#Matty healy x you
Note
lenaaaaaa god help me I’m so high rn I’m thinking about mpind matty pole dancing ans also giving girlie a lap dance fhis isnt good or my health I think
dont be shy pass the spliff
also mpind comeback after a bunch of wank everyone be happy x
Love me - Matty Healy
A/N: bit wanky, barely spell checked except for @beforeyougo-turnthebiglightoff 's weird sim reactions to whatever i write. Legend anon i hope this is filthy enough for you my love xx
wc: 4.5k
content warnings: smut, fluff, tw: my shitty comedy, handjobs, strip clubs, its george's birthday!!, begging, teasing, lap dance, matty in lingerie pt. 43, mentions of alcohol, lots of swearing, cumplay, grinding, it gets a bit sappy guys soz, sub!Matty
“A strip club? Are you never scared of being a cliché?” you scoff as the venue comes into view, strobing neon flashing in your face. The summer night is warm, a breeze kissing your skin as the gravel crackles under your feet, your quite high heels still not making you taller than George.
His birthday, the big one eight, was today, and his chosen place was of course, a local strip club.
“If that cliché is seeing half naked girls, no.” he sniggers, Matty’s bickering with Ross and Hann faintly heard behind you. You hook your arm into his as you approach the bouncer, the line surprisingly short.
“I forget you're an actual man sometimes.”
“How can you possibly forget?!” he lets go, flexing his muscles at you as some sort of display of masculinity, making you giggle behind your hand.
Matty takes this ample opportunity to swoop in from behind, pressing the side of his body up against yours. The four of you watch George proudly present his real I.D to the bouncer, a wide smile on his face as he takes it from him. The bloke gives him a weird once-over, waving him and the rest through without a hitch.
It's bright inside, but not in the way you would assume. Different colored lights strobe around, switching every 20 seconds or so, the heavy bass of the music thrumming through your veins. Matty hangs on your arm as you look around, George immediately booking it to a booth with a stage as the table, wanting the best front row seat to the show. You roll your eyes at his eagerness, but then again, who could blame him?
Everyone files into the booth, George ending up wedged in the corner of the seating, uncomfortable but glass he could stretch his legs out under the table.
“Round of pints on me, happy birthday G. '' Everyone cheers, excluding Hann, who glares at Matty from across the table.
“Oh so now you have money? What about last week?” Ross lets out a quiet snigger, liking this turn of events.
“Shut up you cunt, it's G’s birthday! Lighten up a bit, old man.”
“Matty when I get my fucking hands on you-” Ross to the rescue, he presses a hand to his mate’s chest, keeping him seated.
“Alright girls, break it up.” he gives up, mouthing a curt ‘fuck you’ at Matty, rolling his eyes.
The waitress returns from the bar, bringing a platter of glasses with her. She sets them down, smiling at you before walking away, the neon lights of the club making her eyes shimmer.
“Cheers, happy 18th mate.” Matty plants a wet kiss on George’s face, making him squirm away in disgust.
“Get off you grade A wanker, your girl’s right there.” You blow him a kiss as Matty turns to you, licking a fat stripe up the side of your face, from your jaw to your cheekbone. Everyone at the table groans at his odd display of affection, Ross dramatically shielding his eyes and muttering incoherently as Matty finally sits back down, downing the rest of his pint.
Sure enough, right in the middle of Hann’s interesting story about his last date, a dancer comes over to the table. She climbs up, eyeing George, twirling around the pole a few times before doing this flip you didn't even know was humanly possible. The bralette she’s wearing glimmers in the light, reflecting off and into your eyes, distracting you.
George stares blatantly, eyes raking up and down her body as she dances, not letting her leave his line of sight. It's so obvious and she smirks at him, turning her body to face his direction before bending over, exposing her cleavage even more.
“Don't be a knob.” you hiss, not wanting to seem rude.
“She’s fit and it's quite literally her job!” a small laugh escapes the woman as she goes to speak, flattered at the exchange.
“It’s alright love, look all you want.”
“See!” George shouts a bit too loudly, proud of his correctness in strip club etiquette.
You sigh, nodding at her as Matty pokes your side.
“She is fit.” you whisper quietly, gesturing to her. Matty perks up, shoving you in offense.
“I'm fitter, don't forget.” you giggle at the statement, refusing to give him the satisfaction of agreeing with him.
“She’s literally sparkling, I need to know what brand that is.” The rhinestone adorned lingerie set she was wearing captivated everyone at the table, hugging her curves in all the right places.
“Who’s to say I'm not either?” your eyes widen slightly at the implication, but you brush him off.
“Shut it, don't be a tosser.” his hand grips yours right before he speaks, bringing it down to the waistband of his jeans.
“I’m not.”
He uses your fingers to pull it down about an inch, revealing a pretty string of purple under his bottoms. Your breath hitches at the realization, eyes snapping up to meet his. Was he serious? Now?
“It’s George’s birthday.” you state, voice hushed so the others could overhear your conversation. Hann was already off to buy another round, leaving Ross and George to make ‘friendly’ conversation with the dancer, shamelessly staring at her tits the entire time.
“He won't mind, just look at him.”
Sure enough, George is ogling the dancer, lips parted and being such a boy it hurts. She’s clearly enjoying the attention as he leans forward, stuffing a wad of cash into the flimsy waistband of her thong, smirking.
“He’s already imagining a future with her, look!”
She sets a paper crown on his head with the words ‘birthday boy’ on it, giving him a small kiss on the cheek. A boyish blush spreads onto George’s face as her kiss leaves a mark of lipstick, Ross quickly snapping a photo of him to take the piss when they left.
“He desperately needs a lay, it's sad.” you comment, knowing it had been ages since his last girlfriend or even hookup, too focused on his coursework and music to go out more than the few times you forced him to.
“So do I, so I'd prefer it if we didn't drag this out.”
Matty gets up, climbing over you despite your quite loud protests, announcing his trip to the dance floor. You wait a few moments before following him, the sway of his hips and faint back muscles under his mesh shirt flexing as he walks, convincing you to just go with it, hoping whatever he had planned wasn't totally scandalous and wouldn't get you kicked out of the place.
He turns right past the dance floor, leading you into a narrow corridor off to the side. You catch up to him, close behind him as he slips a dancer some cash, nodding as he makes his way to the door at the end of the hall. Matty rushes in before you, the door almost slamming in your face. ‘Private room’ flashes back at you in yellow neon, making you raise your eyebrows.
