me,” he says, sucking a bruise into your skin and working his way down. He presses kisses over your tits, one hand coming up to play with a peaked bud as he wraps his lips around the other. You whine, arching your back and pushing against his attentions, a low buzz of pleasure growing in the back of your skull. “Love these tits so much, baby. So fucking perfect,” he murmurs against your skin, pressing a kiss in the valley of your breasts and tracing his fingers down, your muscles tensing at his touch. Desire whirls in your stomach, your head light and skin loose on your bones. He drops to his knees on the cool tile floor, kissing your knees as he spreads your legs wider, eyes blowing impossibly wider at the sight of your dripping cunt. “God, made such a mess of you, huh, princess? Want Daddy to get you cleaned up?”

“Please,” you gasp, threading a hand in his curls as he kisses the tender skin of your inner thigh. “Daddy, please. Want your mouth,” you whimper, moaning when his lips meet your slick skin. The pressure between your thighs is instant and familiar, mounting as Matty laps at your folds. He pulls off to bite at your thighs, scraping over his own fading bruises, faint pain tangling with pleasure under your overheated skin. His tongue is hungry as it fucks into you, his moans vibrating gloriously through you as you cling to the counter for dear life.

Your hips grind against his face, euphoria spiralling through you, stoking the fire low in your belly. “That’s it, princess. Gonna help Daddy get you off? My pretty little cockdrunk slut, need it all the time, right?” he murmurs, rubbing circles into your clit as he buries his tongue back into you. You can’t fucking think, everything in your brain drowned out by lips, tongue, teeth, Matty.

“Fuck, yes, Daddy, feels s’fucking good,” you whine, burying your hand in his curls and dragging him even closer, his tongue impossibly deep inside you as you clench around the muscle. Heat unspools in your belly, licking under your skin and setting your blood on fire, your hips rocking unbidden against his mouth. You cry out as Matty wraps his lips around your clit, pleasure-pain screaming from your still-sensitive nerves, all his attention focused on your swollen bud. “Oh, my God, oh, my God, oh, my God,” you gasp, pulse jackhammering between your thighs, so fast you’re scared it’ll set off dynamite in your chest.

“Yeah?” Matty smirks up at you, his lips and chin soaked in your arousal. You’re close, embarrassingly so, his tongue sloppy and greedy as he devours your cunt. His quiet moans into your cunt are intensely gratifying, amplifying the ecstasy kicking wildly under your skin. “God, you’re so pretty fallin’ apart like this. Could live between these pretty thighs, princess.” In response, you tighten them around his head, savouring his little gasp as his tongue returns to your cunt, licking over your hole with fervour. Your eyes roll back in your head, swimming dizzily in ecstasy, your cunt throbbing with need.

Your entire body is tense, muscles clenched and expectant as Matty tongue-fucks you within an inch of your life. “M’so close, Daddy, wanna cum,” you whimper, chasing the pleasure that coils tight around your veins, your vision blurring as euphoria chokes you.

Matty circles his fingers over your clit, his callouses scraping deliciously over your tender skin. “Cum for me whenever you’re ready, princess. Wanna feel you fallin’ apart on my tongue. Sweetest fuckin’ girl in the world,” he murmurs, pulling your clit into his mouth and sucking hard, a scream tearing free from your throat. Molten desire pools in your belly, your body humming with energy begging to be released. “Come on, darling, let me hear you. Give me everything you’ve got,” he moans, your cunt dripping on his tongue.

“Oh, fuck, m’cumming, Daddy, fuck! Oh, God, feels s’good, fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whimper, pure pleasure breaking you wide open, your vision whiting out as Matty’s tongue curls deep inside of you. You throb around him, every muscle in your body suddenly jelly, his hands on your thighs the only thing anchoring you to reality. Matty gets to his feet with a smirk, wordlessly prising your jaw open and sliding his wet fingers into your mouth.

You wrap your fingers around his tongue, sucking and licking the taste of you off his skin and moaning softly. “Good girl. You look so fucking gorgeous when you cum, princess.” He catches your lips in a messy kiss, your slick on his tongue as it sweeps your mouth, his hands finding your hips and pulling you close. “You up for a little day out, angel? Wanna show off my pretty girl, make everyone jealous of me.”

You giggle. “I told you. Anything you want. If you want to bend me over and show the entire fucking world who I belong to, I’ll drop my panties right then and there, promise.”

Matty’s jaw clenches, nails digging into your hips. “Don’t want anyone else seeing you like that, ever,” he growls. “C’mon, princess, go and get dressed. Got a busy day planned,” he grins.

“When did you have time to plan a day out?” you scoff, hopping to your feet and heading back up the stairs.

“Wanted to take you out and ask you to be my girlfriend, but that part got wrecked. I still wanna spoil you, baby.” He wraps an arm around your waist and presses a kiss into your hair.

You melt into his touch, leaning into him with a soft, private smile. “You’re too sweet,” you say, pulling away from him to step into your discarded underwear and jeans, turning to rifle through his drawers. After a few moments, you find what you were looking for, a shirt that must be a remnant of some distant, misspent youth; so small it’s almost your size, and it must have been cropped short on him because it barely brushes the hem of your jeans. “Did you actually wear this?” you laugh, turning this way and that as you admire how surprisingly well the shirt flatters you.

Matty laughs. “Told you, I was in a band in my twenties. Made some questionable fashion choices, but I made it work.”

Your eyes light up. “You have to show me. Please, I have got to see what you looked like when you fit into this,” you plead, and he scoffs.

“Nah. Looks better on you, anyway,” he says, sliding a pair of sunglasses over your eyes and kissing your cheek, brushing a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “Have you got a jacket? It’s fucking cold, for June,” he comments, a poor attempt at sounding casual.

It’s not that cold, and he knows damn well you don’t have a jacket. “Hmm, nope.” You pop the ‘p’ obnoxiously. “Guess I’ll have to borrow one of yours,” you say airily, as if that wasn’t his obvious fucking game all along. He slides a leather jacket over your shoulders, well-worn and smelling like him, and your reflection stops you dead. You look fucking hot. You look like a rich man’s scandalously young girlfriend, the graceful lines of him slotting perfectly into the picture. You snap a sweet photo of the two of you as he kisses your temple, and you giggle up at him.

“God, never gonna get over how gorgeous you look wearin’ my clothes, darling,” he murmurs, giving your ass a little smack and hurrying you into the car. His hand is familiar on your thigh as he drives, the warmth of his touch soaking into your skin and fizzing up in your chest. He presses kisses to your cheek at every red light, his gaze adoring every time it lands on you.

You share a lazy, light breakfast, trading kisses over pastries and coffee; yours heaped with cream and sugar and his bitter and black. Matty listens as you explain your friends’ petty little dramas, nodding or frowning at all the right moments but wise enough not to weigh in. He presses you against the car when you leave, digging one hand into your hair and the other into your waist and kissing the sugary-almond taste out of your mouth. “Pretty girl,” he praises, smiling as you flush.

“Sweet boy,” you murmur, kissing his nose as he pulls back and opens the passenger-side door for you. “Such a gentleman,” you giggle, sliding into your seat. You fiddle with the radio, turning to him expectantly when the car stays in park. “Thought you had the whole day planned out?”

“I do,” he grins. “Just waitin’ for you to tell me where you like to shop, angel.”

You smile, rattling off a list that comes as easily as breathing. “Are you gonna take me shopping?” you giggle as the engine purrs to life. “Won’t you get bored?”

“Nah,” he shrugs, reversing out of the car park. “I’ll be like the male lead in a romcom, carrying all your bags and following you like a lost puppy. It’ll be well funny,” he chuckles, and you can’t help but laugh, the image of him laden with shopping he’s paying for and wandering around a boutique looking slightly mystified frankly adorable.

“You’d make a good movie star. Just about pretty enough.” Matty gives an offended scoff and lights a cigarette, sulkily facing away from you as he takes a drag. An old favourite song crackles through the radio and you sing along, uninhibited and happy and maybe even a little in love.

Matty smiles at you indulgently as you start flipping through clothing racks, running your fingers through the fabric and musing which pieces already in your closet they’d pair well with. You pull out a pretty little summer dress, white and lacy with pink florals, and hold it up without looking at the price tag. “What do you think?” you grin, watching him picture you wearing it with a sleazy smile.

“If you want it, it’s yours,” he shrugs. “Go wild, princess.” Not one to look a gift horse, you take him at his word, draping the dress over your arm and fluttering off to flip through the skirts. A scandalously short leather mini catches your eye, and you hold it against your hips thoughtfully.

Matty’s jaw tightens unsubtly. “Oh, don’t be such a boy,” you tease. “I’ll model it for you later,” you add with a grin, and his hands fly to your waist and pull you in.

“Please don’t get me all worked up, sweetheart,” he pleads against your lips. “Don’t wanna have to cut this short because I had to bring you home and take what I need from you, do you?”

Your insides melt into liquid and you flush, heat slick under your skin. “Tempting,” you smirk. “Later tonight?”

His eyes darken, sparkling with allure. “I’m counting the minutes,” he murmurs against your lips, taking an inappropriately greedy handful of your ass and pressing his lips against yours.

Your knees go weak when Matty licks into your mouth, his tongue hedonistic and clever and sure. You indulge yourself in his kiss for a few moments, his body pressing against yours as he threads a hand into your hair. “Mmh, stop trying to distract me,” you say, voice slightly rough with desire. “I’m gonna bleed you dry, darling.”

Matty grins. “Do your worst, angel.”

And you certainly try your fucking hardest, piling his arms high with blouses and dresses and skirts; lipsticks and powders and creams; pumps and heels and sandals. When Matty starts dragging his feet, you take pity on him and pull him into the lingerie section, his jaw going slightly slack as he stares around; he looks vaguely guilty, like he’s been caught somewhere he shouldn’t.

You pluck a delicate, white corset off the rack, holding it up musingly. “How about this? Might be cute with one of those skirts?” Matty swallows thickly, clearly stuck for words that won’t get the pair of you banned from the store and maybe arrested for lewd behaviour.

“I like it.” He clears his throat. “A lot.”

You grin mischievously. “I have an idea, Daddy,” you murmur, the word a delicious taboo as it slips from your lips, scandalously inappropriate on the wide-open shop floor. “Should get yourself some presents, too. Pick some stuff out for me?”

A filthy smirk splits his face, and you shiver, a thrill running up your spine. Matty, it turns out, has extremely discerning tastes, at least when it comes to lingerie. Everything he chooses is carefully considered, holding the lace against your skin to consider the colour, the shape, the cut of the piece and how it’ll sit on your body. You end up heaped with a pile of bras and panties, corsets and teddies, babydoll dresses and chemises, slightly dizzy at the thought of dressing up in them for him.

“Think that’s more than enough to keep us both happy, don’t you, princess?” he grins, leading you to the counter. It takes aeons to get you rung up, and you feel a little faint at the sight of the total; it’s more than five thousand pounds. Matty doesn’t even look fazed, though, kissing you softly and swiping his card like it’s nothing. It’s maybe a little embarrassing, but you feel a faint tingle of arousal at him taking such a massive sum in stride.

You drape yourself across him as he loads your bags into the car, pressing grateful kisses anywhere you can reach. “Thank you, Daddy. Too good to me. Tell me how I can make it up to you.”

Matty smiles, wide and warm and so fucking sweet you can taste the honey dripping from his mouth. “Don’t need to, angel. Just let me spoil you. Like seein’ you happy after I was such a little bitch before. M’sorry, sweet girl.”

You laugh as you slide into the car beside him. “I’ve accepted worse apologies for worse things from far worse men. I think we’re more than even now.” You run your hand over his thigh, cupping his cock with a smirk. “How about I put on a little fashion show for you when we get back? Call it even when I can’t even remember my own name?”

He grins. “You are filthy,” he says delightedly, throwing on a burst of speed that pins you against the seat, suddenly desperate to get the pair of you into a bedroom.

Matty’s mouth is ravenous on yours as soon as you’re alone, dropping the bags to grip your waist hungrily and pull you flush against him. “Mmh, hold on,” you say, breaking away regretfully. “Don’t you wanna see me all dolled up for you, Daddy?”

Groaning, Matty slides his hands down to your waist, spanking you when you bend over to retrieve your bags. A pulse of wanton arousal throbs stickily between your legs, an involuntary moan rumbling from your lips. “Pretty little slut,” he mumbles approvingly. “Wanna get that pretty ass all red for me, god.”

“Yes, Daddy,” you murmur, straightening up and leaning back against him. “Anything you want.” He follows you up the stairs, making himself comfortable on the bed as you slip into the bathroom and change. You primp and preen, experimenting with lip swatches and sparkling eyeshadow, switching out your outfit until you’re satisfied.

Matty is waiting on the bed when you slip back into the room. The sight of him, his legs spread wide and clad only in boxers with one hand lazily palming his cock through the fabric, is almost enough to make you abandon your plans. “D’you like the skirt now, Daddy?” you ask, pulling the waistband down to reveal the scrap of deep-red satin clinging to your waist.

“Mmm, I don’t know if I’m quite convinced yet, princess,” he teases. “Think you should show me what it looks like off.”

A heavy pulse of want wells between your thighs, and you grin. “Let me put on a little show for you, first.” You cue up a carefully-curated playlist, swaying your hips in time with the beat and slowly peeling off your shirt. Matty’s breath catches at the sight of you, groaning low in his throat, the sound going straight to your cunt.

Turning and bending over right on cue, you shake your ass, flashing your panties under the skirt; Matty moans outright. “So gorgeous, princess. Gettin’ me so fucking hard, god,” he groans, and as you turn to face him, you’re treated to the sight of him freeing his cock, slowly pumping it and watching you intently. Your skirt slides to the floor as Matty fucks into his fist, delicious, gasping little moans tumbling from his lips. “Fuck, c’mere, please,” he pleads, gaze fixed on you as you stalk to the edge of the bed.

“Wanna sample the merchandise, huh?” you tease, straddling his lap and grinding down on his cock. Matty’s hands come up to your tits, palming and squeezing greedily as your head falls forward to meet his lips. You let him grope you for a few long, delicious minutes, his hands finding your hips, your waist, your ass and digging in. Then, you hop off his lap, and Matty whines. “I’ve still got more stuff to try on,” you grin, slipping away and changing into a sheer-white babydoll with a matching thong.

Matty chokes on air at the sight of you, and you smile angelically, kneeling at the foot of the bed. “God, gonna drive me crazy, darling. Need to fuck you so bad,” he groans, his cock flushed red and dripping as it disappears into his fist.

You giggle. “M’glad you picked this one, Daddy. D’you wanna know what I thought when I saw it?” He nods, dazed and practically drooling. “I thought, ‘That’s what I wanna wear around the house when I’m bein’ a good little housewife for my Daddy,’” you murmur, and Matty has a physical reaction, shuddering as his eyes go wide, the fantasy playing clear as day on his face.

“Fuck, princess,” he groans. “Angel. Darling. Sweet girl. Come here. Let me fuck you, please,” he begs, hips shifting needily as he pumps his cock.

Draping yourself over his lap, you smile blithely up at him. “You promised to spank me, Daddy,” you pout, and Matty gives a filthy smirk, tracing his fingers over your panties as you shudder and squirm.

“Such a filthy little slut, god,” he murmurs. “This sweet little ass is gonna look so pretty covered in my handprints, baby. Gonna remind you who you belong to every time you sit down, yeah?”