The room is dark for the first few seconds as you hear Matty shuffling. Suddenly, the room lights up, giant mirrors covering the walls and ceiling, reflecting the light back and forth. You glance around, eyes landing on Matty.
A tall pole is the centerpiece of the room, pink metal running from the floor to the ceiling. Matty leans on it, left hand wrapping around it as he spins, smirking at you as you watch him, something stirring inside of you.
“Did you plan this?” you ask, a skeptical look on your face.
“Maybe.” his fingers run up his chest, playing with his nipples right in front of you. His voice drips with lust, coating your mind with only a few words, making it difficult to get even semi-coherent sentences out.
“Jesus, you're mental.” you gasp softly as he moves, fluid and sure, captivating you with every change of direction.
“But you love me, now sit.” you listen, not knowing what else you were meant to do in this situation. The chair is soft, cushions letting you settle in comfortably.
“Everything is so pink.” you mutter, gesturing to the mirror frames and pole, every surface some variation of the same color.
“Sort of the point, yeah? To set the mood.” he smirks, trailing his hands up his waist, letting his nails graze against his skin, mimicking the same thing you do to him.
“Mood for what?”
“You’ll see, be patient.” you roll your eyes at his words, the palms of your hands rubbing against the soft pillow of your chair.
“That's rich.”
“Please, for me?” He sounds so sweet, like he was asking you to bring him a glass of water, not to stay still while he touched himself in front of you.
“We both know I can't deny you.”
“How true.” he sucks in a deep breath, throwing his head back as he holds eye contact.
“Watch.”
“What do I-?” you stutter over your words, your heart beating rapidly against your chest as he feels himself up, fingers ghosting over his tattoos.
“Me, keep your eyes on me.”
He turns his attention back to the pole next to him, strutting around it as the music from the dancefloor dictates his movements, his back pressed to the cool metal. Matty parts his lips as he slides down it, running a hand over his chest performatively, watching your every reaction.
Your breathing becomes more shallow as he moves, thousands of fantasies running through your mind. He knows the effect he has on you, everything he does is purely to rile you up, make you lose your composure.
“You’re mad, this is-” he cuts you off with a sly smile.
“Incredibly hot? I’d rather you enjoy the show than talk over it.” you scrunch up your face at the implication that this was a performance, even if you did expect nothing less from Matty.
“Show?”
He runs a hand through his slightly messed up hair, showing off his neck as you stare at him, biting your lip between your teeth to keep from embarrassing yourself.
“I hate you.” you mumble as the music changes, some hip-hop song coming on. The faint cheers of the people outside are barely audible, but it serves to remind of just where you were. The guys were still at the table, most likely speculating the reason as to why the two of you have been missing that long, Ross surely already making crude comments that neither Hann nor George wanted to think about.
“You won't if you just wait.” you grip the edge of your seat, blushing profusely as he struts over to you, wrapping his arms around your neck. His breath is hot against your neck, leaning over you as he settles into your lap. You finally clock it.
“Stay still.” he ‘orders’, attempting to mimic the way you speak to him when he doesn't listen.
“Are you giving me a lap dance?” he frowns at you, shaking his head in disappointment. A chuckle escapes you as the reality of the situation dawns on you.
“No need to define it darling, let it be abstract.” of course he’d say something like that, try to salvage the ‘artistic’ affair, failing miserably.
“You’re giving me a fucking lapdance, christ.” it's genuinely amusing. Your heart swells up at the thought of all the effort that went into this. Paying off the dancer with god only knows how much money, turning you on at the table just enough so you’d follow him, and probably even setting up the lighting in the room himself.
“You're such a bore, let me have my fun.” he kisses you, giggling into your mouth. His lips are warm against yours, your lip gloss rubbing off on him. “Oh, I will.” you promise, letting your hands fall limp as he grips your shoulders, rocking his hips back and forth. His movements are exact, practiced even as he grinds down onto you before lifting his body back up, bringing his hip tattoo up to eye level.
You don't think, mind clouded with desire and want. His shirt had ridden up a bit, and your rough tongue drags across the inked skin, warm against it as he shudders, feeling his cock twitch in his pants at the sensation.
“No touching the dancers” he tuts, coming back down on top of you.
“I’m exempt from that rule.” you say, your voice surprisingly steady despite the white hot heat pooling between your legs.
“According to whom?”
“You.”
You let your hands settle onto his waist, gripping him so hard you were sure there’d be bruises the next day.
“Fuckk, yeah okay,” he groans, the pressure on the front of his jeans increasing as all the blood in his head rushes south, his mind hazy.
“C’mon baby, finish your little performance.”
He moves to get off, smirking as you let him. You can see indents in his skin where you grabbed him, the sight making your breath hitch. He circles around you like a predator does his prey, wrapping his arms around you from behind.
His hands trail up your chest, fingers grazing over your exposed collarbones. Your skin flushes under his touch and you let out a soft moan at the feeling, earning a proud smile from Matty.
“You’re so gorgeous. I have to force myself to not get hard whenever you look at me.” his voice is sultry against your ear, making goosebumps bloom on the skin of your neck.
“Oh, way to exaggerate.” you snigger, not quite believing him.
“Honest truth.” he swears, instinctively doing the ‘scouts honor’ sign with his hand.
You snort, your little giggling fit interrupted by his mouth trailing sickly sweet kisses up your neck and to your jaw.
It doesn't take him long to make his way back around, your heart skipping a beat when he comes back into view. His chest is glistening with sweat, the warm temperature of the room clearly getting to him. Most notably, you notice the front of his jeans is unbuttoned and unzipped, flaring out on both sides, revealing almost the entirety of the silky, purple panties he had chosen to wear.
He relishes in your reaction, the attention making his ego grow exponentially as he moves back into your lap. Your hands trail up his chest, doing your best to not immediately pay attention to the underwear. You can't resist, though.
“These are new.” you toy with the thin straps, silk reflecting the colored light beautifully. You can see a note of pride ripple through him as you admire the material, grazing his cock through it.
“Got them just for you, you like?” The question is so obviously rhetorical. Of course you like, no, love them.
“So much.” your words are laced with love, soft and appreciative of all the effort he puts into getting you off, fulfilling your fantasy.