Arousal swirls through your body, wanton need dripping from your neglected cunt. “Belong to you, Daddy. Your girl— ah!” you gasp as Matty’s hand comes down, meeting your ass harshly. A long, low moan pulls from your throat, sweet pain tangling with the burning need under your skin. “Yes, Daddy, fuck. Please, more,” you whimper, face pressed against the sheets as you sink deeper into glorious submission. Three more smacks come in quick succession, the flesh of your ass flaming under his touch.

Matty kneads your tender skin gently, soothing before he delivers another hit, the pain washing over you and coiling into thick, palpable pleasure under your skin. “Love this pretty ass so much, princess,” he praises.

“Want you to fuck me there, one day,” you say dreamily, so lost in desire-slick fantasies that you don’t even process the admission as it falls from your lips. “Wanna be yours. Every single hole,” you murmur, eyes lidded and voice rough with lust. Matty freezes, and you tense. God, was that a weird thing to say? Too early to admit it? Is he gonna think you’re actually a slut now?

A moan of pure, unfiltered lust falls from his mouth and your thighs clench, the fabric of your panties soaked and sticky between your thighs. “Fuck, you can’t say things like that, princess. Gonna make me fuckin’ cum before I’ve even fucked you,” he murmurs, voice low and raked over gravel, thick with lust. His fingers tease over your clit through your panties, and you arch up into his touch, whimpering.

“Then fuck me,” you plead. “Please, Daddy. Want you.” Matty grins, manhandling you until you’re laying on your front, pleasure tense in your belly as he slides your panties to the side.

Your cunt clenches around nothing, gasping and pleading softly as the sheets dig into your cheek. “This okay, angel? Wanna watch the bruises come up on your pretty little ass.”

Lifting your hips, you shake your ass at him, a smirk pulling at your lips. “Gonna think about fucking it, Daddy?” He groans, the sound going straight to your core, slick cunt dripping as you press against him. “S’okay if you do. I have been. When I’m alone, when I want you, fucking myself on my fingers and thinkin’ about you stretching me out there. Would feel so fucking— Ohh,” you break into a moan as Matty enters you with no warning, meeting no resistance from your soaked cunt.

“So fucking wet for me, princess. So fucking filthy, playing with that needy cunt and thinkin’ about me fucking your ass, god,” he groans, dipping his head to kiss between your shoulder blades. A shudder runs through you, the stretch and burn between your thighs familiar, the ache soothing.

Your cunt throbs, thick pulses of arousal hammering in time with your racing heart. “Harder, Daddy, please,” you whine, arching your back. Dizzying lust envelops you, your head hazy and light, practically floating clear of your body. A shocked moan escapes you as Matty spanks you again, pain sinking into pleasure that coils tightly through your insides.

“Don’t be greedy, darling,” he chides. “C’mon, lift your hips a little for Daddy, okay?” Unthinkingly, you obey, letting him puppeteer you, mould you into whatever shape he likes. “Good girl,” he murmurs, sliding a pillow under your hips. You glow at the praise, nails scraping the sheets when he fucks deep into you, the change in angle sending waves of pleasure spilling over you.

“Ngh, Daddy, fuck,” you whimper, your words coming out garbled where your face presses into the sheets. Incoherent moans of please and fuck and I need and Daddy stumble from your lips, your body melting into a pleasure-soaked haze as Matty fucks deep into you.

Your hips meet obscenely, lewd sounds filling the room as your world narrows down to the four walls, aware of nothing but him. “That’s it, princess. Let it all out, let Daddy hear those pretty noises, yeah? Nobody else gets to hear you like this, right?” he coos, pinching your clit and moaning softly as your cunt clenches around him reflexively.

“N-no,” you promise shakily, struggling to pull the words to the forefront of your mind, delirious with pleasure. “Only you, Daddy. Only one who can fuck me like this. So fucking good.” You choke on a gasp, Matty’s hips meeting yours over and over, your vision swimming, your body set adrift in an ocean of sheer ecstasy.

“Such a sweet girl,” Matty murmurs, teasing your clit as you whine powerlessly. Seemingly just for the fun of it, he slaps your ass again, the sweet sting tearing you open. Pleasure rushes through you, cradling your very organs, stoking a fire that chars your bones. “God, I love your pretty ass, darling. Can’t wait to fuck this tight little hole.” His words sink into your skin, wrapping tight around your sore muscles, ecstasy coiling in your veins. With what feels like a monumental effort, you rock your hips up towards him, Matty impossibly deep inside you.

The tip of his cock brushes that perfect spot inside you, sending a bright jolt of pure euphoria fizzing up your spine. A keening wail falls from your lips, a loud, uninhibited sound of undiluted pleasure. “Gettin’ close, angel? Wanna cum for your Daddy?” You nod wildly, indistinct, stifled pleas tumbling from your lips like prayers. “Go on, princess, cum for me. Cum all over my fuckin’ cock, make me cum.” In that same obedient, thoughtless way, you do. You choke and whimper and whine, drool pooling in your mouth and dripping out against the sheets as you moan the only word you know: Daddy. Euphoria burns white-hot under your skin, melting your organs until your body is made of liquid desire, messily strung together by flimsy ligaments. Matty’s touch is the only thing anchoring you to reality, your head still hazy as you drift back to Earth.

Matty’s pace is erratic, frenzied and wild and hot as your cunt pulses with aftershocks. “Cum on me,” you beg. “On my cunt, on my tits, on my face, I don't care. Just wanna see it, wanna feel it, want you to mark me, make me yours,” you plead, and Matty groans. He gives your ass one more swift smack for good measure and flips you over, your bruised skin screaming in protest as it presses into the sheets. Three quick passes of his fist over his cock and he’s cumming, white ropes splashing across your belly and up to your tits, painting your skin in a filthy, lurid display. “Thank you, Daddy,” you murmur as he breathes heavily above you. “Love bein’ your little cumdump.”

His head tips back, a disbelieving laugh bubbling free. “Such a good, sweet, pretty girl with such a filthy mouth, princess. So fuckin’ hot.” You smile proudly, dragging your fingers through his mess and sucking the taste of him off them. Matty’s eyes go wide, his head falling to lap at the skin between your tits, kissing and sucking ravenously at them. He makes his way up and presses his lips to yours, the taste of him smearing between your mouths, the kiss a filthy thing, alive with desire. “You’re beautiful,” he mumbles, hushed like he isn’t even aware of the words, and you flush.

“So are you,” you smile as he falls next to you, gazing adoringly into your eyes as your chests heave.

“We should get cleaned up,” he says with a weak chuckle, and you mumble an affirmative without even pretending to move. “Just a minute, princess, then I’ll get you cleaned up, cook us some dinner, yeah?” he promises, kissing you gently as your eyes flutter closed. Of course, the pair of you wake an hour or so later, dried cum on your belly and crusting into your brand-new lingerie, your thighs uncomfortably wet and sticking. Matty carries you into the bath, takes gentle care of you, the promised meal waiting when you pull yourself out of the now-lukewarm water. Pillar candles glow atop the dining table, the light sparkling off your wine glasses, and your heart melts.

It doesn’t take long for you to fall deeply, irrevocably in love with him; every passing day reveals something new to adore. The words spring to your lips at any and all moments, both opportune and not, and it starts to become a real struggle to swallow them back down. You don’t want to be too much, too soon, and truthfully you’re scared of what his answer will be, and even more so of how you’ll react.

Your private-not-secret relationship is your so-called friends’ favourite topic of discussion, so much so that you’re afraid it’ll get back to your parents before you’re ready for them to know. You try to keep them happy with minor tidbits, throw them off with misdirections (yes, he’s older; no, I won’t tell you by how much; no, my parents don’t know him), but their endless reserves of intrusion are starting to wear you down. Thea is your only confidante, the only one besides Matty himself who knows the ins and outs, and you’re fucking dying for someone new to brag and gush to. So when Matty texts you one day in mid-August, asking if you want to meet his friends, you jump at the chance.

My friends are absolutely desperate to meet you, by the way

Insist they have to meet this girl I won’t shut up about

I’ve been told to tell you Emerald Hill at 10pm on Saturday, and not to take no for an answer

If that tells you what kind of a bunch they are, fair warning

i’d love to :)

come pick me up at 8? then we’ll have time to get presentable before we have to go ;)

By the time Saturday rolls around, you’re practically fizzing with excitement, much to your parents’ suspicion — they’ve been sceptical all summer of how happy you’ve been, curious glances and pursed lips every time you so much as smile at your phone. The excitement has turned to nerves as you’re leaving Matty’s, though, roiling in your gut as you obsess over every detail that could go wrong. Matty wraps comforting arms around your waist from behind, kissing the top of your head and holding you close, the thump of his heartbeat at your back soothing. “Stop worryin’ so much, love. S’gonna be fine, okay?” He gives a boyish little grin as he opens the car for you. “Can’t wait for you to meet my boys. All my favourite people in one place,” he says, and you smile softly, that warm, fizzing affection you don’t want to give a name to creeping up your chest.

Matty lets you choose the music as you drive, shaking his head every time you queue up another glitter-gel-pen pop song. He takes your hand and leads you into the bar, a classy little place tucked into a street corner, his eyes lighting up as he catches sight of whoever you’re here to meet, swallowed into a bear hug by a tall blond when he reaches the table.

“Ah, mate, it’s been too long,” the other man says, pulling back and offering you a hand. “George.”

You look up into his face and your jaw drops. The hot DJ from that fateful night at 102 grins down at you, and your eyes widen as you try to take back your composure. Swallowing your tongue, you smile and give your name, taking a seat as Matty pulls a chair out for you. Just as you’re getting over that shock, you lock eyes with Charli and she smirks back at you.

“Sunshine Baby!” she exclaims. “Fancy seeing you here.”

You laugh, the tension in your shoulders loosening at the merest semblance of familiarity. “How do you remember that?” you laugh disbelievingly.

“Wait, you two know each other?” Matty interrupts.

Charli shrugs. “Sort of. Sunshine over here racked up a three hundred quid tab and tipped me a hundred on top. Don’t forget that in a hurry.”

You cover your face in embarrassment. “That makes me sound like an alcoholic,” you groan. “Your fault, by the way.” You poke Matty’s shoulder affectionately. “I was mad at you, practically fucking bought out the bar about it. Entire place got a free drink off me.”

“I like her,” another member of the group chimes in with a laugh. You look up to meet the eyes of the speaker, and– Jesus. One group of friends shouldn’t be allowed to have this many hot people in it. “Ross,” he says, and you smile politely. The last member of the party introduces himself as Adam, and you greet him with a smile, letting yourself get absorbed into rapid conversation and raucous laughter. “Right,” Ross interrupts. “Matty — you’re picking up the tab,” he declares. “Oh, don’t make that face,” he says as Matty scoffs. “Amount you drink, I’m not paying it on a teacher’s salary.”

You giggle. “Aw, give him a break. These days, I’m spending his money faster than he can make it,” you joke, and Charli cackles. You’re pleasantly tipsy, the alcohol loosening your lips and lifting the weight of anxiety in your chest, conversation flowing between you as easily as the wine in your glass. You cling to Matty as you leave, waving cheerful goodbyes and promising to text Charli to arrange a girls’ night.

“I’m gonna regret introducing you two, aren’t I?” Matty sighs, pulling you in close against the unseasonably cold wind, the warmth of his body soothing.

“No,” you giggle. “I love her. Wish I had friends like yours,” you say, wistful and slightly self-pitying as you slide into the car.

Matty cups your cheek, leaning in across the console to press a tender, loving kiss against your lips. “I’m sorry, baby. But you have me. Always gonna have me, yeah?”

Your heart flutters, those three little words rising in your throat once again. “I guess you’re a pretty good consolation prize,” you tease, pushing down the frightening intimacy of the moment with levity.

“Alright, alright,” he chuckles. “Wanna come back with me? Or do you want me to drop you home?”

You scoff. “Is that even a question?”

The rest of your summer passes quickly, too quickly. You spend more time at Matty’s house than home, more and more of your things finding their place there as time passes. You start going to visit him at work without any other justification, every step nerve-wracking as your father’s presence looms. You have one unbelievably close call when he’s in the lobby as you’re leaving, frantically slamming the door close button in the lift before he can turn and spot you. Ruby stays just as hostile, seething at you and muttering warnings that Matty’ll be bored soon every time you pass her by. You take a petty, savage pleasure in tormenting her, just a little, deliberately pulling Matty in for long, filthy kisses as you open his office door.

By the time you can’t put off going back to uni any longer, there’s barely any point in you being home at all. Naturally, Matty offers to be the one to drive you up, and you seize the opportunity to be alone with him for the last time in however fucking long. Your father is privately relieved not to be the one to have to, you can tell, accepting your explanation that Thea’s just passed her test and she’s offered to drive me. You don’t mind, do you? without question. Shows how much he knows; Thea’s failed her practical six times and counting.

When you arrive, Matty insists that you don’t lift a finger, carrying all of your boxes upstairs and giving you something to ogle in the process. You’re the last one back, your housemates smirking at you and nudging each other at the sight of him, fourteen years your senior with grey in his hair, kissing you filthy and unashamed in plain view. Later, you mouth behind his back, their answering giggles reminding you that you do have good friends, after all.

Matty looks devastatingly gorgeous in the late-autumn sunset, leaning against his car with a cigarette dangling from his lips. You snatch it with a smirk, stretching up to peck his lips and taking a deep drag. His smile melts you into goo, your heart hammering so fast it might smash free of your ribcage. If you don’t say it now, you’ll lose your nerve.

“I love you,” you rush out, muffled against his chest as he holds you, arms cradling your body tight and warm and safe. “You don’t have to say it back, I just… I do, and I want you to know.”

Matty pulls back to look at you, eyes soft with affection and adoration and maybe even something deeper. “Do you know how long I’ve been waitin’ to hear you say that, princess? God, I love you. I love you so fuckin’ much,” he groans, his hands at your waist the only thing keeping you upright as your knees go weak. “Think I might die, havin’ to be without you these next few weeks.” You giggle, giddy with infatuation and devotion and… God, you can just say love, now. “I’ll be back soon, don’t worry. Could never stay away from you.”

#OH. MY. GOD.#YOU ABSOLUTE INCREDIBLE GENIUS #THIS IS EVERYTHING AND EVERYTHING AND EVERYTHING #HOLY FUCK #yeah this is INSANE ur so fucking insane holy fucking shit #i love them so bad #prof matty fly high miss u king #!!!!!!???!!??!!!AAHHHH #recs

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grocerystorelist · 10 hours

Text

guys you need to help me manifest pls

alternatively, @trumanblackblog if you don’t feel like having a lot of hair on your head atm we can also go for

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grocerystorelist · 1 day

Note

U da best

oh thanks☺️☺️

#asks

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grocerystorelist · 2 days

Note

omg 7 & 17 please I would die

“louder, they need to hear who can get you like this”

"if you want to come, you better beg"

warnings: (18+ mdni)

george finds matty sat at their table, nursing the last of a bottle of red wine as another boringly predictable award show passes him by.

his eyes are fixed on you across the room, your dress and jewellery and eyes glittering in the lights as you’re pulled from conversation to conversation, photographers singling you out for shots and a never ending supply of champagne flutes constantly occupying your manicured hand.

“she still giving you the silent treatment?” george asks, hand coming down on matty’s shoulder with a reassuring squeeze.

“is it that obvious?” he doesn’t even look at his best friend as he replies, just stares at the remnants of the wine in the bottom of his glass before knocking it back.

“this might seem obvious but, have you tried just apologising to her?”

matty scoffs, sloshing more wine into his now empty glass. “why the fuck should i be the one to apologise? she’s the one that came here with someone else.”

“right, but we all know she wouldn’t have if you’d grown a pair and asked her to come with you.”

“it’s not like that. we’re not like that. it’s nothing serious, neither of us have the fucking time, g.”

“then why are you so fucked off that she’s here with someone else?”

“because to me, there’s a difference between not coming together and coming with someone else.”

george nods, swirling the last of the liquor in his glass before downing it.

“great. now tell her that.”

matty’s gaze lifts from his glass to see you coming towards him and he sinks back in his seat, not sure which way this was about to go.

“can i help you?” you ask bluntly, hands gripping the back of the seat opposite him, but he just raises his brows as if waiting for you to elaborate.

“you’ve been burning a hole into the side of my head for the last 20 minutes.”

“don’t know what you’re talking about.” he replies with a shrug and another gulp of wine.

“matty, c’mon. we need to talk about thi—“

you’re cut off by the dimming of the lights, and everyone shuffles back to their seats as the introductory music starts to play. your table is all the way across the room, you’d never make it back across in the dark before the next presentation begins. before you have time to think, matty is pulling on your wrist until your sat in the seat next to him.

you shoot him a pointed look, but secretly you’re grateful for the solution to your predicament. it’s also a nice confirmation that the seat where his plus one should be is empty.

“just until the next intermission.” you concede, crossing your legs and beginning to clap as the next round of presenters take to the stage.

two or three awards are presented - you’re not sure which ones or even who wins them because you’re so preoccupied with matty’s gaze burning into you. you begin to feel flushed, heat climbing up your chest and coloring your cheeks until you’re pulling your hair over one shoulder to let some cool air reach your neck. it’s an added bonus that you know the action has matty shifting in his chair.

someone passes behind you both, a waiter maybe or someone heading to the toilet, and matty has to scoot his chair in closer to the table to make space. as he does, his leg presses up against yours and his arm falls across the back of your chair.

you try to ignore the flutter that the proximity causes, but when his fingers start mindlessly playing with the ends of your hair, you find yourself leaning back into your seat and closer to him.

it had been unintentional on his part at first, just force of habit, but once he sees you relaxing into him, he decides he has a point to prove. his fingertips drop from your hair and begin traces patterns on your upper arm, back and forth motions that cause a scattering of goosebumps along your skin. next thing you know, he has a finger hooked under the strap of your dress, tugging gently until it’s almost slipping from your shoulder. you straighten suddenly in your seat and it causes matty’s hand to drop, gliding down your back before he rests it on your thigh.

“what are you doing?” you whisper through your teeth, refusing to turn to face him.

“hm?” he mumbles as though he can’t hear you, but you can hear the smug grin in his voice.

“behave.” you whisper again, slightly louder as your hand comes down on his that’s now sliding up your leg. matty leans closer to your ear, slipping his hand from beneath yours to rest on top as he puppeteers your hand to the inside of your thigh, beneath the silky material of your dress.

you bite down on your lip to suppress a gasp, and when you turn to face him, your lips are basically brushing from the closeness.

“why? thought you liked it when i was bad?” his hand slides yours higher again, knuckles brushing lace and your eyes flutter shut as his lips drop to ghost against your bare shoulder when he speaks. “good guys bore you, darlin’. that’s the real reason you’re sitting here with me and not over there with him.”

he kisses your shoulder like it’s proof, nuzzling into the exposed crook of your neck until you’re flushed and breathing out his name like prayer. next thing you know, his hand is wrapped around your wrist and your being pulled from your seat and out the nearest exist.

the auditorium door swings closed behind you both, and you have to gather your dress in your hands to stop from tripping on it as matty hurries you along the corridor.

“where are we—“ you begin to ask, before you’re being hauled through a door labelled “talent dressing room”.

you assume matty (the band) is the talent in this scenario.

your back is against the door as soon as it’s closed, matty’s leg finding its way between yours as you gasp at the friction.

“i— fuck, that feels good.” you breathe, hands pulling at the lapels of his suit jacket to keep you steady.

“yeah? always does, doesn’t it?” he asks and you know it’s rhetorical from the way he shifts against you. “didn’t stop you showing up here with someone else though.”

suddenly he moves his leg away as quick as he’d put it there.

“matty, c’mon. we’re not… anything, really? we have sex - great sex - but you can’t seriously be bothered about this.“

“i’m not bothered.”

you scoff. “really? ‘cause you look pretty bother—“

he cuts off your reply with his mouth on yours, hard and possessive and if you weren’t already wet from the way he’d been teasing you at the table, this kiss would do it.

his tongue is pushing at the seam of your lips that you stubbornly refuse part for him, wanting to make him work for it just a little. however, when he slides his leg back between yours and grips you hip, working you down against him, you’re a goner.

you moan, and the sound has matty growing harder against your thigh as his tongue licks in your mouth. you’re pulling at the buttons of his shirt now, tie discarded long ago as he shrugs his jacket off his shoulders and onto the ground.

“matty, fuck,” you breathe into his mouth, and he swallows your plea with a grin. his grip on your hip is bruising as he ruts you down against him, and he can feel how wet you’re getting against him.

“you know you’re wasting your time with anyone else, right darlin’?” he asks as he drags his mouth from yours to allow you a breath, mouthing along your jaw and down your neck. “no one else makes you feel this good, do they?”

you can’t speak so you just shake your head, finally undoing the last of his buttons and pulling his shirt off.

“matty, please?” you whine, dragging your hips against him until your eyes are rolling.

“please what? what d’you want?” he asks, his stubble scratching at your skin as he drags his mouth back to yours.

“want to come.” you answer honestly, mind too hazy to keep up any pretenses. you nip at his lip with another roll of your hips, and matty smirks.

“baby, if you want to come, you better beg.”

you groan in frustration, nails biting into his bare back as you try to pull him even closer, even though he has you pinned to the wall already.

“i can’t. i can’t think, i just— i need you to make me come. so badly, please, baby.”

your hips are incessant against his leg, so he pulls it away again just to hear to you sob.

“matty, please—“

“you showed up here with someone else right in front of my fucking face, baby.” matty interrupts, lips brushing the shell of your ear as if he’s telling you a secret. “you’re gonna have to beg better than that if you don’t want me to send you back to him dripping and dying for an orgasm he could never fucking give you.”

“i— fuck. okay. you fucking win, alright? i’m begging, matty, please. i need to come so fucking bad. you’re the only one who can give it to me. please, just fuck me.”

“good girl. that wasn’t so hard was it?”

you shake your head, desperate to please him.

“i’m always good for you. only you.”

you pull your hands from where they’ve been grasping at his bare back and chest and shoulders to fumble with his belt, the friction of his thigh no longer enough to satisfy the needy ache between your legs.

you need him inside of you.

“you are. so fucking good for me.”

your head is swimming with the praise and the pleasure and you’re sure you’ll collapse when matty captures your mouth for another messy kiss, his hands sliding up under your dress to drag your underwear down your thighs. they land around your ankles and you kick them off to land somewhere near matty’s shirt and jacket, free now to hike your leg up against his hip.

he helps you undo his buttons and zip, your hands trembling with anticipation as you free him from his trousers and boxers, sliding him though your wetness.

“oh my god,” you moan, head thrown back as his tip bumps your clit and like gasoline to a match, your whole body lights up. you throw a hand over your mouth when he finally lines up and pushes in, desperately trying to keep quiet.

“louder.” matty states, fingers bruising your thigh that he’s holding up wide against his hip, hitting that spot inside you that has you seeing white.

“i- what? i can’t. matty, someone will hear us.”

“good. louder.” he counters, using his free hand to pin yours above your head and away from your mouth.

you can’t help the moan that escapes you when he pulls practically all the way out and then slides back in, sucking the skin of your neck in time with his thrusts.

“oh my fuckin god, matty! yeah, yeah, yeah. right there—“

“louder, they need to hear who can get you like this.”

“you. it’s you. it’s always you, fuck! i’m—“

“yeah? you gonna go back to your table and sit with your date knowing my cum is dripping out of you?”

“jesus, fuck. yeah. if that’s what you want, i’ll do it. please, i’m so close, don’t stop.”

matty’s hips are frantic against yours as he steals another kiss from your parted lips, panting against you until you’re both breathing nothing but each other. you bite down on his bottom lip, tugging at it for good measure before soothing it with a kiss and dropping your mouth to his neck. you’re clawing at him desperately, breathing his name into his ear as he slides your dress straps down until your tits are spilling out. he’s pawing at your ass and your thighs, hand skimming up your sides until he he has a handful your tits, rough thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples.

your head thumps back against the wall as you scream his name, closer and closer to the edge with every thrust. you feel him twitch inside you and you know he’s about to cum.

“you gonna come for me, baby? want me to be a good girl and take it all?”

“fuck, yeah. gonna give it to you, baby, you want that?”

your jaw goes slack as you gasp out a yes and matty speeds up, hand dropping to swipe messily at your clit and the feeling of you coming around him sends him over the edge.

you scream his name, lash line wet and body spasming from pleasure as he holds you against him tightly, filling you up - praise and kisses pressed to your lips as you take hold of his face in your hands, glassy eyes landing on each other as you grin.

“that loud enough for you?”

#oh Yes #oh my fuvking god #this is crazy #recs

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grocerystorelist · 3 days

Text

Cigarettes & Wine | M. Healy | 2

'I think I'll put you in another song, a little glimpse of you before you're gone.'

In which Sadie and Matty can't seem to get along at all. They refuse to see eye-to-eye, but Sadie is starting to find Matty's annoyed face a bit too hot. When faced with conversations about feelings, Sadie can't help but want to run away from it all.

warnings: implied alcoholism, implied panic attack (not in a written scene), smut (unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering), lots of arguing, they both just spew shite at each other <3.

word count: 6.7k

authors note: lalalalala sadie matty smut lalalalala. so what it's angry (lowkey heartbreaking) smut, its still smut. i rlly had fun writing this and i am sorry for the angst <3 (not rlly x)

Sadie doesn’t think she’s ever felt anger like she’s feeling right now. The band had just gotten back to their flat after one of their more hectic shows, and George had obviously had the smart idea to go out after said show. Sadie missed out on this night out, feeling like her body was about to collapse inwards, but when the band returned home, loudly, she woke up and immediately seethed. Her anger worsened when she fully woke, she knew what was going on in Matty’s room due to them sharing a wall. Cheap flat means paper thin walls. As each day passes the urge to ask George to switch rooms with her grows.

The pornographic moans and groans paired with the bedframe that is just about banging her bedroom wall down is enough to make Sadie roll out of bed and leave her room with a huff. She almost regrets it when she sees Ross and George basically rolling on the kitchen floor trying to put a frozen pizza in the oven, Adam was standing over the pair just laughing at them. Sadie smirks but then when she hears another bang of Matty’s bedframe come from behind her she mutters a string of angry swear words under her breath. “What does she look like this time?” Is the sentence Sadie uses to make her presence known to the three drunk men in the kitchen.

The boys all look up at her with grimaces on their faces which makes Sadie run a hand down her own, she knows they all want to say “You.” Which makes her reconsider her entire career. She is subjecting herself to something comparable to torture day in, day out. Ever since Sadie had started point blank refusing him sex he was acting crazy, actively seeking out girls who have something in common with her looks wise. She had only started closing herself off because the band was starting to gain traction and she didn’t want anything to end in a messy enough manner for them both to risk their careers. It seemed like a lost cause with the way they were both acting though.

“It’s okay though, we’re having a pizza party.” Ross had somehow manoeuvred from the floor to Sadie’s side, leaning his entire body weight on her. She grunted and moved so the pair of them were leaning on the counter, she looked in his eyes at his extremely slurred words and wondered how he could be this drunk after only being out for two and a half hours. She shook her head with a smirk and snatched the pizza from George, forgetting how much of his weight that Ross was putting on her until he keeled over onto the floor with a giggle.

“Oh my god, Ross.” George pretty much collapses on top of Ross in a fit of drunken giggles and Sadie busies herself with setting the timer on the oven. When she turns around, Adam is stood with his arms open, and she smiles up at him and accepts his invitation for a cuddle. He starts swaying the pair and she can’t help but breathe out a laugh at the song he’s attempting to sing, Sadie has no idea what song he’s actually trying to sing. She tries to pull away when he starts swaying a bit too hard but before she knows it the four of them are on the floor struggling to breathe through their laughs.

When they all sit down on the couch to indulge in their pizza, Sadie hears a door open and close from the hallway. She can’t help the way her eyes roll into her skull, and she suddenly doesn’t want to finish her plate. The way he gets a glass of water, silently, pisses her off beyond belief. He grabs a slice of their pizza and heads back to his room with the water, he notices the silence when he walks in, but he chooses to not make a petty comment. When his bedroom door practically slams shut, Sadie lets out a breath she didn’t know she was even holding in. “George, can I sleep in your room?” He nods with a mouthful of pizza and Sadie heads to her room to grab her water bottle.

Sadie can’t sleep for George’s excessive snoring, he always fucking snores when he’s drunk. She gets up to fill her already empty water bottle with a sigh, a chill comes over her body when she opens the bedroom door, she immediately connects the dots when she sees Matty hanging out the living room window, cig in hand. She sighs and turns her back on him, flipping the tap to cold and turning it on, she hears him clearing his throat behind her and has to stifle the groan trying to escape her lips. “Bored of your girlfriend in there?”

Matty’s chuckle tastes bitter on his tongue, he despises her immaturity sometimes. When he doesn’t reply, she turns to him and when he gestures her over with his head she sighs, she can’t say no to him, and she loathes it. Sitting down next to him she takes his offer of a cigarette, he also forces the glass of wine he’s cradling into her hand, which she happily downs. He looks at her, she looks out the window. “Can’t sleep?”

“George won’t stop fucking snoring.” Matty smiles at that and hands her his lighter. She hands it back and inhales deeply when her cigarette is lit. The silence between them is the calmest silence they’ve sat in for at least three months, anytime the two have been forced in a room alone the tension has been so palpable you could cut it with a knife. Probably due to the fact they’ve not had sex in three months either. She can’t help but study his face, she hasn’t properly taken him in for a while, she tends to avoid him whenever they aren’t shouting at each other’s faces. He looks exhausted, the way his eyes are heavy set into his face and his mouth is nearly permanently in a frown are the telltale signs, this makes her frown. She leans onto his shoulder and lowers her voice to a whisper, “I’m sorry.”

“What? What for?” She shrugs and he wraps an arm around her shoulders, an attempt to protect her from the cold breeze wafting in through the open window. Hesitating slightly, he leans his head against hers, his lips meeting her messy hair before he does so. She sighs and shuffles a bit closer, having sat at a decent distance from him originally. “Nothing to be sorry for, Sades. I’m sorry.”

“Well, what are you sorry for?”

“I’m not sure either.” At his lack of attempt to actually apologise, she hums, nothing has changed. This conversation isn’t progress.

“I should go back to bed.” Sadie feels Matty’s head shake on top of hers and she snickers slightly, raising her head to face him. Their faces are much closer than they were before which makes Sadie’s heart pick up in pace ever so slightly. She pretends that it doesn’t though. He tries to sneak a glance down at her slightly dry lips, but her eager eyes notice, and she instinctively leans in, she swears she does it without realising. Before she knows it his lips are on hers and every argument they’ve had recently has flown out of her head, replaced by the way his hand feels when it falls to her bare thigh, practically coaxing the goosebumps out of her. Matty pulls away first and Sadie shakes her head. “We can’t. Shouldn’t.”