The way he looks at you is sinful, thoughts dancing behind his eyes visible as he stares, waiting for your next move.
He lets out a soft groan when you push him down into your thigh, biting his lip at you provocatively. “You're hard.” you smile as you say the words, his gaze softening when he sees the blissed out look at your face, eyes raking over his body. Even (almost) fully clothed, he was absolutely beautiful.
“See? Wasn't lying.” he presses a kiss behind your left ear, gently moving your hair out of the way. It’s loving, so honest.
“You sure it's not because of the mirror behind me?” you still cant help but tease him, gesturing to the giant mirror your back was facing. He blushes in response, stealing a glance at his reflection.
“You’re so cruel! I’ll just stop then, seeing as all you see me as is some egotistical deviant.” he threatens, crossing his arms over his chest in retaliation. You bring a hand up to cup his face, stroking his cheek softly, almost patronizing. Your mind swims with the power you have over him.
“You wont stop, you couldn't if you tried.” For the first time that evening, you call his bluff, the way he reacts to you exquisite as his lips part, no words coming out. Silence fills the room, even the music on the other side of the door seeming to die down. How long have the two of you been here?
“Am i right?” you question, not letting him off the hook like you usually would.
“..yeah–” his words are small, and you know you have him right where you want him. The lightest, slightest touch could send him hurtling over the edge, his hips rutting desperately into your hand as you palm him through his underwear.
“So pretty for me, doing all of this. Thank you baby.” you whisper into his ear as he gasps under your touch. It's so incredibly intimate that you can't help but drop your facade for a few seconds, kissing him sweetly, his lips moving against yours with desperation.
“Anything for you.”
“Anything?”
“Mhm.”
You take his cock out of the confines of his underwear, a sigh of relief falling from his parted lips as your fingers ghost over the tip, teasing him.
“Just stay still, let me make you feel good.” you murmur, feeling him up under his shirt, your nails digging into the skin of his back. He shifts on top of you, his body yearning for your touch.
“Please.”
You reach down to wrap your manicured fingers around his cock, the sight of the pretty colors of your nails around him making his eyes roll back in his head, his mind spinning with all sorts of possibilities, mostly focused on not finishing right in that moment.
Tugging lazily on his cock, you drag your fingers from the base to the tip, a satisfying whimper spilling from Matty’s lips, the sound spreading through your entire body. His back arches against you and the kiss he presses against your mouth tastes like the cigarettes he chainsmoked on the way to the club, mixing deliciously with the hint of alcohol on his breath.
“Let go for me, feel it.”
He trembles, the noise he lets out is desperate, filthy, shooting straight to your core. Everything is heightened. You can feel his breath on your cheek as he leans forward into you, chest pressing against yours as you run your fist up and down his cock, small whimpers of pleasure spurring you on.
“Fuckk, that feels so good–”
Matty’s words are choked, his effort to hold back a bit obvious. He’s hungry, wanting, evident in the way he ruts into your hand, his fingers digging into the skin of your shoulders, the sharp pain making you sigh, pleased.
“Be nice and loud for me, let me hear you.” you coo into his ear, your free hand dragging up his back under his shirt, the mesh bunching up. “So good to me, treat me so well, god– shit.”
He twitches as you dig your thumb into his slit, a shiver spreading through his body
The way he’s not even undressed is obscene, the fabric of his jeans gathering under his hips as he’s perched on top of you, feet planted firmly on the floor for leverage. You watch him, engrossed in pleasure, completely blissed out expression on his face. His head is thrown back, exposing his pale neck, faded hickeys and marks still visible from your last encounter.
“You're staring” he breathes, your eyes snapping up to meet him. A filthy grin tugs at the corners of his lips, your focus on him and only him. His hair falls over his face, obscuring it slightly, much to your disdain.
“You're giving me reason to” you brush curls out of his face as your movements still, letting him speak properly, uninterrupted.
“Yeah, I want you to look at me.”
You smile lovingly, cocking your head slightly to the left as you tease him, one of your fingers twirling his hair.
“Gets you off, my attention?” he doesn't even try to deny it, knowing it wouldn't get him anywhere.
“Mhm-m” he nods, panting. His chest heaves with every breath he takes, silently begging you to continue.
His hips stutter as you grip his cock tighter, your other hand stroking his face sweetly as you stare into each other's eyes, his face flush as pornographic moans spill from his lips. His back arches again, your bodies pressed against each other as your hand snakes between the two of you.
“F-fuck, i’m so close, please let me cum, please.” His voice is high-pitched and whiny, tears threatening to spill at the overwhelming pleasure.
“You beg so nicely, let me hear you baby.” you whisper words of encouragement as his hips buck up into your hand involuntarily, every ounce of self control in him dissipating.
“I need it so bad, please i've been so good for you.”
He hiccups in a way that almost makes you feel bad, his desperation so obvious. You speed up a bit, just a bit, giving him that sweet, sweet relief he’s been begging for for god knows how long now.
“P-please, oh fuck, yesyesyes fuck.” precum bubbles at the tip of his cock, and you smear it down, coating him in his own arousal. It's unbelievably hot, his entire body twitching at the sight of your fingers on his cock, a sight he desperately tries to commit to memory.
“You’re leaking all over my hand darling, so filthy.” he whines into your neck, and you lick across his jaw, making him shiver
“Make a mess, c’mon, come for me.” an animalistic groan fills your ears as he rapidly approaches his orgasm, writhing under your touch.
“Y-yeah– fuck thats so good, your hand feels so good, fucking made for me.”
Matty’s possessive nature made your head spin with lust, his eyeliner smudging down his face as he stares into your eyes with such an intensity it felt like he was going to consume you.
His skin glows under the soft pink lighting, making him seem ethereal, like a true angel. His noises are like music to your ears as he spills into your hand, spurts of cum coating your bare stomach, barely missing your (quite expensive) cropped shirt. Matty kisses you immediately after, hands threading through your hair as he drinks you in, stealing your breath straight from your lungs.
Wordlessly, one of his hands moves down, gathering the remnants of his orgasm onto two fingers, tapping your mouth with the other. You indulge him, parting your lips to let him push his digits past them, the salty taste of him taking over your senses. His pupils are completely blown out in desire, not able to process what was happening in front of him, a loopy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, his eyes crinkling in that way that made your heart swell up with love
“Perfect.” he mumbles as you lick his fingers clean, smiling mischievously at his dazed gaze. Matty pulls you in, holding you close, desperate to not let go.