Silencing her with another kiss, a squeeze on her thigh, and his tongue against her lips, Matty groans into her mouth, begging to be let in. She denies him entrance until his other hand tugs lightly at her hair, drawing involuntary moans from her mouth, gaining him entrance. Readjusting so he’s no longer sitting cross legged on the windowsill Matty drags Sadie by the hips on to his lap. She feels so dirty, Matty had gone from being inside the girl in his bedroom two hours ago to making out with Sadie in the living room, but a sick part of her likes knowing that he’ll always come back to her. The same sick part of her grinds down into Matty’s growing erection, revelling in the way his head thumps against the window behind him. “Fuck, Sades.”

“Did that girl not do it for you? She might look like me, but I bet she doesn’t fuck like me, hmm?” Her hands find the seam of her pyjama top, but she quickly feels him swatting her hands away, wanting to take her top off himself. Doing so with fervour, his lips ghosting her nipples, blowing hot air over them and giving her reaction a sick smile. When his mouth closes around her nipple, a low groan ripples through her throat, she feels the need to get his clothes off of him as soon as possible. “Matty, please.”

“You’re filth. Desperate to fuck me when I’ve got a girl waiting for me.” Matty’s words hit Sadie right in her core, writhing on his lap, desperate for friction. The thin material of Matty’s boxers paired with the lacey material of Sadie’s panties was sending her wild, the feeling against her heat is delicious but she’s growing bored of it. He lifts his hips in a frenzy to rid himself of one of two clothing items keeping them apart, at the rapid friction Sadie moans loudly and squeezes her eyes closed. Letting out a dry laugh, Matty shifts her on his lap, her eyes cast down to his length and her hand automatically wrapped around it, like it was muscle memory. “No, need to be inside you. Won’t last long.”

Sadie feels like her lungs are being squeezed with how breathless she is, frantically shuffling her panties down her legs. Takes himself in one hand, Matty lines himself up and grabs one of Sadie’s hands with the other, she squeezes it as he pushes into her, a whine scraping the inside of her throat before tearing out of her mouth. Matty lets go of her hand and sticks two of his fingers into her open mouth, hissing at her, “You’ve got to be quiet, Sades.”

Whining around his fingers, Sadie bucks her hips into his harshly, Matty lets out a sound akin to a growl. She stops and raises an eyebrow at him, brutally shoving two fingers in his mouth. Feeling his mouth forming into a smirk around her fingers at her smug face, he starts fucking up into her to break her mean demeanour. The way her eyes roll into her head spurs him on, his pace relentless, his tongue licking up and down her fingers to match the pace of his savage thrusts. An urge to hear the noises that Matty clearly wants to make takes over Sadie’s brain, so she rips her fingers out of his mouth and sticks it on his knee behind her, leaning back in his lap to feel him hit her deeper inside. “Can fucking feel you squeezing me, so tight, missed this.”

The fake pout takes over her face without her permission, “Really meant it when you said you wouldn’t last long. Pathetic, I’m not even close.” She’s playing it up and he knows it from the way she tenses her thighs and squeezes his knee until her knuckles turn white. But Matty takes her words as the truth, holding himself off from finishing inside her, picking her up and throwing her onto the couch. Moaning at the way he man-handled her, Sadie can feel the loss of him inside her like he’d just ripped her arm from her torso, her blissed out face was quickly replaced by a glare at the two fingers re-entering her mouth, scowling as his hips snapped back into hers. When he leans down to give her neck an open-mouthed kiss, she snaps around his fingers, into his ear. “Fuck you.”

“I am.” The words uttered into her pliable skin make her arch her back into him. She hates the way he knows her body like he worships upon it everyday on the hour, almost as though he had studied her every atom under a microscope in a lab. Lifting one of her legs over his shoulder, she whimpers at the deeper angle, her walls flutter around him and she can feel the stutter of his hips. “Your filthy cunt is fucking sucking me in. You’re like some kind of witch. Come on, give it to me, Sades, fucking hell.” Staring down at the way a string of saliva connects her mouth to his fingers when he pulls them out at a tantalisingly slow pace gives him an idea. “Open your mouth.”

The compliant side of her does so immediately, moaning at the way his spit crawls down her tongue, he nods, she swallows. The wetness of his fingers immediately reaches between her folds and finds her clit, matching the pace of his persistent thrusts. Her left hand scrapes his spine and her right hand rips at his hair. She loathes the way his hands make her fold, feeling her climax take over her entire soul, her eyes squeezing shut at the feeling. “I fucking hate you so much.”

The tone in which she utters this word has him spilling inside her with a pained groan. The pair hold each other tightly as they both hit their peak, Sadie comes down almost immediately from the way Matty rides out his high inside her, she hisses from the overstimulation. “Fucking hell.” His body collapses on top of hers and she whines at the scraping feeling she feels inside. “Pull out, please.” A muttering of a few more swear words from her mouth pulls him from the cloud he’s found himself on, ripping himself from her. The boy inside of him peers down at the sight of his release spilling from her, she groans and steadies herself at the thought of standing up and cleaning herself up.

“Stay here. I’ll be right back.” Her eyes fixate on the torn up skin of his back as he pulls his boxers back on and sneaks into the bathroom. When he emerges, he smirks at Sadie’s sleeping figure on the couch, her deep-set eyes gently fluttering as she gives in, her dark eyelashes resting upon the cheeks. The one word ringing in his mind, beautiful, is giving him a headache. He rubs at her bare thigh in a soft attempt to wake her up, between whispers of different variants of her name. “Just cleaning you up, darling.” She gently whines and rolls over.

“Why are you asleep on the couch?” George is hanging over her like a bad smell, looking down at her with a raised eyebrow, she groans and pushes his face away with a stretch. The sudden memories of the previous night climb into her brain and start to take over, sneaking a glance down, she smirks at the sight of the cushions propped up gently and her clothes on her body. The slight bliss that was beginning to take over her being is interrupted by an unrecognisable, shrill laugh at the kitchen island. George silently communicates at her to keep her mouth shut.

“Morning, Sades! Bacon roll?” At Matty’s chipper tone, George knows all he needs to know, cradling his forehead in his hand. She snorts and sits up, finally getting a look at the girl who was clearly not good enough for Matty. Sadie would describe the girl as ��nice’, nothing more and nothing less. She looks nice. Matty doesn’t like nice. The other two boys are sat at the kitchen island too, stuffing bacon in their mouths like it’s going to make their hangovers magically disappear. Sadie circles round the couch to stand behind Ross, giving Matty a curt nod before sitting on the last spare seat, right next to this unknown girl.

“I’m Sadie. Who are you?” Adam covers his laugh with a cough, George groans into his hand, Ross is blissfully unaware, and Matty has to stop himself from whipping around to shout at the girl. The poor, innocent girl looks round at Sadie like she’d just shot her dog. A shit eating grin overtakes her mouth, smiling up at Matty as he places a bacon roll in front of her. “Thank you very much! Smells so good!” The tone of her voice makes Adam’s laugh finally escape his mouth, when Miss Unknown turns to him, brows furrowed, he panics.

“Oh, we have fun here.” Sadie opts for taking a bite so none of her laughter sneaks out. What a shit excuse, Adam.

“I’m Daisy, it’s, erm, nice to meet you?” No words. Sadie has no words. Daisy is basically Sadie rearranged. She politely nods at Daisy and turns to face forward in her seat, no longer wanting to interact with anyone. She feels a dull ache in her chest as she watches the way Matty talks to Daisy, a miniscule part of her brain is begging him to look at her. He doesn’t, instead turning back to the pan and humming a merry tune. Sadie is practically snarling at his back, knowing that her very nails have left marks on the hidden skin. That’s all it is. Hidden. Matty clearly has a sudden thought with the way his movements stop.

“Want any sauce, darling?” Sadie doesn’t know what happened, she’ll claim to have blacked out.

“No thanks, Matty.” Her eyes widen. Daisy nearly chokes on her breakfast, poor girl. As if on auto-pilot, Sadie’s feet drag her to her bedroom, completely abandoning her breakfast. She’s sure they all heard the scream she forced into her pillow.

The moon is the only thing lighting up Sadie’s room, the hopeful gleam staring right in her window. The Smashing Pumpkins ‘Oceania’ is humming into her ears as she edits a few photos from the night before, specifically avoiding the ones of Matty. A gentle knock on her door rips her from her daydream, pulling her eyes from the moon she murmurs a “Come in.”, shutting her laptop and turning round in her chair. But the sight of the man she’s avoiding draws a silent groan from her throat, she turns away.

“Hi. Can we talk?” He’s grovelling and she doesn’t know why. When met with silence he keeps talking. “We can’t keep dancing around this, it’s starting to hurt me. I can’t fucking look at you without wanting something from you, anything. I just want a sign of life, Sades.” She stares back out the window, wishing she lived in a house alone on the moon. But no, she’s here, face to face with everything wrong with her. All she knows how to do is shake her head.

“I don’t know what you want from me. I don’t have anything to say to you.” The way he takes a deep breath as he sits down on her bed makes her panic a bit, she knows that he’s about to hurt her feelings. It was just the honest truth, she didn’t have anything to say to him, what words could possibly come out of her mouth that he’d want to hear. Not a single thought in her head is something that should be said out loud to him.

“No, Sadie. What do you want from me? I am fucking sick of you, the sight of you, the way you’ll speak to the boys with no fucking malice in your tone, what did I do to you? And, what? Every two months you want me to fuck you and have it not mean anything? I can’t stand to be in your fucking presence everyday anymore, it’s draining me.” She zones out slightly, trying to will the lump in her throat to go away. Nothing that he had said warrants tears because he is also telling the honest truth.

“We’ve ruined it. Been friends eight years and fucking ruined it.” Shaking her head with a wet laugh she lets it fall to rest on her knee, a single tear slipping out. “Can’t believe there was a time we got on. Now you’re just horrible to me.” Bitter laughter takes over her ears and another tear falls. And another. Lifting her head she writes down the words, ‘wishing you could forget the present you’re living in’, in the notebook on her desk. The notebook is just full of shit, mostly angry shit, recently.

“You’re the horrible one. One day someone snapped their fingers and you turned on me. I can’t fuck around with you anymore, you’ve changed, and it makes me sick. To my stomach. And calling me horrible? Whatever.”

“You’re still talking if you weren’t aware.”

“Yes I was. Wasn’t done either.” Standing up and gesturing wildly, his bitter tongue still talks. She’s reduced to a pile of sobs on her desk chair, just watching, unable to make it stop. “I also find it quite frankly hilarious that you’re the first one to tell people that I’m the ‘worst person you’ve ever met’, it wasn’t that when we were shagging everyday four years ago.” Sadie sniffs a laugh at this, he’s contradicting himself by saying ‘she’s changed’ one second, then referencing a time Sadie actually liked him. “Oh! Another thing, telling George that I’m the only one you don’t say ‘I love you’ to is so strange. I’d like an explanation.” Walking over to her until he’s hanging over her, she has to look up and face his snarl. “Why? Why don’t you love me. I think you do and you’re just fucking scared of me, pathetic, by the way. I think you realised years-”

She interrupts him, unable to control the angry scream ripping from the depths of her lungs. “Stop! Just fucking stop! Get the fuck away from me.” He stills and cocks an eyebrow. “GO.”

A slam of a door and tears coming out in screams is all that’s heard through the flat.

The next time Matty’s on stage doing what he loves, he isn’t sure he actually loves it anymore. He’s considering hiring a new photographer. Sadie’s been dancing round his feet all night, apparently unable to take a single photo of Matty, she’s taken more photos of Adam tonight than she probably ever has. The way in which he is performing is growing slightly more aggressive, standing on the stage, seething, unable to do anything about it. Could you imagine what the crowd would think if he started shouting at his photographer mid-show?

She smirks as she comes round the back to take a couple photos of George, he shakes his head at her, and she lets out a laugh. Shrugging her shoulders as if she’s done nothing wrong, she quickly realises that coming onto the stage to take photos was a mistake, Matty turns his back on the crowd briefly and whispers in her ear, “What the fuck are you doing?”

“What? Nothing? My job.” Turning back to the crowd with a scoff he keeps singing, Sadie takes a couple photos of the view from the back of the stage, looking out into the mass of people, she smiles at her camera knowing it’ll be a good shot. Exiting the stage from the left hand side she takes a minute to look through a couple of the photos she’s taken as she sips from her water bottle. The events manager approaches her and smiles.

“Why aren’t you taking as many photos of Matty?” The way her sickly sweet voice punctures Sadie’s ears makes her cringe a little bit. But she hides it with a returned smile in her direction and turns her body slightly towards her. Taking in her professional outfit she hides a laugh, how she’s not sweating is one of the wonders of the world. The way she was very clearly flirting with Matty before the show had pissed her off and Sadie knew she was only asking because she wanted to see photos of Matty.

“Don’t worry about it.” Walking all the way to the back of the hall with no more words said, Sadie scoffs when she’s no longer in hearing distance. Shaking her head she snaps a few more pictures before heading back to the dressing rooms, hearing the band finish the show she busies herself with looking through photos. She likes to pretend she doesn’t exist after the boys finish a show, they also like to pretend she doesn’t exist, mostly high on adrenaline. Since people had started taking the band more seriously, the energy at their shows has increased tenfold. So has their egos but Sadie never makes comment on it. Hearing the stomps of Matty down the halls has her realising that pretending she doesn’t exist isn’t an option today.

“What the fuck was that? You’re embarrassing yourself.” Slamming the door behind him, leaving just the two of them in the dressing room, Sadie rolls her eyes. She watches on as he grabs a wine glass and pours from the bottle, he takes a sip and groans, shaking his head. When their eyes meet, Sadie curls into herself a bit, intimidated. “Just utterly pathetic.”

“What’s pathetic? Me not wanting to see your face? Did you forget the things you said to me? Or are you going to blame that as a ‘heat of the moment’ thing like you always do?” The slam of his glass on the table makes her jump and he turns to her with nothing but malice in his eyes.

“No, you should be able to hold a level of professionalism that allows you to do your job no matter how you actually feel, Sadie. You’ve always managed to photograph me even if I have been in the wrong, but not today. I’m calling you pathetic because I thought you were more mature than you actually are. Turns out I was fucking wrong, hmm?” Matty is leaning over her, pointing a finger down at her. She stands up to defend herself.

“Actually, I think that you speak to me like I’m a piece of shit on the bottom of your shoe and then expect me to carry myself professionally when in reality just the sight of your face makes me want to punch it. And oh, I’ll just carry on taking my silly little pictures and pretend you don’t come off that stage and hurt my feelings. Every. Single. Day.”

“Oh, I hurt your feelings? Fuck off, Sadie.” With this he leaves the dressing room and slams the door behind him so hard that Sadie sees the mirror on the wall shake a bit. She has to hold her laugh in when he comes back in for the bottle of wine. She really struggles to hold it back when George comes in and gives her a look like she’s dumb.

“What?” When George just laughs at her she laughs too. She grabs the second bottle of wine from the table and takes pleasure in drinking straight from it. “Genuinely what was I supposed to do? Let him keep treating me like this?” George leans onto her shoulder when he sits down, his voice is sympathetic, and Sadie is having none of it.

“You could’ve gone about it a bit nicer.”

“Why would I be ‘a bit nicer’ after all he’s done to me?”

“Yeah, you’re right, fuck him.” With that George takes the bottle and starts drinking from it too.

They’ve somehow ended up in a sleazy bar in Soho, they’d played just round the corner at some hall Sadie can’t remember to name. Matty’s still pissed, Sadie is very drunk, some would call this a recipe for disaster, George would call this a recipe for entertainment. Sadie has linked eyes with a notably cute guy a couple of times this evening, but she’s waiting for him to be the gentleman and make the first move to speak. As Adam stands up to get the next round she hears laughter from behind her and sees Matty flirting with some girl. She turns to Adam, “Get me a vodka shot, too.”

Adam really shouldn’t be encouraging her to drink anything that strong, but after clocking on to what Matty was doing he immediately adds it to the list of drinks he’s ordering. When it slides in front of her it’s down her throat practically before it’s even stopped sliding her direction. Ross grips her arm and laughs but she pays no mind to him, distracted by the bitter taste in her mouth, she’d be convinced the bitter taste wasn’t coming from the liquor. Eyeing the way Matty’s arm slings around the girl and his shoulders look slightly less tense she turns to search the crowd of people, looking for the guy who was eye-fucking her earlier. She leaps out the barstool when she sees him, throwing everything about wishing he was gentlemanly out the window. “Hi, I’m Sadie.”

“Theo, nice to meet you. I was gonna come over in a bit but here you are, like a dream in front of me.” Sadie laughs probably louder than she should’ve at this, hand coming down on his arm. At this Theo notices the lack of drink in her hand and rests a hand on her lower back, “Shall we go get you something to drink? On me, of course.” She lets him lead her back to all her friends, narrowly avoiding them as he leans over the bar to order her an espresso martini. She does not like espresso martinis.

“Thank you. I noticed your accent, Australian, right? What are you doing in England?” The small talk flows quite freely between the two as they exchange careers and anecdotes, Sadie finds it easy to talk to him. Not as easy as any of her actual friends but it’s good enough. She has to hold her breath anytime she takes a drink but they’re free, so she isn’t saying anything. Matty catches her eye for the first time since being distracted by the girl on his lap, when he catches a glimpse of the blonde boy standing next to her he shakes his head. She scowls at him and turns back to the boy, a bit closer than she was before.

“Do you wanna get out of here? Maybe back to my hotel?” Sadie doesn’t really hear him, she sees Matty shaking her head at something the girl is saying and when she starts shouting at him Sadie knows he’d just been asked the same question she has. Matty makes fleeting eye contact with her, making a look that reads ‘I dare you’. Turning back to Theo she nods her head, smiling up at the smug look on his face, shoving his arm slightly. She finishes her drink with a slight gag and grips onto his arm as he leads her out the front.

“How far is your hotel?” She’d love to know why she feels guilty.

Sadie’s sitting on the doorstep to their flat building with mascara staining her cheeks. When she’d gotten back to Theo’s hotel she experienced something akin to a panic attack and basically ran out of there, he’d chased her just to make sure she was okay and when all she said was, “It isn’t your fault,” he knew that it was the other guy from the bar holding her back, the one from her friend group, “I just have to get back to my flat.”

Feeling nothing less than mortified, she couldn’t bring herself to go in, so she was sitting smoking on the doorstep with the entire evening playing on a loop in her head. Dropping her head to her knees with a sigh she let one more tear fall before putting out her cig with her shoe and opening the door behind her. When she opens the door to the flat she’s met with silence, unsure if anyone’s home until she hears George snoring and a strum of a guitar in the room next to hers. Upon realising he’s the only other person awake she admits defeat and heads to her own room.

After brushing her teeth in the bathroom and grabbing water and some painkillers from the kitchen, she opens her bedroom door to Matty standing, staring down at her. Shutting the door behind her she looks up at him with a fixed glare, silently wishing he’d brush past her and shut the door so she could sleep. But no, as she shuts the door behind her she finds herself slammed against it. “You’re so fucking pathetic, Sades.” It might be the slight buzz she still feels in her head, but his words paired with his hands on her hips hit her right in her core, feeling like her head is about to float right off her shoulders.

“Matty, you’re just here to fuck with my head.” She really tried to make her words believable but the way she trails off into a whine makes it seem quite the opposite. The way in which her body always reacts to him the way he wants will forever make her angry, staring up at him trying to keep her glare steady on her face. It proves hard when Matty’s face moves down to her neck, attacking it with his lips, practically taunting her by the way he leans back up to swallow the moan that leaves her mouth.

She fights her body, trying her hardest to not kiss him back, but the way his tongue is licking into her mouth makes her desperate for anything he’ll give her. “Think you can just go fuck anyone, hmm? You’re wrong, angel. Belong to me, don’t you?” The scowl that takes over her features makes him smirk down at her. “Pretty when you’re angry. Gonna let me show you who you belong to?” She doesn’t want to nod but of course her body is doing things without her brains consent. To be fair said brain is actively turning to mush and melting out of her ears.

“Matty, please. Hurting my head.” After a quick glance up from her neck, he realises she doesn’t mean that literally, but instead she means that his actions are confusing her. He’s too in the moment to care, dragging her to the bed to put her out of her misery. The feeling of the mattress on her back makes her sigh in pleasure, he smirks down at her, working his hands under her, way too big, jumper as he hovers over her, moving down at a teasingly slow pace. She writhes on the bed until his hands take a strong grip of her hips, dragging them to the bottom of the bed before holding her in place as he kisses from her knee to her thigh. “Fuck, why do you always come crawling back to me? Just told me you can’t fuck me anymore.”

“I can’t get enough.” Letting go of her hips to move her panties down her thighs, her hands whip to his hair as she feels a puff of cold air blown onto her clit, her heart stopping in her chest at the feeling. He growls into her dripping cunt, licking a stripe up it before feeling her thighs squeeze his face, moving his hands round them to keep them apart. “Be good. Keep quiet. Maybe I’ll let you cum.” The whine that leaves her mouth is involuntarily and goes against what he’d just said, she knows she’s fucking in for it now.

Lowering her voice to a whisper she leans up onto her elbows, “Matty, do something.” Brown eyes looking into her blue ones with a teasing glint he gives her another kitten lick and her elbows give out on her, back arching from the mattress. The teasing pace of his tongue is making the whole ‘keep quiet’ thing impossible for Sadie, her entire fist is in her mouth at this point and her brain is wondering where on earth he learned how to do this. Sure, he’s eaten her out many times before, but this is her first time realising how good at it he’d gotten. “Please, stop teasing.”

Humming into her wetness, he ponders on whether he should give her more or not. Does she deserve it? “Me stop teasing you? Oh, angel. Take your own advice.” Something about the way she whimpers spurs him on to, in fact, stop teasing. Giving in to her immediately, his tongue finds her clit and picks up the pace by the most miniscule amount. Unwrapping one of his hands from her thigh, his fingers find her entrance, ever teasing, but finding their way in after she hisses down at him to stop.

When he parts for a breather Sadie can see her slick on his chin and the sight brings out something carnal in her. She grabs his chin and pulls him up to her level, smashing their lips together as if they’re running out of time. Pulling away from her, Matty looks down at her, jaw slightly slack. “Like tasting yourself? What do you want, angel? Speak to me.” His digits still slipping deeper into her makes it incredibly difficult for her to formulate words, after whining at him and being met with a cocked eyebrow, she manages.

“Want you.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Just fuck me, Matty.” He doesn’t relent. Hands speeding up, kisses draped across her neck, his other hand finding it’s way up her jumper, squeezing her tits. Determined to pull at least one orgasm from her before giving in to what she wants. He groans into her neck when he feels how tight she’s squeezing his two fingers. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Let go then, angel. Give it to me, all over my fingers, gonna make a mess?” Frantically nodding, she feels her brain fading away into nothingness before his lips wrap around hers. Laying still, not kissing back, her orgasm takes over her being, Matty practically chews her moans with his teeth as if they were tangible. With a whine she rips his hand from between her thighs and finally gives in to the feeling of his lips on hers, kissing back with fervour. He pulls away to glance at his fingers, smothered in her arousal, the sight alone would’ve made him hard if he wasn’t already. Opening her mouth without having to be told to, she takes his two fingers into her mouth, sucking tiredly at them. “You tired?” Taking his hand out of her mouth to hear her reply, he smiles down at her blown out pupils.

“Fuck me, please.” Sometimes she can’t help but make the same mistakes.

Sadie had woken up hours ago. Some sick part of her is forcing her to stay in bed, under his arms, in his t-shirt. There’s an air of domesticity surrounding the pair, the way his dark eyelashes flutter slightly in his sleep has Sadie enamoured. Silently wishing things could be easier, with a sigh. Her brain starts to ponder on where things went wrong, and who might’ve been at fault, when she didn’t like the conclusion she came to she shut her eyes. Matty must’ve felt the way her body shook slightly, waking up slowly with a long stretch. “What you crying for?”

“I don’t know.” He squeezes his arms slightly tighter around her and wipes a tear from her cheek, unable to stop the concerned expression from taking over his features. Rubbing a soothing hand down her back, he shushes her until she’s calm, looking down at her slightly with an encouraging glint in his eye. “I just feel shit about the point we’ve gotten to. Wish we were 16 again.”

“Angel, don’t feel shit. I’ve been a dick to you recently and I’m sorry, I just don’t know how to speak to you anymore.” Sadie nods against his arm at his words, the soft smile taking over his face makes her feel at home. He looks like he’s 18 again in the mornings. It makes Sadie feel a bit sick.

“I don’t know how to speak to you either. We’ve spent everyday together for as long as I can remember, but it’s like you changed without me realising.” Matty hanging off of every word she says enhances the sick feeling in her stomach and she looks away from him. Grabbing her water from the bedside table she cradles her headache with her other hand and hears Matty laughing at her from behind. Putting her water back down she hits his chest and stands up. “I can’t have this conversation with you. I think I need to fucking find my own place. Then Ross and Adam can actually have their own rooms instead of being forced to share. Think it would be best for everyone.” Being met with a head of curls frantically shaking, she sighs.

“You can’t.”

“I will. Watch me.”

#LET THEM BE HAPPY PLS WTF #SO EVIL #recs

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grocerystorelist · 5 days

Text

the good, the bad and the dirty - matty healy

this is part of the janitor!matty au universe, if you have not read part one then you probably should <3

if you wanna make it through the night, you better say my name like the good, the bad and the dirty.

ever since that friday night in your classroom, you couldn't seem to get the janitor off your mind, desperate to feel his hands on you again. as weeks passed with nothing but winks shot at you across the hallway, it seems like fate when matty ends up being your chaperone parter at prom. lucky you.

minors do not interact!

tags: 18+, degradation, fingering, thigh riding, oral (f receiving), choking, unprotected sex, overstimulation, semi public/public sex, dirty sleazy man

11928 words

Standing in the middle of the school gymnasium, sipping on a cup of punch and surrounded by students dressed in sparkly gowns and tuxedos, you couldn’t help but feel nostalgic. The loud bass of a song you only knew from hearing it on the radio rattled through your bones, the neon lights that illuminated from the DJ booth in the corner of the gym blinded you, the taste of the punch that trickled down your throat lacked the burn of alcohol that you so desperately wished it contained. You needed the buzz to make it through the night, able to name at least fifty other things you’d rather be doing with your Saturday night than chaperoning prom.

You cursed Alicia for assigning you the role of guarding the punch bowl so none of the students could spike it, finding it ironic that she had chosen you out of all the other teachers to do the task considering you had already thought about turning a blind eye countless times.

You were much younger than all the rest of the faculty in the school, closer to the students that you taught age than your coworkers, in the middle of your fourth year of teaching since getting your degree. You knew that your younger age played a big part in the reason why the majority of the kids that walked the halls claimed you as their favorite teacher, being twenty six you could relate to them easier than their other teachers who were pushing forty. You loved the way your students were comfortable around you, able to joke around with you yet still be respectful and take you seriously when the time came.

“I can see you lingering and waiting for me to be distracted.” You snort, giving the captain of the football team a pointed look. “Not gonna happen, Josh. If I were you, I’d go back to my date and forget about spiking the punch.”

The teen huffs, rolling his eyes. “Oh, come on.” Josh begs, knowing that it was useless yet trying to sway you regardless. “It’s my senior year, let me have this.”

“I’m already letting you have a passing grade, which you do not deserve, by the way.” You raise an eyebrow at the student who sighed at the reminder of all the missing assignments he owed you due to the football games that kept him too busy, you couldn’t help but feel sympathetic for all of your students, always known to be lenient when it came to late assignments because you remembered being in their shoes all too well - not too long ago you were begging your high school teachers for an extended due date. “I think I’m giving you more than enough, now go.”

Josh sighs, defeated, dropping his head and walking away from the table that contained the bowl of punch. You take another sip from the red liquid in your cup, humming along to the vaguely familiar song that echoed throughout the gymnasium as you looked around at the students that filled the space.

You snorted into the cup at the sight of a group of kids who had labeled themselves as “goth” that you didn’t even need to hear to know they were complaining about the music that was playing, you could read it all over their faces. Your eyes slide over to a couple that danced through an evident argument, quick to think of scenarios that two teenagers could possibly be arguing so red faced about, drawing the conclusion that the boy must have asked another girl to dance and shaking your head. You were in the middle of pouting at the sight of a boy who kept to himself sitting all alone in the corner when an all too familiar voice was heard from behind you.

“Well, what a coincidence.” You didn’t even have to turn around to know that the janitor was speaking through a smug smile, his dark eyes traveling down the back of your frame, only to be confirmed when you turned around to face him. The man before you didn’t even bother to bring his eyes up to meet your own quickly to try and pretend as though he wasn’t checking you out, keeping his eyes glued to your exposed legs, the corners of his mouth twitching as you shift under his heated gaze.

You found yourself regretting your decision of turning Josh and his flask full of alcohol away, wishing that you had allowed the student to spike the punch, needing the buzz more than ever now that his dark eyes were slowly traveling up the expanse of your bare legs. You grip the cup of punch between your manicured fingers a little tighter as his eyes linger on the spot where the hem of your dress meets your thigh, the corners of his mouth twitching once more before he allows his eyes to continue their journey up your body until they find home locked with your own.

“That dress is almost too scandalous for a school event.” He comments off-handedly with a deep, raspy tone, raising an eyebrow at you. You admit that you might be slightly overdressed just to chaperone a school dance, but ever since becoming a teacher, you rarely got the chance to dress up anymore. You were always trying to find a way to dress modestly yet still incorporate your style when dressing for work and too busy grading tests and papers on the weekends to make use of the dresses bought with the intention of being worn out to the bar.

Tonight, you thought that you’d blow the dust off of one of the cherry wine dresses stuffed towards the back of your closet, still covering your skin to where it was appropriate to wear on school ground yet clinging to your body in all the right places that you couldn’t argue with Matty’s claim of ‘almost too scandalous.’ Matty drinks in the sight of you, you found it hard to breathe under his heated stare, his voice deep and raspy as he spoke. “But you look damn good in it.”

You bring the cup of punch up to your lips, hoping the liquid that trickled down your throat would cool the heat that was already beginning to swirl in your stomach at the sight of him. “Hi, Matty.”

It had been a few weeks since the night the two of you shared in your classroom after hours on a Friday night and even though the memory of the things he had said to you burned through your mind on a constant loop, despite the way he had made you feel and the fact that you had tried to recreate it almost every single night since then, you had yet to talk to the janitor since. The two of you had shared countless heated, knowing stares across the hallway in passing since that night, if there was one thing you could count on, it was Matty’s dark eyes giving you a once over anytime you were walking down the hallway to walk to the breakroom or your classroom, unashamed and always full of desire.

Much like they were now, eyes dark as ever as he flashes his pearly whites at you. “Hi, sweetheart.”