—---------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Where were you two?” Ross’s voice is accusatory as the two of you finally return to the booth, the dancer from before having already left. A faint blush spreads onto your cheeks as the memories of not 20 minutes go flash through your mind. Hann doesn't help your situation at all.
“Probably shagging, just look at him.” your head turns, seeing Matty’s blissed out expression, a content smile replacing his usual nasty grin. You elbow him in the ribs, a silent plea to say something, but he promptly ignores your silent begging.
“Shut up you dickhead, you don't know shit.”
George points at Matty, now grinning wildly, reminiscing about the events of tonight. He’s oddly calm, which would be concerning if it wasn't for the monstrous case of post-sex hair he currently had
“Jesus, what did you even do to him?” George is taking the absolute piss out of you, and for good enough reason.
“I don't kiss and tell.” you attempt to change the conversation topic as you settle back into the booth, commenting on the pint glasses. You're ignored in favor of laughing at you further while matty remains completely unbothered, the glow he emitted so fucking obvious it hurt.
“Well he sure does, I've heard much more than necessary.” Ross sniggers, pulling a face at the not-so-distant memory of Matty’s sex bonfire-storytelling session that had happened a few weeks prior (not at an actual bonfire, but on the floor of your living room, completely pissed while you were out with your girlfriends.)
“Did you at least wash your hands?” Hann asks, the question directed at Matty, whose hands were loosely wrapped around his nearly empty pint glass.
“Didn't have to.” he grins, waving his hands in Adam’s face proudly, like it was some sort of achievement.
“Oh fucking hell, too much info.” George groans, cupping his face in his hands at the mental image of what he thought had just happened. You laugh inwardly, the whole situation absurd. This was the furthest you had ever gotten in discussing anything relating to your relationship with Matty, and it honestly felt weird.
“I’m never touching you again mate, no fucking way.” Ross stated, a disgusted look on his face.
“Awwe Ross, how will you do without my touch?” You make grabby hands at him, climbing over George to drape yourself over the booth, touching his hair and face, Matty’s and Hann’s hysterical laughter spurring you on.
“GET OFF ME!!” he yells, clawing at you to push you away, absolutely mortified.
George, slightly more pissed than the rest of you, announces his mission to get the dancers number, swearing up and down that “She had this look in her eye, i’m so fucking serious.” he manages to stumble over his shoes about three times before finally standing up straight, brushing off any ‘dust’ (crisps) that clung to his raggedy band tee.
“Good luck mate, not that you need it.” Hann tries to be encouraging, knowing just as well as the rest of you how George got when he had a few too many pints. Terribly emotional and impulsive, there was no stopping him once he had his sights set on something, or in this case, someone.
“I definitely don't” he glares at you over his shoulder, strutting across the dance floor in direction of where he’d last seen her.
As he walks away, Ross sniggers.
“He definitely does.” and you can't help but giggle along as he trips over a stray stair, falling right onto his face. Hann goes to help him up, ignoring your collective jeers to “Stop ruining his chances at true love!”
With an ice pack pressed to his face, George can only roll his eyes at the various comments for the rest of the night, despite it being his birthday.
#good morning guys#its actually seven pm at night it just seemed fitting#the 1975#matty healy#george daniel#ross macdonald#adam hann#matty healy fanfiction#matty healy fanfic#matty healy smut#matty healy fic#matty healy x reader#matty healy fluff#truman black#matty the 1975#matty healy x y/n#matty healy x you#the 1975 fanfiction#the 1975 fanfic#the 1975 smut#the 1975 fic
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Family bonfire // Matty Healy x Reader
a/n: send me more requests, I love nothing more :) also I know it’s getting warmer and summer feeling but this gave me an autumn vibe.
summary: Matty and you spend some days with your family in your childhood house. Not only the fire gets hot in the evening ;)
content warning: 18+ smut, fingering,idiots totally in love, unprotected sex
based on this request
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As the sun dips below the horizon, casting a golden hue over the kitchen, you stand alongside your mum and sister, watching through the window as Matty and your dad work tirelessly to prepare the bonfire.
Your two brothers are running around the pile of logs, doing anything else besides helping both.
Every time Matty comes back with wood, he searches for your gaze in the window and every time he can catch a glance, he does.
You’re doing the dishes with your mum, while your sister is just sipping her green tea. You try to suppress a little giggle when Matty tries to wipe away the sweat with the sleeves of his brown cute lumberjack jacket.
Your mum glances at you, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "He's a good one, isn't he?" she remarks, her voice soft with affection.
You nod, your heart swelling with pride as you watch Matty and your dad laughing over something. “He really is,” you agree, a smile spreading across your face.
Your sister chimes in, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “And look at them bonding over chopping wood,” she teases, nudging you playfully.
“Dad wasn’t this open when I brought my boyfriend home,” she states. Your sister is only two years younger than you but she’s with her boyfriend for 5 years now. When she brought him home, your dad was skeptical if he would be the one.
With Matty it was different. It’s only the second time you’re together at your home and your dad seems to really like him. He hasn’t said any judgmental comments or asked him thousands of questions, which is always a good sign.
“That’s probably because he realized that the both of you have made great decisions.” You laughed because it’s definitely not the truth. Your dad just found it easier with Matty.
Together, you watch as Matty and your dad continue their work until the logs are stacked up perfectly. “Finally, come and help me get the chairs out,” your mum says to your sister. She takes the last sip of her tea and hands the cup to you.
Both leave the room and only seconds later Matty comes in, pulling the gloves off his hands, laying them on the table. “Hey lumberjack,” you giggle.
“Lumberjack? More like fucking legend,” he jokes, lifting his arms to show his biceps, walking towards you. “Had fun out there, especially with you watching me like a stalker.”
His hands find your waist, the coldness of his finders radiating to your body. You smack his chest at his comment, rolling your eyes in mock exasperation. "Please, you were practically posing out there," you retort, a teasing glint in your eye.
Matty tries to act offended, placing a hand over his heart. "I'll have you know, I take my wood-chopping very seriously," he declares, his tone overly dramatic.
You just laugh and get yourself a small kiss from his lips, humming as you pull away again.
As Matty's hands rest gently on your waist, you feel a shiver of anticipation run down your spine. His touch both comforting and electrifying, his fingers tracing gentle patterns along your sides, sending tingles of pleasure dancing across your skin. “Should we join them?” He asks, nodding towards the laughing people outside.
“In one minute,” you argue, wrapping your hands around his back, hugging him.
Matty chuckles, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your lower back. "clingy much?" he teases, his voice playful.
You leaned back slightly, meeting his gaze with a playful grin. "Can you blame me?" You reply, your tone light but sincere.
His lips curl into a fond smile, his eyes softening as he looks at you. "Not at all," he admits, leaning in to press a sweet kiss to your forehead.
You keep your head resting on his chest, meanwhile Matty watches as your dad tries to light the fire, the wind being a huge obstacle. “As much as I’m enjoying this, think we have to join your family.”
You groan as he removes his body from yours, kissing your cheek one more time to try to make this separation easier. He intertwines your fingers, walking outside the kitchen to join the others in the backyard.
“Matty,” your dad tells, “mind helping me light the fire?” He’s kneeling with a lighter and some tinder, to light the fire.
“Of course not,” you watch as Matty walks over to your dad, kneeling as well, holding his hands in front of the tinder, to keep the wind away.
Your other sister walks towards you with her boyfriends arms around her. In her hands, it’s Matty’s acoustic guitar. You look at her, lifting your eyebrows questioningly.
“Mum wants Matty to sing for us later,” she laughs, knowing it’s a bit awkward, “here.” She hands you the guitar, the material almost slipping through your hand. You lay it down gently against the wall, walking towards the chairs around the fire.
-
It’s 8pm when you’re all sitting around the fire, hands reaching out to the heat, trying to ignore the cold wind through your hair.
You pulled your chair right next to Matty’s so you can nuzzle into his comfortable jacket. “I can give you the jacket y’know?” He chuckles, his arm around your shoulder rubbing soothing circles into your arm.
You feel a warmth spreading through you, both from the jacket and the comforting presence of Matty beside you. "Nah, I like being close to you," you say, leaning into his touch.
Matty's smile widens, and he squeezes your shoulder gently. "Fair enough.”
Everyone’s busy talking, your mother discussing something with your sister, in their own world.
The fire lights up Matty’s face, his brown eyes glowing in the darkness.
You rest your head on Matty’s shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne mingled with the smoky aroma of the fire. "You know," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, "my mum really likes you."
Matty pulls back slightly, a surprised smile spreading across his face. "She does?" he asks, his eyes bright with curiosity.
You nod, a fondness shining in your eyes. "Yeah, she said you're the right one," you admit, feeling a surge of warmth at the memory of her mum's words.
Matty's smile widens, a hint of emotion tugging at the corners of his lips. "Well, I'm glad to hear that," he replies, his voice soft with sincerity. "Because I think her daughter’s the one for me”
Your heart swells at his words, his head leaning down to give you a soft peck which follows by gagging sounds of your 13 year old brother. You just flip him off, making Matty giggle.
Some time passed, the crackling of the bonfire filling the night air, casting a warm glow over the gathered family. Blankets are draped over shoulders, laughter echoe in the darkness, and the scent of roasting marshmallows mingle with the crisp autumn breeze. It is a scene straight out of a storybook, where time seems to stand still and worries melted away in the flickering light.
After your mums request, Matty sits on a weathered log, his acoustic guitar resting comfortably in his hands. His fingers dance effortlessly over the strings, producing melodies that seemed to weave themselves into the fabric of the night. His voice, rich and soulful, filling the air as he sings ‘be my mistake’, each note carrying the weight of emotion.
You feel a lump form in your throat as you listen to the haunting beauty of Matty's voice. The vulnerability in his tone sending shivers down your spine, and you can’t help but be moved by the raw honesty of his performance.
Some times when you’re asleep Matty sits down next to you, to sing to you. Most of the times, it’s be my mistake and it’s definitely one of your favorites.
“He's incredible," your sister murmured in your ear.
“Truly talented," you agree, nodding in appreciation.
And when the song comes to an end, the silence that followed is filled with whispers of awe and admiration.
You lean in close to Matty, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. "You were amazing," you whisper, your voice filled with love and pride.
Matty smiles, his eyes shining with gratitude. "Thanks, love," he replies, his voice barely audible over the crackle of the fire. "I'm just glad I could share it with all of you."
It’s already pretty late, your brother’s the first ones having to go to bed and you can’t wait to finally leave as well.
As the warmth of the bonfire envelope you, Matty can’t help but notice how close you are every second. He leans in, a playful smirk playing on his lips. "You're awfully cuddly today," he remarks, his voice low and teasing.
His hand finds your thigh, squeezing it slightly, his touch driving you insane. You shudder and give him a look. “Matty,“ you mutter, trying to free your thigh from his grip but he’s very persistent.
You let your eyes trace over his profile; the strong, curved line of his nose, dark stubble that’s flecked with a little grey. He thinks it makes him look distinguished. He catches you watching him out of the corner of his eye and squeezes your thigh again, kneading the flesh there.
You shift in the seat, open your legs wider, encouraging him to move higher. You think about pressing your lips against the juncture of his throat, inching your own hand over the front of his jeans, wondering if he’s already half hard. “In front of your family?” He tuts, “you know better.”
You look around, making sure no one is aware of the scene, when you lean in, whispering in his ear. “Take me inside,” you lean back, watching his eyes go dark before whispering a quiet ‘please.’
You bite your lip, almost letting out a whine when his hands leaves your thigh, to run it through is curls. “Fucks sake,” he mutters, “you were the one telling me I need to behave, and what now?”
It’s true. Before you left the car you told him he cannot hit on you in front of your family and he didn’t but it’s slowly driving you crazy, missing his touch.
He turns his head away from you when your sister’s boyfriend starts talking to him about tour. It is the subtle tension in his demeanor, the vein pulsating on his neck as he speaks, that draws your attention.
With a sudden impulse, you reach out and gently take Matty's hand, guiding it to rest on your thigh beneath the cover of darkness. His fingers tighten around yours, a silent acknowledgment passing between you as his gaze briefly meet yours, a spark of understanding flickering in the depths of his eyes.
“Behave,” he whispers, when your brother isn’t looking, too busy searching for his phone. You just stick your tongue at him, making him roll his eyes.