You curse the butterflies that dared to flutter in your stomach at the name, soon dying in the lake of fire that consumed your veins at the sight of his arms crossing over his chest. You knew that you were gawking at the janitor, but you couldn’t help it, not when the sleeves of his white dress shirt were rolled up to his elbows - his tattoos on display despite the fact that you were at a school event, a small sign of rebellion that made thrill tingle at your spine. The muscles in his arms strained against the fabric of the dress shirt, you were sure he was flexing them somehow, if the smirk on his face when you finally brought your attention away from his arms and back to his face told you anything. You felt like a dumb, lovestruck teenager with the way just the sight of the man had your legs feeling unsteady and your heart racing.

You swallow thickly, setting your nearly empty cup of punch down on the table behind you, leaning against the wood covered with a cheap tablecloth and crossing your own arms over your chest, the sight of Matty’s eyes falling down to your chest for a split second didn’t go unnoticed by you. You fight off a smirk of your own as you tilt your head to the side, squinting your eyes at the janitor ever so slightly. “What are you doing here?”

“Well,” Matty starts, uncrossing his arms from over his chest and taking a step closer to you. “Alicia put me on punch duty with you, lucky me.” He smiles, shrugging. “Only had to slip her a five dollar bill to sway her.” He teases, laughing along soft and easy when a huff of laughter exhales from your nose as you roll your eyes. “What? Aren’t you happy to see me?” He pouts, slight but still dramatic, the pout soon stretching back into a smirk that might as well be permanent at this point. “Thought you’d be over the moon considering what happened the last time.”

The memory of teeth, tongue and thrusts burn in your mind, flushing your cheeks. “Funny, I thought Coach Jackson was supposed to be my partner for the night.” You recall seeing his name next to your own on the sheet Alicia had made for tonight, but you weren’t complaining, Matty was a major upgrade from the coach - it was just going to be even harder for you to not get distracted now that he was crowding your space. “I didn’t even know you were on the list of chaperones, I’m surprised they asked you.”

“What?” Matty gasps, faux offended, voice full of sarcasm. “Am I not allowed to attend an event to show my school spirit?” You fix him with a pointed look that had him breaking character and raising his hands in defense. “Fine.” He sighs. “Coach Jackson has a stomach bug, so he called me and asked if I’d fill in for him.” You nod along to the explanation, taking a mental note not to interact too closely with the coach come Monday morning in case any of the germs from the illness lingered. “And what do you mean by that, sweetheart? You don’t think I’m capable of watching over some teenagers for a few hours?”

“No.” You shrug. “I just didn’t think a place like this would be your scene, you know?”

Your eyes falling down to the collar of his shirt, heat swirling in your stomach at the sight of a black tie loosely tied around his neck, hanging off of his neck as if he had been tugging on it all night. Oh, how you wished to tug on it now, pulling his face down to yours and crashing his mouth against your own, eager to get a taste of the cigarettes that you knew lingered on his tongue from the one he smoked on his drive over here.

Matty takes another step closer and from the way he was towering over you, staring down at you as if he could eat you alive, you could only assume that he was thinking the same thing.

You hesitate before reaching out to take the end of his tie between two of your manicured nails, indulging yourself and tugging on it ever so slightly before tossing it out of your hold, Matty’s adams apple bobbing in his throat at the action. You shrug, feeling a little more powerful now that Matty was shifting under your gaze now.

“I mean, I didn’t even know you owned a tie.” You take in the sight of his appearance unashamed, the way his curls were ever so slightly damp and actually styled for once, instead of hastily pushed back out of his eyes, the way his seemingly permanent stubble had been freshly shaven, the smell of his cologne lingering in the small space between the two of you. You flutter your eyelashes at him, doe eyes staring up at him and causing his adams apple to bob in his throat once more at the sight. “You clean up nice.”

Matty’s tongue peaks out to lick along the expanse of his bottom lip, the corners of his mouth twitching up as his dark eyes scan your face, reaching up to the knot on his tie and tugging on it slightly to loosen it more, voice deep and teasing. “Had to pull it out of my box that I keep hidden under my bed.”

Your stomach flips at the idea of Matty keeping a box full of things that needed to be hidden under his bed, mind whirling at the possibilities of what it could contain - toys, ties, anything you’d expect a man as sleazy as him to own. You suddenly had a craving to know what he was hiding away, desperate to know more about him. You pick your forgotten cup of punch back up from the cloth covered table behind you, raising an eyebrow as well as the cup, teasing over the rim of the plastic before taking a sip. “Kinky.”

Matty smiles easily, dangerously, eyeing you up and down before taking another step forward, the tips of his shoes touching your own. You swallow down the rest of your punch at the feeling, at the close proximity to the janitor, at the desire to take him right here on the table behind you. You have to tilt your neck to look up at him, his eyes linger on the expanse of it before locking with your own, dark and full of lust. “Oh, you have no idea.” His thick, dark eyebrows raise slightly as his tongue peaks out to lick his lips once more, preparing to set the trap for you. “But you could.”

His words shoot straight down to your core, igniting a fire within your veins and making you wish you hadn't downed all of your punch already, yet refusing to turn around and pour yourself some more. You knock your foot against his own. “I think I already have an idea.”

Matty towers over you smirking and what you were sure were filthy words read to fire from his tongue, but they died before reaching the surface. His attention pulled to look over your head, his eyebrows furrowing and speaking in an authoritative tone that shot straight down to your core.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You turn your head to glance over your shoulder, sighing when you see Josh standing in front of the punch once more, the silver flask dangling from his frozen fingers. You turn back around to face forward, not willing to get the headache over scolding the teenager yet again for trying to spike the punch twice within the hour, choosing to distract yourself by staring at the way Matty’s neck flexed as he spoke.

“Nothing.” Is the genius response the captain of the football team comes up with, the two of you snort in unison at the little effort the teenager had put into defending himself.

“Oh, come on, if you’re going to try and spike the punch you can’t make it so painfully obvious.” Matty groans, shaking his head softly, his curls with it. “Don’t offend me. Get out of here.” You hear Josh groan, assuming that he was gone now that Matty’s eyes were back on you, huffing out a laugh and rolling his dark eyes softly. “Teenagers are fucking insufferable.” You giggle, nodding your head in agreement, crossing your arms over your chest and not missing the way the janitor’s eyes fall down to your cleavage. “Now, back to this dress you’ve got on.”

You snort, shaking your head to distract from the way his obsession with the cherry wine fabric clung to your body had you feeling as though you were the only girl in the room. And really, to him, you were. You bat your lashes at him, voice innocent as ever. “What about it?”

Matty knocks his foot against your own, signaling that he had you all figured out. “You get all dolled up for me?”

And you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t. Even though you had no idea that the janitor would be in attendance tonight, you held onto the small odd percentage that he would and might have taken an extra half hour to get ready than you normally would, a practice you had adopted into your morning routine for work as well. Ever since that night in your classroom, you found yourself desperate to look your best everyday at work in hopes of catching Matty’s eyes in the hallway. It felt as though you had a high school crush all over again, blushing when he winked at you over the students heads and feeling blue when there were too many students between you for him to notice you at all.

Still, you couldn’t let the older janitor know the hold he had on you, lying through your teeth when you say, “You wish.” Rolling your eyes playfully, shrugging. “I didn’t even know you’d be here, so.”

Matty hums, drinking in the sight of you, his eyes impossibly darker when they lock back with your own. “I find that hard to believe, love.” Your heart rate immediately doubles in speed. “I think you wanted me to see you in this, think you wanted to drive me fucking crazy.” Your stomach swirls with heat, hopeful that the music echoing throughout the gym was drowning out the ability for others to hear what he was saying to you.

Matty reaches around you to grab a clear plastic cup from the stack on the table, you hold your breath as his arms brushes against your own while he pours himself a cup of punch. “You got your wish, princess.” He speaks casually as if he isn’t causing your heart to pound against your ribs, leaning in to speak into your ear, your core clenching at his words. “All I want to do is rip this fucking dress off and have my way with you.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, mind clouded with his cologne and lust for the janitor as he leans back with a smirk, bringing the cup full of punch up to his lips and taking a sip casually, smirking over the rim of the cup. You don’t trust your voice to speak, looking up at the man that towered over you, feeling as though you were the only two people in the room with the way he was staring at you. “Let’s get out of here.”

The bass from the music rattles the thoughts in your head, thoughts that scream for you to grab Matty by his tie and drag him into the nearest vacant room so he can satisfy the ache you’ve been battling to ease for weeks now, but you couldn’t. Not here. Not now.

“I can’t.” You sigh, clarifying further. “We can’t, people would notice.” And it wasn’t the fact that you didn’t want people to know that you were hooking up with Matty, it was the fact that you didn’t want the entire school to know that it was happening at prom. You pitifully try to joke, but it lands flat. “Plus, who would keep the punch from being spiked?”

“C’mon, we won't be gone long.” His lust filled eyes burning against your skin as he counters, speaking as confident as ever as a cocky smile takes hold of his lips. “You know I can get you there quick.” Your core clenches at his words, you were positive that your underwear were absolutely ruined at this point, so desperate for him that you were nearly willing to risk your job just to have him again. Matty tempts further, smirking. “Ten minutes, I won’t even have to use my hands.”

Your mind spins with the possibilities, with the thrill of sneaking away and hoping not to be caught. You take the cup of punch from his hands, letting the tips of your fingers linger against his own before taking a sip from his cup. Matty watched your every move like his life depended on it, dark eyes following the way your tongue swiped against your bottom lip to collect the droplets of punch that lingered after you swallowed. You raise a brow, offering his cup back to him which he took without hesitation, tipping his head back to swallow the punch that remained.

“Tempting.” You say, because it was, lying straight through your teeth as you say. “But I’m not desperate enough to risk my job for a quickie.” Not even realizing that you were putting your final nail in the coffin when you take the lie further and say. “I don’t need you, I can do it on my own.”

Matty huffed out a laugh, ready to call you on your bullshit, but the opportunity to do so fizzled out when the two of you weren’t so alone anymore.

“Am I the only one sick and tired of this music?” You hear a familiar voice pull you out of the thick tension you were swimming in between you and Matty, turning your head to the side to glance over your shoulder before moving the rest of your body to face the same direction. The heat radiating from Matty’s body warmed your back now as he lingered behind you, not bothering to take a step back and put some space between the two of you, almost as if he wanted the math teacher standing on the other side of the table to see that he was one step away from his body being flush to your own. “I haven’t had a headache this strong since my college days.”

William, a nerdy math teacher that you had shared a table with in the breakroom on a handful of occasions, smiles easily as he grabs a cup from the stack and reaches for the ladle in the punch bowl, pouring himself a drink while eyeing the two of you over the rim of the cup.

“Enjoying punch duty?” William teases, pushing the rim of his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Have any attempted spikes yet?”

Matty answers before you have the chance to, so close to him that the sound of his deep, raspy voice rattles through you, shooting straight down to your throbbing core and making it difficult to focus on their conversation. “Captain of the football team, who would have guessed.”

The two men share a laugh and soon William’s eyes are locked on you, uncertain if the pink tint gracing his cheeks was due to the fluorescent lighting in the gym or from his mustering up the courage to compliment you. “You look really pretty tonight.”

It took you a beat to realize he was even speaking to you, so caught up in daydreaming about allowing Matty to pull you out of the gym to hear him, sputtering out a response when you caught the nerves settling in his eyes from the silence that came from you.

“Oh, this old thing?” You laugh, forced and breathless, glancing down at the cherry wine fabric that clung to your body in all the right places. “I just threw something on at the last minute.”

At that, you felt the unmistakable feeling of Matty’s hand running down your back, his blunt fingernails digging into the fabric, a silent reminder that he knew you were lying - he knew that you had planned this outfit around the possibility of seeing him tonight. You swallow thickly, the warmth from his hand burning through the fabric and lit your skin on fire, embarrassed at the fact that he barely had his hands on you and your body was already reacting this way to the feeling.

“I’m serious.” William presses, encouraging Matty’s hand to slip lower and lower down your back, lingering at the hem of your dress and tugging on the fabric slightly before slipping underneath it, the pads of his fingertips tracing along the edge of the lace of your underwear. You felt guilty for the way the flush on your cheeks was due to the feeling of Matty’s finger slipping under the waistband of your underwear, pulling it back slightly before allowing it to quietly snap back against your hip bone and not due to the way William was speaking a sentiment that mirrored one you had said to the janitor standing behind you earlier. “You clean up nice.”

A ‘thank you’ was sitting on the tip of your tongue, unspoken due to the fact that Matty’s voice had filled the void instead.

“Doesn’t she?” He beams, smiling kind despite the fact that what he was doing hidden behind the punch bowl was anything but sinful. His long fingers followed the line of lace until they found home against your covered core, lightly tracing the patch where you had soaked through the material, his foot knocking against the back of your own at the feeling. Your breath hitches in your throat, clenching around nothing as his skilled fingers found home against your aching bundle of nerves as if he had been fucking you for years, drawing painfully slow circles over the fabric and making your mind turn to mush.

You were grateful for the fact that the table that held the punch was in the corner of the room, nothing behind the two of you except a wall. Holding what little air you had left in your lungs as Matty continued to draw circles over your clothed clit, you wished the fabric wasn’t blocking you from feeling his calloused fingertips against the bundle of nerves. Instead, he presses down a little harder to signal for you to speak. You weren’t sure if you trusted your voice to do so, but you could feel both of their eyes staring at you, waiting to hear the sound of it.

You swallow thick, clenching your thighs softly around Matty’s hand before clearing your throat, hopeful that your voice wouldn’t be as breathless as you felt. “Thank you.”

It was a simple answer, yet felt as though the two words held a deeper meaning, putting the final nail in your coffin as Matty’s fingers slipped under the fabric of your underwear, slipping the material to the side and brushing his fingertips against your bare core. You kick your foot back against his own softly, a silent plea for him to take pity on you, the action only caused him to take a half a step closer to you, further blocking the already hidden action of him running his fingers through your folds with more of a purpose now.

Your brain felt as though it was melting out of your ears, the thrum from the bass of the music that blared throughout the gym assisted Matty’s fingers against your core in a beautifully sinful way. Your heart was pounding against your chest, ears ringing as his calloused fingertips finally found home against your swollen bundle of nerves, swallowing down a groan that threatened to spill from your mouth as heat trickled up your spine with every swipe of his skilled fingers.

“Are you okay?” William’s voice pulls you from your spiral, anticipation coursing through your veins as Matty pinches your clit before trailing down to tease a finger at your entrance, you clench around nothing at the feeling of his calloused fingertip rubbing mind numbing circles over your entrance yet not pushing in any further. It was driving you crazy, the fact that Matty seemed to be making it his mission to cause you to be anything but okay. “You look a little flushed.”

The concern in William’s voice almost made you feel guilty about the cause of it, almost, you would have allowed the guilt to seep into your veins if the pleasure already blooming there wasn’t blocking it from doing so. Thankfully, Matty steps in to speak for you once more.

“She’s fine.” He assures, speaking so confidently that even you almost believed him, despite the fact that his hand was lighting your body on fire. “She’s just had one too many cups of punch.” Matty jokes, circling his calloused finger over your entrance one last time before finally pushing it home, slow and teasing. He bottoms out to the knuckle, curling the finger and numbing your mind as he voices a play on words that only the two of you would understand the double meaning of. “Don’t tell anyone about the flask she’s hiding under her dress.”

You clench around his digit as William laughs at the janitor's joke, you attempt to laugh along with the two of them, though yours comes out more pitiful and breathless as Matty slowly pulls out only to push back in with two fingers this time. The feeling of his fingers stretching you out was one you had been chasing to recreate for weeks now, cursing the fact that you were having to focus more on keeping your face neutral to hide what Matty was doing to you instead of freely being able to enjoy what you have so desperately desired since that night in your classroom, hating yourself for turning down Matty’s offer of ‘let’s get out of here.’ more than ever now.