You fake a yawn, followed by you standing up, grabbing Matty’s hand, forcing him to stand up. “I think we’ll head to bed.” Matty glares at you, shaking his head in disbelief, a smile never leaving his mouth though. You thank your parents for everything and say your goodnight when you finally make your way into the house.
“You’re unbelievable you know that?” He says, following you into your room. The second the door is closed, you press him against the door, crashing your lips onto his. You don’t let him say anything else while you get rid of his jacket and his shirt under, tracing your hands all over his chest.
“Christ,” he groans, feeling your hands squeeze his bulge, “what’s gotten into you?”
You lead him to the bed but as fast as you’re on top of him the faster he has you on your back. “Are you out of your mind?” You bite down on his shoulder, “baby-“ he groans, pushing your head away from him. “C’mon, you know these walls are thin.”
You groan, knowing he’s right and you definitely don’t want an essay from your parents about how you should act. “Then be quiet, it’s not my fault you decided to touch my thigh and give me ‘fuck me’ eyes.” You roll your eyes dramatically.
“Fu- darling, can’t even look at you anymore without you getting all hot and bothered?” He smirks, “besides, we both know you can’t be quiet.”
“But I can,” it doesn’t come out as convincing as you wanted it too and Matty just raises his eyebrows, “c’mon just try okay? And when I’m not quiet we can stop.”
You place a hand on Matty’s chest. It’s crazy, but you can feel his heart pounding; the heavy rise and fall of his breath. He looks at you for a second, his lips on yours again. His hands finding your zipper and button of your jeans, opening them. He removes himself from you, pulling your pants down in one swift movement, then your panties.
His lips scrape against yours, parting so you can slip your tongue inside. Your lungs have left your body, leaving a hollow space in your chest, making it impossible for you to breathe. You feel lightheaded. But oh, the way he’s biting at your lips; tangling a hand in your hair and pressing against you. His leg is between your thighs and you practically melt on it, trying to grind on it, but he holds you down.
“Where did your patience go huh?” Your legs open to wrap around his waist. Matty groans, wanting to feel friction as well, grinding into your core one time.
He brings a finger to his lips; fixes you with a gaze that shows he’s serious. Be quiet. “I love nothing more than hearing you moan for me, not tonight love, be quiet okay?” You nod and gives you a kiss for your understanding.
You throw your head back and close your eyes. If you look at him for another second, you’re not going to be able to stop yourself from moaning. Even with the simplest gestures, he drives you crazy. You feel Matty reach his hand down between your legs. “Fuck,” you whisper.
Two seconds in and he has you gasping for breath. If you were wet before, you’re positively dripping now. You dare to crack open your eyes. Matty’s face is stoic with concentration, fixating on you, trying to make you stay quiet, and you can’t believe how incredibly turned on it makes you. He bites his lip slightly, and you think you might pass out. Looking was a mistake, but you can’t tear your eyes off him.
“What am I gonna do with you?” His thumb is rubbing your clit, while his fingers pump in and out of you, leaving you gasping, suppressing your moans, “you’re dirty, can’t even stay a few days without me having to make you cum.”
You ride his fingers until you forget your own name, and you already feel the coil tightening inside you. You grab Matty’s shoulders, pulling him to lean down over you. He kisses you. Rough and sloppy and frantic. You let out the smallest whimper into his mouth as you cum, hard, clamping your legs around his fingers. “Didn’t know you can fucking listen,” his words are mean, teasing but his kisses say otherwise, praising you for being good.
“You’d do anything to cum,” he gets up, undressing his pants and getting rid of his boxers, only to be on top of you after only seconds, “can stay quiet again right? Can show me how good you can be?”
He puts a hand on your waist to steady you, and you feel him line up with your entrance. It takes everything not to scream as he slides into you. “Shh, love, you were a fucking beg, now take it.”
The stretch is intoxicating. You haven’t even recovered from your orgasm, but just the sight of him pausing after he’s buried inside of you, needing to collect himself, breathing hard. It’s enough to make you ache. “Please Matty.”
Matty is fucking into you, careful at first to stay quiet, but getting sloppier every second. He can’t pull out all the way for fear of slapping too loudly against your thighs, but the result is an incredible friction that has you soaring. You grab at his shoulders, his neck, and Matty lets you. When the pleasure has you tear open your eyes, you catch him watching you again. Enjoying the way you fall apart on his cock. It makes you clench around him even harder, and you catch the faintest whisper of a curse fall out of his lips as he leans forward, dropping his head to the crook of your neck. “Fuck,” you half whisper, half moan.
His eyes shoot up, ready to punish you if you are loud again. “Fuck, fuck,” you whisper into his ear.
“You have a filthy mouth,” you moan at his statement, not being able to hold it in anymore and the second another moan threading to leave your mouth, a hand is slapped over your mouth, the side of it slotting just under your teeth. Your heart pounds as Matty leans in to whisper to you again. “Bite down if you need to, don’t make another fucking sound.”
He continues to thrust inside of you, his body somehow lowering to get even closer to yours. When he has gotten sufficiently near, he presses a kiss to the side of your mouth—now stuffed with his hand and leaking spit—and mutters something about how good you are for him, how nicely you fit around his cock.
Then he tilts his hips and proceeds to pound you into the bed like an animal in heat. Your ankles lock behind his back, and his nose settles next to yours, breathing hard.
He couldn’t be more in awe seeing you veer close to the edge, again. “C’mon, cum for me.”
Then, he doesn’t sink so much as simply collapse on top of you while you both kicked back and let the waves of ecstasy roll over you. You adore his warmth in spite of the heat practically suffocating you both in that car. Matty scrunches his nose up, ripping his hand out of your mouth, a bite mark very visible and some blood dripping down.
“Fuck, sorry,” you apologize, taking his hand, gazing at the wound you created. “Don’t be, did what I told you to.”
You reach for a tissue and try to clean his hand, Matty hissing every second the fabric touches his hand. “You’re a fucking bear with those teeth.”
You giggle, the sound is replaced by a whine when Matty pulls out of you. “Told you I can stay quiet,” you wink, pulling him in for a kiss.”
“We can be very lucky if no one gives us shit tomorrow,” it’s not regret in his voice but more like a thrilling sound. He loved the secret.
“Mhm, very lucky,” your sentence has a double meaning and Matty understands it immediately, laughing before grabbing his shirt, pulling it over your head.
“Your mind is in the fucking gutter love,” he walks to the drawer to but on a pair of boxers before picking you up. “Use the bathroom, I’ll be waiting.” You smile and waddle over to the bathroom, your legs still shaking and Matty watching you with a goofy grin on his face.
#the 1975#ross macdonald#matty healy#george daniel#adam hann#the 1975 fic#matty healy smut#matty healy x you#matty healy fluff#matty healy x reader#matty healy imagine#matty healy oneshot#you do make me hard but she makes me weak
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Body piercer! Matty part 2
Part 1 , Part 3
WE ARE SO BACKKK!! and, as promised, with filth
Fem! reader
Contains: Meet cute date, ADHD brain dork Matty, Matty being a boob guy, piercing play, praise, Matty’s pierced tongue <3, possessiveness, oral sex (f receiving), touch of spit play, titty fucking, cum play?, finger sucking
Word count: 5,092
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PART TWO- You've been set up on a blind date with the gorgeous man who pierced your nipples. Surprise!
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You’re not entirely sure whether to call this a cruel joke or a goddamn blessing, it may be too soon to tell as the both of you just stare at each other. In order to identify him, you were informed that your date would be wearing some metal band t-shirt. To ensure you weren’t being delusional, you glanced down to see that that was exactly what he had on, along with that same chain he’d worn the day you met. Matty looks like he’s doing the exact same thing, trying to figure out if this is some odd coincidence, or if you’d really been set up on a date together. There’s no question that when your eyes meet a second time, you both know it’s the latter. He approaches the table slowly, a charming smile of disbelief on his lips, like he’d run into an old friend. You’re pretty sure your expression is more one of shock and denial that you’re face to face with the man who’s already seen your tits and watched you cry when he pierced them. Together, those practically add up to third base.
“Now, this is a surprise. I remember you, you came into the shop a few weeks back, yeah?” he says before cocking his head towards the empty seat in front of you, “May I?”
You’re silent for a couple of seconds like your mouth hasn’t caught up with your brain. Mentally kicking yourself, you shake your head quickly to get out of the haze. You motion for him to sit down, sputtering out a “Hi, yes, of course!”, likely sounding all too eager. He shoots an amused glance at you before settling in across from you, his eyes darting across the room for a few moments as a testament to his overactive mind. You feel an unexplainable rush when those gentle brown eyes finally settle on you, stifling any effort your brain was making to try and come up with something to say. Silence. Dry-mouthed, you land on:
“... is this too awkward of a situation?”
“I dunno. It’s only awkward if you make it awkward,” he shrugs, but he seems equally unsure about how to navigate this, “I don’t think it’s awkward.”
Awkward is starting to no longer feel like a real word the more it’s said.
“Right…” you trail off, your eyes starting to drift to the floor.
Suddenly, Matty snaps his fingers, his eyes widening like he’s just gotten the best idea ever, making your gaze flick back to him with surprise.
“Okay, how’s this: we pretend we’ve never met and I’ve never seen your… erm, you get the idea. Right, ready?” he explains rapidly, now holding his hand out to you enthusiastically, “Hello, I’m Matty, it’s lovely to meet you, you look very nice.”
You laugh with disbelief at his sudden burst of energy, tentatively reaching to hold his hand in return, giving it a firm shake. Maybe this won’t be so uncomfortable after all.
“Hi Matty,” you smile, offering your name in return before letting go of his hand, feeling some of the tension melt away from your rigid posture.
“Good, now that’s out of the way. I’d really like to know more about you if that’s okay, pretty stranger I’ve never met before,” he grins, leaning his head against his hand like he’s preparing to pay full attention to whatever you tell him.
You do just that, and he nods along, interjecting occasionally with his own anecdotes. You learn a lot of things about Matty too over the course of the date. One of them is that when he really gets going about something, he stammers because he talks so fast. Little details that only make you find him more charming. It’s funny how quickly he turned from what felt like a figment of your imagination to something tangible. He’s no longer just the face of your fantasy, the depth of his personality is immense, you can tell just from the short time you’ve spent together. You find yourself more curious about him than anyone you’ve ever met. You want to tear him open.
Conversations flow freely, there’s nothing strained about the date, you can tell he feels the same, his pretty brown eyes shining with mirth, crinkled at the corners when he laughs. The drinks you’d ordered are long finished and paid for (by him, at his insistence) by the time the lively chatting starts winding down into a comfortable quiet.
“Y’know, I did kinda hope I’d see you again,” he says softly, almost shyly as he breaks the silence between you.
“Yeah, I did too. I’ve thought about it a little too much, probably,” you chuckle, your cheeks warming at his sentimental admission.
“Are we done pretending we’re strangers now?” he smiles, a toothy, boyish smile.
“I think we are, yeah. If so, can I ask why you didn’t ask me out that day?” you ask, getting right to the heart of the matter.
Matty looks up at the ceiling for a moment, his lips pressing together into a thin line as he tries to conjure an excuse but comes up blank, fidgeting with the silver chain around his neck.
“I don’t really know. Well, I think part of it was that I was supposed to be takin’ care of you, in a way? Like, you were in my hands, I didn’t want to weird you out, be the creep that pierces your tits then asks you on a date. Especially cause you didn’t want a bloke piercing you in the first place, d’you know what I mean?” he rambles, making many big motions with his hands, “and… I dunno, you’re very pretty.”
His voice lowers with a shrug on the last part like it’s a secret just between you and him, looking a little hesitant like he believes he’s just bared too much of himself to you. God, he’s fucking lovely.
“I get it, Matty,” you nod, reaching for one of his hands that’s resting on the table.
Matty nods back at you slowly, seeming to be processing the way you’re not put off by his talkative tendencies. He turns his hand over to properly hold yours, giving it a squeeze to show his appreciation. He doesn’t say anything, but you can tell it means a lot to him that you listen to him.
“Well,” he starts, clearing his throat, “I still ended up on a date with you anyway. Pretty fucking mint.”
“Yeah, pretty fucking mint,” you repeat with a snort.
Matty glances around the cafe, noticing the bustling of the staff cleaning tables and starting to put away the baked goods. Have you really been there that long?
“I suppose they’re starting to close up…” he notes, sounding a little deflated that your date is coming to an end.
“Looks like it,” you hum, fidgeting with your empty cup.
“Can I walk you home, maybe?” he offers, a bit of hope sparking in his sleepy eyes.