You were already so drunk on the feeling of Matty’s fingers moving so painfully slow inside of you that you almost missed William departing. “Well, I better get back to making sure nobody stuffs the ballot box.” He sighs, pushing his glasses up his nose once more before tilting his head in the direction of the stand where the students would vote for prom king and queen. “Don’t want a war to break out in here, now do we?”

Matty laughs, curling his fingers inside of you and causing your body to jolt from the pleasure that bloomed through your veins at the feeling. You smile, weak and unconvincing, swallowing thickly and clenching around Matty’s fingers as you watch William walk away, leaving the two of you alone once more.

Matty curls his fingers one last time before slowly slipping out of you, a condescending tone spoken into your ear as his calloused fingers press against your bundle of nerves. “I thought you weren’t desperate enough to risk your job?” He chuckles, mean and dark, pinching your clit to match. “Sure didn’t seem that way, clenching around my fingers and begging me to fuck you in front of him.”

You can’t even find a voice to argue with, scared that if you opened your mouth the only thing that would fall from it would be pitiful moans drawn from the pleasure Matty was giving you right now in a room full of people. A whine tumbling out instead when he suddenly pulled his fingers back all together, grabbing at your hip and turning you back around to face him. You were sure that you were quite the sight, cheeks flushed and eyes full of fire that glared up at him, wishing they had the power to kill.

Matty smiles, smug and powerful, patronizing as he says. “Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?” Your jaw ticks, heated eyes that glared in complete contradiction to the way his own devoured you, his bottom lip jutting out ever so slightly in a condescending pout that made your stomach flip. “What’s got you so worked up, princess?”

You wanted to wipe that smirk right off of his face, desperate to prove him wrong and say that he had no affect on you at all, but both of you would know that you’re lying straight through your teeth. He knew the way he made you feel, how much control he had over you, hell, he had just felt it for himself only a few minutes ago. In front of William, in front of everyone. You should have turned back around and poured yourself another cup of punch, relying on the fruity mix to cool the heat in your body, but instead you found yourself speaking through a glare and gritted teeth. “Bathroom. Now.”

Matty’s smirk had deepened before you had even finished voicing the two words, a prideful look in his eye as if he had won some type of unspoken game here, his dark eyes scanning down your body unashamedly. “Knew you’d see things my way.”

You roll your eyes, voiding a verbal response in favor of grabbing his wrist and tugging him away from the punch bowl, but Matty remains glued to his spot. You huff, turning back around to face the janitor who was looking back at you with a raised brow. “Hold on, princess. You don’t want to get caught now, do you? Can’t risk our jobs, right?”

Thrill creeps back up your spine, the idea of hiding made this feel forbidden, dangerous. You shake your head softly, dropping his wrist from your hold and glancing around the room to make sure nobody had noticed the two of you, surprised that the entire gym wasn’t stuck swimming in the tension between you and him. Matty looks you up and down once more before taking a step closer, speaking deep and low, his voice shooting straight down to your already throbbing core. “Go to the janitor closet and wait for me.” Your stomach swoops. “Down the hall, third door on the left.” Matty explains the route as if he’d done it a million times, you didn’t like the thought of that. “I’ll be there in five minutes.”

Your feet were carrying you down the spoken path without a second thought, heels clacking against the hardwood flooring of the gym as you weaved your way through the crowd of coworkers and teenagers you were supposed to be keeping an eye on. Instead, you were hopeful that their eyes weren’t on you as you glanced over your shoulder before making your way down the hall of the gym that led back to the locker rooms, counting the doors on the left you passed until you were standing outside of the third one.

Your heart raced as you read the plaque on the door, Janitor Closet, the silent reminder that the man you were about to fuck was just as sleazy as the location you were going to do it in.

You turn the knob, glancing over your shoulder once more to make sure no one had followed you before slipping into the small closet, blindly entering the dark space and cursing under your breath when your arm knocked against what you could only assume was a mop leaned against the wall, the wood falling to the side and the sound of it smacking against the floor echoed throughout the space. For the first time that night, you found yourself thankful that the music in the gym was so loud.

You reach up to grab the chain hanging from the ceiling, a singular lightbulb barely illuminated the space, squinting to allow your eyes to adjust. You barely had the chance to look around the closet before the door to it was swinging open and slamming shut just as quickly, no time to register that someone else was in the closet with you before a hand was wrapped around your throat and you were being pushed against the wall, head slamming against the surface and knocking the wind out of you as lips crash against your own.

If the familiar smell of the cologne that had clouded your brain all night and now filled the small space didn’t clue you in enough, the taste of cigarettes on the tongue that was exploring your mouth told you everything you needed to know.

“Matty.” You whine against his mouth, the sound makes him squeeze the hand wrapped around your throat a little tighter, your head already spinning and spiraling. You needed to pull away from the kiss to catch some air, to gain back some control, to scold him. “That was not five minutes.”

“Couldn’t fucking wait that long.” Matty defends, the dim light in the closet accentuated his features in a way that had your stomach flipping and thighs clenching together. “I need to get my hands on you right now.”

He huffs out through pants, already breathless from the kiss you had just shared, not hesitating before trailing the hand that was holding your neck up to grip your jaw before pulling your mouth back against his own in a rough, passionate kiss that made your head spin.

And who were you to argue with that?

You allow Matty to take full control in the kiss that was more teeth and tongue than anything else, losing yourself in the feeling of his mouth against your own, the only thing grounding you were his hands gripping your waist - fingernails digging into the cherry wine fabric of your dress so harshly that you were convinced crescent moon shapes would be marked there despite the layer between his nails and your skin.

Matty tugs your bottom lip into his mouth, releasing it with a pop and staring down at you with hungry eyes that we’re barely visible in the dim closet.

“Look at you.” He coos, taking one of his hands off of your waist in favor of hooking it under the strap of your dress, toying with it until it fell down your shoulder. “Pretty little princess just waiting to be destroyed.” You whine at that, pitiful and desperate, stomach swirling with a newfound desire that heightened the throbbing beat of your core. His dark eyes roam your body, pinching your hip as he leans down to kiss up the side of your neck. His tongue traces unknown patterns along the expanse of it in his journey up to your ear, licking your earlobe and tugging on your earring with his teeth before whispering hotly into your ear. “I want to fucking tear you apart.”

Matty swallows the gasp that tumbles from your lips at his words, kissing you as though his life depended on it, pushing you harder against the wall of the closet and bringing his body flush with your own.

You were dizzy, overwhelmed, desperate. You needed Matty to do something, anything, you were on the brink of insanity with how intensely your core ached to be touched by the janitor.

It was a taste you had a craving for since that first night in your classroom, trying everything to recreate it yet nothing satisfied the itch that remained since the janitor had walked out that night. And now that you had a sample earlier at the punch bowl in front of William, you weren’t just hungry for him, you were fucking starving.

“Matty.” You whine against his mouth, the sound jumpstarting him to pull off and resume his attack on your neck, grazing his teeth against the skin before biting down and soothing with his tongue after.

Your hazy mind made everything feel as though you were a beat behind, struggling to keep up with the fast pace of the janitor who was trailing his mouth from your neck down to your chest, licking a broad stripe over the area while his hands slide under the straps of your dress and pull them down your shoulders.

Matty’s foot kicks your legs apart wide enough for him to slip a thigh between them, the sudden pressure against an area that was aching to have attention had you gasping, tossing your head back against the wall of the closet as he continued to push your dress down your chest until your tits were free.

Matty was quick to lick a strip between your boobs before trailing his tongue to the side to swirl around one of your peaked nipples, groaning against the sensitive bud before sucking it into his mouth. You whine involuntarily grinding down on his thigh he had perfectly placed between your legs, eyelashes fluttering at the pleasure that bloomed through your veins at the feeling. Matty smirks against your breast, grazing his teeth against your nipple softly before swirling his tongue over it one last time and pulling off.

He stands up straight, towering over you now, staring down at you with eyes that conveyed how desperately he wanted to eat you alive. Bringing a hand up to your neglected breast, rolling the sensitive bud under his thumb while holding a vice grip on your hip with the other.

You couldn’t help it, grinding down on his thigh once more in a desperate attempt to relieve some of the pressure between your thighs, the throbbing ache in your core was mind numbing. Matty smirks at the action, switching his thumb out in favor of pinching your nipple between two of his fingers while tensing his thigh against you all at the same time, mixing pain and pleasure in such a way that had you tossing your head back against the wall once more.

Matty takes the action as an invitation, all but growling as he leans back down to kiss, lick, bite at your neck. He toys with your sensitive bud between two of his fingers while rolling your hips down onto his thigh, sucking a mark into the side of your neck that you knew would need to be covered by makeup or scarves for the next few days.

You whine his name as if it’s the only word you knew anymore, pliant against the wall and willing to let Matty maneuver you however he wanted, which only seemed to fuel the desire in the janitor's veins. All too powerful as he licks a strip up the side of your neck and up to your ear, pinching your nipple as he spoke directly into your ear, sending shockwaves down to your core in the process.

“Filthy fucking girl, getting off on my thigh.” You whine as he grips your hip impossibly tighter, sure to leave bruises behind, at least those would be easier to hide than the one on your neck. He rolls your hips down to meet his thigh, pleasure bloomed behind your fallen eyelids, awakening the need in you to start grinding down on him yourself. Matty smirks at that, slowly pulling his hand from your hip in favor of capturing your hand with his own and raising it above your head, holding it against the wall while keeping his other occupied with your breast. “I don’t even need to make you dirty, you already are.”

You whine, pitiful and desperate, rolling your hips down on his tensed thigh quicker now, chasing the heat that was already coiling in your stomach embarrassingly fast. “Matty, please.”

“What?” He pouts, leaning down to get his mouth back on your tits, staring up at you through his lashes as he sticks his tongue out to swirl circles around your nipple, smiling softly before sucking it into his mouth and releasing it with a pop. “What’s the matter, love? Use your words.”

Your head was spinning, swimming in desperation, difficult to find the words to convey what you wanted when Matty was stealing them right from your mouth with every skilled swipe of his tongue on your nipple and every roll of his thigh he met with the roll of your hips. Your voice breathy when you finally found it. “Need you.”

Matty coos, pouting against your breast, a pout that slowly morphed into a smirk as his dark, dangerous eyes pinned you to the wall as effectively as his hand did to your arm and his body did to your own.

“You have me.” He reminds with a pointed roll of his thigh, the danger in his eyes only deepening when you whimper in response, licking a trail from between your breasts, up your chest and to your neck until his mouth found home against your own. Matty kisses you as hungrily as you felt, too drunk on the kiss to realize that Matty had captured your other hand in his own, bringing it up to the wall behind you to mirror your one from before. You only realized when Matty pulled back from the kiss, a line of spit connecting the two of you as you both panted to catch your breath. On instinct, you found yourself tugging to get your arms free, but Matty’s own didn’t budge at all. The blatant display of strength and power only fueled Matty further.

“C’mon, miss independent, you told me you can do it on your own.” You whine as Matty throws your words from earlier back in your face, stopping his thigh from rolling against you and gripping your hands between his own a little tighter, a smirk plastered to his face. “Show me how dirty you can be.”

You whine, tossing your head back against the wall, Matty was quick to fill the empty space and leave more kisses and bruises along the expanse of your throat. You didn’t hesitate to follow orders, as stubborn as you could be on any given day, you were too desperate to think of doing anything but grinding down on Matty’s thigh in desperation to chase the pleasure that followed with each roll of your hips.

You were close, embarrassingly so, the coil in your stomach wound so tight that you could barely breathe. You could do nothing but pant, whine and moan Matty’s name as you chase your high. Your hips stutter against his thigh on a particularly mind numbing roll, squeezing his hand interlocked with your own tightly as you clench around nothing, picking up the speed of your hips and moaning his name like the good, the bad and the dirty.

“Fuck.” You whine, swallowing thickly, your body on fire. “Matty.”

The sound pulled Matty out of his assault on your neck, still refusing to move his thigh to help you but encouraging you to crash and burn by licking the shell of your ear before speaking directly into it.

“You’re close aren’t you?” You whine, nodding your head quickly, Matty nibbles on your earlobe through a smirk. “Yeah? Just needed the sound of my voice to send you over the edge?” You nod once more, a death grip on his hands that cover your own as you roll your hips frantically, desperately. “Need my permission?”

You hated the way he knew you so well. His deep, raspy voice tightening the coil in your stomach impossibly tighter, pleasure shooting up your spine and begging to be released. You nod, too embarrassed to voice it outloud but Matty bites your ear lobe to remind you of his order from earlier, use your words.

“Yes.” You voice through breathless pants, rolling your hips to no real rhythm, too close to be graceful anymore. You could feel the need to release inching up your spine, pressure begging to be relieved, climbing up your throat and burning like fire on the way up. “Matty, fuck, please.”

“There she is.” Matty beams. “You wanna cum, baby?” The pet name falling so easily from his tongue shot straight down to your flipping stomach, you nod to distract from the butterflies that threatened to grow. “Yeah? You wanna cum all over my thigh?” He coos. “So fucking desperate for it that you don’t even need me to touch you, isn’t that right?”

“Matty.” You whine, the coil in your stomach desperate to snap but needing his permission to, you weren’t sure how much longer it’d wait before completely consuming you.

Matty watches you for a beat, taking in the sight of how fucked out you look, glazed over eyes and flushed cheeks, memorizing each and every feature better this time in case it really was the last. When he locked eyes with your own pleading ones full of desperation, he didn’t hesitate to say. “Cum for me, baby, cum all over my thigh.” And you were falling apart instantly on him, body shaking and whine after whimper tumbling from your lips as you finally crashed and burned. “That’s it, make a fucking mess, make me just as dirty as you.”

You continued to roll your hips down on his thigh as you came down from your high, body pliant against the wall, not even realizing that you were relying on the way Matty had you pinned to the way to keep yourself steady and standing until he was dropping to his knees in front of you.

You roll your head to the side so you could look down at him, the janitor already staring up at you with pride filled eyes clouded with lust, a smirk playing on his lips as he teases. “I told you I wouldn’t need my hands”

You laugh softly, kicking your heel clas foot against his knee while rolling your eyes. “I hate you.”

“Yeah, it really seems that way.” He teases, running his hands up the expanse of your thighs, pushing the cherry wine fabric up higher until the ruined lace of your black underwear was on display for him, his head dropping down on your thigh at the sight. “Fuck, baby, you wear these just for me?”

He hooks his fingers into the waistband of the lace, trailing a line of open mouthed kisses up the inside of your thigh, only breaking away long enough to pull your underwear down them before diving back in.

Matty held out a hand for you to hold onto, steady yourself with as you lifted one of your heeled feet up so he could free it from the lace, placing it back down and repeating the action with the other foot until the black lace of your thong was off of your body and held between his fingers.

You didn’t like the power he held over you, desperate to even the playing field and not let him know the effect he had on you. You shrug, watching the way Matty balled up the lace and winked at you before stuffing it in the front pocket of his pants, your eyes falling down to the wet patch in the middle of his thigh and flush. “I didn’t even know if you’d be here or not.”

You tried to be casual, but you knew that Matty could see right through you, his warm hands back on your thigh and mouth back to leaving open mouthed kisses up the expanse of it.

“No, you didn’t.” He mumbles against the inside of your thigh. “But you were hoping I would be.” Once again you found yourself cursing Matty for how well he knew you. “That's why you got all dolled up tonight and wore this lace, just in case you saw me.” He bit into the meat of your thigh, jolting your body forward. He smirked against the skin, trailing one of his hands behind your thigh, lifting your leg up and hooking it over his shoulder, you shuddered at the sight. He had you exactly how he wanted you, right in the palm of his hand. “Just for me. All for me. Isn’t that right, love?”

And as desperately as you wanted to tell him no, to prove him wrong, to knock his ego down a peg - you couldn’t find it in yourself to say anything but the truth. “Yes.”

“Such a dirty girl.” He comments off handedly, locking eyes with you before leaning into your core and spitting on top of the wetness that was already costing your thighs. “Fucking filthy.”

And that was all he had to say before diving into you, your head tossing back against the wall of the closet as he didn’t hesitate to lick and suck with as much hunger that was coursing through his veins.

You found it hard to keep up with the pace that he was eating you out with, the only thing you could think of was teeth, tongue, pleasure. Your mind spinning and swirling as Matty’s tongue was against your swollen, sensitive bundle of nerves, sucking it into his mouth and already having that familiar heat coiling in your stomach once again.

It was embarrassing how quickly Matty was able to bring you to the brink of insanity, you had never finished so quickly with another partner before, or even yourself. Matty somehow knew your body better than yourself after just one hookup, you couldn’t help but wonder what he could do after knowing it for years.

You swallow down the thought, scared of catching any real feelings for the janitor, knowing that the older man saw this as nothing but casual. But that was proving harder and harder to avoid when he was mumbling against your core. “So fucking pretty like this, falling apart on my tongue.” He emphasizes by giving you a particularly pointed lick that had your legs shaking.

He smirks against your core, fingers digging into the thigh he had hooked over his shoulder as he pulls off to catch his breath, bringing his other hand down to tease two fingers at your entrance, meeting no resistance as he plunges them inside of you. Your mouth falls open in pleasure, eyes rolling back into your skull as Matty curls his fingers and of course, instantly finds that heavenly spot inside of you that had your brain melting from your ears.

Matty watches your face crumble with a permanent smirk etched onto his face as he fucks you with his fingers, curling them once more just to hear you gasp again, like music to his ears.

“Prettiest girl in the world.” He mumbles before leaning in to suck your clit into his mouth, the feeling of that mixed with his impossibly long fingers fucking into you at a brutal yet consistent pace had you feeling overwhelmed, pleasure blooming through your veins so quickly that you couldn’t even voice it. Matty knew the signs anyways, of course he did.

“You gonna cum, sweet girl?” A broken whine ripped from your throat as he curls his fingers, fucking into you quicker now, replacing his tongue with his thumb to rub at your clit as he spoke to you. “So soon? Greedy little thing, you are. I was having fun.” He pouts, the sight has you clenching around him, desperate for release. “Go on, then. Cum for me, I won’t stop you, let me fucking hear you.”

It only took three more pumps of his fingers inside of you, two more swipes of his thumb against your swollen clit and you were falling apart yet again on him, clenching and throbbing around his fingers as you let the music in the gym far away drown out the sounds of your whimpers and moans. “That’s it, good girl.” Matty praises, making you clench around him once more. “You follow orders so well, so much easier to fuck you when you aren’t being stubborn like last time.”

You laugh softly at the tease, body jolting through aftershocks as Matty curls his fingers in you one last time before slowly pulling his fingers out of you, leaning forward to place a tender kiss to your sensitive clit before leaning back to make eye contact with you as he brought his fingers up to his mouth to lick them clean of you. He groans at the taste, you groan at the sight. “Matty, please.”

The janitor smirks around his fingers, pulling them out with a pop before slowly starting to rise from his haunches. “What, baby?” He coos, your head slowly tilting up the straighter he stood, tipped back as he towers over you now. “You wanna taste?”

You grab his face, crashing his lips against your own in lieu of voicing a response, swallowing each other's moans as you kiss hungrily, more teeth and tongue than anything else. “Fuck me.” You mumble against his mouth, the grip he has on your waist tightening at the sound. “Please, I need you.”

“You need me?” Matty mocks, pulling away from the kiss in favor of pouting at you as he tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear, always condescending as ever. “I thought you didn’t need me?” Bringing those cursed words you had stupidly said earlier right back to bite you in the ass. “Thought you could do it all on your own, princess, what happened to that?”

You wanted to wipe that condescending pout right off his face, swallowing thick and hard as you reached out to unbutton the dress shirt he was wearing, pouting yourself as you say. “You look really fucking hot tonight.” Running your hands over his now bare chest, trailing them up to his shoulders and pushing the thin fabric off of his back and onto the floor beneath you. “But I think I prefer you in your normal clothes.”

Matty smirks. “Yeah?”

You nod, trailing your hand down his chest until it reached the buckle of his belt, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as your manicured nails fumbled with the belt until it was open enough for you to pop open the button of his pants. Matty swallows thickly at the action, watching your hand slip under the waistband of his boxers, his eyebrows furrowing and a soft groan tumbling from his swollen lips as you wrap a hand around his length, pumping slowly up to the tip.

“I bet you do.” Matty’s voice huskier than before, licking his bottom lip before placing his hand next to your head on the wall behind you, dark eyes pinned you in place. “Don’t like when I’m all cleaned up, do you?” He asks, hissing when you swipe your thumb over his tip. You shake your head innocently enough. “No, you prefer me to be dirty. Isn’t that right, princess?”

You smirk, swiping your thumb over his tip again just to see his eyes flutter closed a little before wrapping your free hand around the black tie that remained around his neck, tugging on the tie to bring his mouth to your own to say. “Fucking filthy.” Before crashing your lips back on his own.

Matty groans into your mouth, hooking an arm around your waist and lifting you up, your legs wrapping around his back on instinct, gasping into his mouth at the action. You were desperate to see the way the muscles in his arms were bulging now that he was holding all your weight up against the wall, clenching around nothing at the thought.

Matty knocks your hand wrapped around him away in favor of replacing it with his own, pulling away from the kiss to pant as he pumps himself, groaning before spitting down on his length and spreading the saliva over it with his hand. You whine at the sight, clenching your thighs around his hips in a desperate plea for him to just fuck you already, you were more than ready for it.

“Matty, please.” You whine, hooking your arms over his shoulders and digging your manicured nails into his curls, tugging on the grey streaks. “I need you, please.”

“You want me to fuck you, baby?” Matty’s voice so deep it was almost incoherent, running his tip through your folds but making no effort to push it home. You nod, whining desperately, the feeling of his tip bumping against your clit with every swipe makes you breathless.

“Please.” You beg once more. “I’ve been so good.”

And that was enough to make Matty slide home, pushing in slowly to the hilt and allowing you to adjust to the stretch for all of a few seconds before fucking you in a pace that you lost your breath in.

“Fuck.” He groans, snapping his hips against your own. “This was your plan all along, wasn’t it?” You were too fucked out to reply, Matty took you clenching around him as answer enough. “Wanted me to pull you away so I could fuck you raw and dirty, just how you like it.” He emphasizes by fucking you even harder, your head tossing back against the wall at the feeling. “How you need it.”

You whine, thankful that Matty was fully supporting your body against the wall, knowing that your legs would be too shaky to stand on your own. You didn’t care about the fact that Josh was probably spiking the punch right now, celebrating with the entire football team, not when Matty was fucking you like this.

“I'm the only one who can give it to you like this, the only one who can make you feel like this.” You moan, nodding unashamed, because he was right. Nobody had ever made you feel like this and you knew no one else ever would. “Say it.” Matty orders, hips snapping into your own at a heavenly pace. “Say I’m the only one who can make you feel like this.”

You weren’t sure if you even had a voice to speak, knowing that any words that climbed to the tip of your tongue Matty had stolen with a thrust of his hips, feeling as though he was splitting you open against the wall of the janitor closet.

“You, Matty.” You voice as breathless as you felt, moaning at the feeling of him fucking you harder. “You’re the only one who can fuck me like this.”

“Tell me.” He speaks through a clenched jaw, his eyes more serious now, repeating back the phrase with a deeper underlying meaning behind it, his hips slowing down ever so slightly. “Tell me I'm the only one.

You knew what he meant - tell me I'm the only one you’re sleeping with. You couldn’t help but find it ironic considering the man who was asking you that, knowing that he had probably made his way through the entire faculty, you were probably the last girl to check off his list. And if Matty had known that’s what you thought, he would be quick to tell you how that couldn’t be further from the truth. Yes, he had slept around, of course he did. But he hasn’t even thought about another girl since that night in your classroom.

“Only you.” You promise, tugging on his curls and clenching around him, desperate for him to fuck you with the pace he had set before. “Only ever you.”

Matty fucks animalistic now, fucking you so hard your body was shifting you up the wall.

“That’s right.” He groans. “My fucking girl, all for me, no one else will ever have you like I do.” You whine in agreement, tugging on his curls with one hand and digging your nails into his back with the other. “All for me, fucking made for me.” He repeats, holding you up with one arm and wrapping the other around your throat. “Made to take my cock.” He uses the leverage he had with his hand wrapped around your throat to lift your head off the wall an inch just to knock it back against the wall. You moan at the feeling. “And look how good you do it, baby, fuck.”

You preen at the praise, moaning freely and unashamed, hoping that the music was loud enough to drown out your mixed moans and the sound of skin slapping.

“Never had someone take my cock as well as you do, you’re so fucking good, such a good girl.” Your stomach rolls with jealousy as the reminder that he had been with other women, trying to focus on the fact that he was claiming you were the best instead of on the fact that he had a long list of people to compare you to. It proved to be easier than you thought, especially when Matty was quick to assure you. “My best girl.” He groans, locking eyes with you. “My only girl.”

You whine at that, at the idea that you belonged to him, that he belonged to you, clenching around him as whine after moans fell from your lips. His fingers tighten around your neck, cutting off your airway for a beat, heightening the feeling of his cock pounding into you before loosening the grip so you could gasp for air.

“My dirty girl.” His eyes darken, fucking you impossibly harder now. “Fucking filthy, greedy little slut clenching around my cock.” You whine, clenching around him again before you could stop yourself, he hisses at the feeling. “Look at you.” He coos. “I made you cum twice and you’re still begging for more.”

You couldn’t even find it in yourself to be ashamed, not when Matty was fucking you like this, not when he was bringing a hand around your waist to rub two fingers over you sensitive, swollen clit. You gasp at the feeling, so overstimulated and drunk on the feeling that you have no shame in begging. “Please, Matty.” The sound of your breathy tone had Matty fucking you harder, faster, swirling his fingers around your clit at a pace that had your brain melting out of your ears. “I’m so fucking close.”

“I’ll give it to you.” Matty promises, tossing his head back in a groan when you clench around him while dragging your nails down his back. “Give you anything you want, everything you want.” Butterflies swarm at the thought, at the idea that maybe this wasn’t as surface level as you thought, maybe you weren’t the only one who wanted something deeper. “Just gotta ask for it, baby.” He reminds, hips stuttering to signal that he was just as close as you were. “Tell me what you want.”

“Wanna cum.” You whine, pitiful and broken, so desperate for it that you’d do anything to be falling apart again. “Please.”

“Yeah, of course you do.” Matty mocks with a strained laugh, groaning with fluttering eyes when you tug on his curls yet again. “William wouldn’t know what to do with such a greedy fucking slut like you, would he?”

The mention of the nerdy man from the earlier had your mind spinning, whining against the wall as Matty fucked you as if his life depended on it.

“He fucking wanted you, would have took you right there on that table if you had let him.” Matty seethes, fingers pinching your clit meanly before flying over the bud and hurdling you towards another mind numbing orgasm. “Poor boy, who’s gonna tell him it takes a filthy man to make you cum?”

“Matty.” You whine, thrashing against the wall, skin on fire and burning hotter with each thrust Matty fixed you with. The pool of heat in your stomach swirling like a hurricane just as Matty’s calloused fingertips did on your clit. “Please, fuck.”

“I told you earlier that I wasn’t gonna stop you.” Matty reminds, doubling his efforts on you and pulling a pleasured scream down from your toes. “Cum for me, princess, cum all over my fucking cock.” He groans at the feeling of you clenching around him, throbbing against him as you fall apart for the third time. “That’s it, good fucking girl, so good for me. Feel so good around me, fuck, where do you want me?”

Your body was shaking with the intensity and sensitivity of Matty still fucking you to chase his own release, overstimulated and spent as you lay pliant against the wall and allow Matty to use you for his own pleasure.

“Inside.” You plea through pants, desperate to feel his cum dripping out of you again, a feeling you thought about countless times with your own hand between your thighs. “Please, want you to fill me up.”

“Fucking hell.” Matty groans, still rubbing mind numbing circles over your clit, heat prickling under your skin, barrelling quickly to the surface with how sensitive you were. “Gonna cum, princess, fuck.” He groans before spilling inside of you, the feeling of his load filling you up combined with his fingers still swirling over your bundle of nerves had you falling apart for a fourth and final time, tears pricking at your eyes and falling down your cheeks as you both come down from your high. “Fuck.”

You both fight to catch your breath, thankful for Matty’s ability to hold up your dead weight against the wall, knowing that you’re too spent and sore to stand on your own.

Matty leans down to fix you with a kiss much more tender than ones you’ve shared before, pulling off to lick at a stray tear on your cheek, staring down at you with gleaming eyes still full of desire and mixed with something unknown. “I wish everyone could see you right now.” Rolling his hips lazily, causing your body to jolt against the wall and a pitiful whine to tumble from your lips. “See how fucked out you are, so fucking pretty like this.” Leaning down to kiss you tenderly once more, mumbling against your mouth. “Pretty all the time.”

You smile into the kiss, twirling one of his curls around your finger and tugging on it slightly, allowing the butterflies to fly freely in your stomach now. You didn’t care that you were falling for the man you were wrapped up in, not when he was looking down at you as if you were the only girl in the world.

But you weren’t, in fact, you weren’t even the only girl in the building. The reminder that the two of you were in public, in a space full of coworkers and students had your eyes widening and panic start to settle in your chest. “Oh my god, how am I supposed to go back out there.”

You knew you looked as fucked out as you felt. Your dress was wrinkled, eyes glassed over, mascara tears drying on your cheeks, hair knotted from being fucked against the wall. There was no way you’d be able to walk about there without every single person knowing what happened in this closet.

Matty smiles, a mischievous grin that had you narrowing your eyes at him. “Oh, you don’t know?”

You squint your eyes further, tilting your head to the side. “What?”

“That you’re not feeling very well.” He comments off handedly, shrugging. His mischievous smile turned into a full blown grin now. “Must have picked up the stomach bug from one of your students, I had to take you home an hour ago.”

You gawk at him, trying to wrack your brain around what he was saying to you and smacking his shoulder when it finally hit you. “You told everyone that I was sick?”

“Yeah, only reason I wasn’t right on your heels when you came to the closet.” He shrugs, you could tell by the look on his face that he was feeling quite proud of himself. “Knew I was gonna tear you apart and you wouldn’t be able to come back.” He smiles, cocky and arrogant. You roll your eyes at the sight. He snorts, pinching your hip and teasing. “You’re welcome.”

“Please.” You scoff. “So why did we fuck in this tiny closet when we had the freedom to leave and go somewhere less,” You cut yourself off to glance around at the dingy closet full of cleaning supplies, choosing your words carefully before settling on. “public.”

“Because,” Matty drew the word out, leaning in to kiss you, mumbling against your lips. “I wanted everyone to know who you belong to before I take you home and fucking ruin you.”

#good fucking lord #need a sleazy dirty filthy man so bad #oh my GOD😭😭😭😭#recs

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#need him #george daniel

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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.”

#well OKAY #i’m blushing #need him wtf mads u kill it every single fucking time😭😭😭#recs

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