Your heart skips a beat at his proposition. It’s not much, but it’s certainly something that could lead to more. The chemistry between you is palpable, neither of you wants this to end; it’s a recipe for the best kind of trouble.
You leave the cafe together with Matty at your side, his hands shoved in his pockets as you lead the way. The walk is quiet, but you can tell his mind is racing with just a glance, he’s fidgeting with something in his pockets with slightly furrowed eyebrows. He’s so cool, but you’d never imagined him to be so hyperactive, it’s a wonder that he keeps his hands so steady when he works. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think it was endearing, finding yourself wondering what was going on in that head of his. Before you can even open your mouth to ask, he starts to tell you a story about his job, prattling on while including a bunch of technical piercing terms that you know nothing about. You just gaze up at him, infatuated as you reach to cling to his arm the whole way back. You need this man (and his rambling) terribly.
“This is me,” you say when you stop in front of your home, motioning to the quaint apartment building.
Your voice is almost hesitant, like you wish you lived a little further so you could keep chatting. You’re already internally debating inviting him up, remembering that your roommate should still be out for the day. How are you supposed to ask him that? You’re feeling a little out of practice with being smooth.
“Right… well, this was really nice,” he nods, trying to keep his cool, but he’s smiling at you with such sweetness that he’s blowing his own cover.
“Yeah, it was,” you agree, his smile so infectious that you can’t help but return it.
There are a few moments of quiet, the sense that something else could happen lingers in the air as Matty toes at the pavement with his boot. You shatter the silence with a question you don’t really know how to phrase other than just spitting it out.
“Would you want to come up?”
He blinks at you a few times before smiling, scratching the back of his neck as he tries not to appear too elated.
“Yeah, I would.”
The moment you’re both inside your apartment, he’s reaching to cup your cheeks, backing you up against the door, getting so close that you can feel his warm breaths against your lips. Your eyes are lidded as you stare at his mouth, your cheeks prickling with heat at just the feeling of him holding your face. You feel like your skin is buzzing with anticipation as Matty swallows thickly, want is plastered all over his face.
“Can I kiss you?” he asks softly, always the gentleman.
You nod quickly, your hands snaking up his chest to rest at the back of his neck, the tip of his mohawk tickling your fingers. Without another moment to spare, he leans in and presses his lips to yours, both of your eyes fluttering shut as the tension between you bursts, fizzling under your skin. The kiss starts slow as he slots his lips against yours, his thumb tentatively running over your cheek as he draws in deep breaths of you. Your lips begin to lock more eagerly within moments, you’re no longer looking to taste but to devour. The tip of Matty’s tongue drags along your bottom lip sensually and you allow him to lick into your mouth, swallowing up your gasp as need festers within you. Messily, you start shedding jackets and shoes while being unable to keep your hands off of each other. Rushed kisses are exchanged as Matty stumbles, leaning down to unlace his boots while his other hand grasps your waist. His shoes land on the floor with a clunk as he stands back up to his full height, pulling you flush against his body by your ass. The whole thing is awfully reminiscent of two horny teenagers dying to explore each other for the first time, the thought has you giddily smiling into the kiss. Matty doesn’t even know what you’re smiling about, but he’s doing it right back, giving your backside a playful squeeze just to hear you squeak against his mouth.
You lead him by the hand to your room, it's dizzying how quickly making out has turned to you underneath him on your bed, the both of you topless with roaming hands. He makes quick work of snaking his hands around your back, unclasping your bra, and sliding it down your shoulders.
“Fuck… there she is. Y’know, these are some of my best work, I’d say,” Matty muses proudly, reaching out to cup your breasts in his hands.
It’s completely unlike when he’d touched you in the shop. He puts his whole bare hands on you keenly instead of only touching you when necessary, avoiding even brushing you with his knuckles. You sigh with relief, arching into his palms as your daydreams play out in real-time, it’s all so much better than you’d imagined. Matty stares down at your tits with a pleased smile, clearly happy to see your chest again. He massages them with his hands for a few moments before taking them off of you to get a good look at the piercings. Oh so gently, he splays his fingers out at your sides, settling his thumb over one of your nipples. You expect him to start to tweak and pull at it, but instead, he gently rolls the pad of his thumb against the bud, letting out a hum of satisfaction as you suck in a sharp breath. It’s so much yet so little at the same time.
“You’re teasing,” you accuse softly, your breath catching in your throat at just how much more sensitive to the touch your piercings have made you.
“Teasing? I’m just making sure they’re properly healed, don’t want it to hurt, sweetheart,” he reassures, an unmistakable glint of mischief in his eyes as he slowly runs his thumb in little feather-light swirls over the peak of your breast.
Finally, when he’s decided you’ve gone through enough torture by his hand, Matty begins to tweak the piercing, flicking the barbell with his thumb just to watch you squirm underneath him. Warmth flushes through your body like a thunderous wave, your toes curling reflexively. You gasp at the unfamiliarly strong sensation, your fingers curling to grasp his arms tighter as he toys with you.
“How’s that feeling?” he asks, his voice low, gravely.
“It’s good…” you mumble, your chest heaving slightly as you feel a harsh pang of need resounding through your body, between your legs.
“Good. And this?” he continues before suddenly pinching your nipple meanly between his thumb and forefinger.
You jolt as he pulls a sharp moan from you, your back arching at the new rush of hot, tingly pain. You’ve never in your life felt a sensation so powerful, so mind-numbing from only your breasts, and it’s fucking incredible. You’re staring at Matty with wonderment like he’s some kind of deity, begging him to show you more of the potential of your own body. He’s guiding you through the storm, soothing the ache with two gentle fingers circling the hardened bud. Matty clicks his tongue, his darkened eyes burning into you.
“Asked you a question. Did you like that?” he chides, pinching your pierced nipple between his calloused fingers a second time.
“Fuck! Yes, yes, I liked it!” you cry, your body writhing beneath his weight.
“Atta girl… keep using your words for me, okay? Much better that way.”
It seems his silver tongue that day at the parlor wasn’t just a one-off, he’s talented with words and you’re dying to hear more. He leans in, pressing his lips to the valley between your breasts, trailing up until his lips are settled over your other, neglected nipple. Matty sticks his tongue out, tracing the peak of your breast with his tongue, flashing his tongue piercing to you in the process. Fucking obscene.
“Was fuckin’ dreaming of doing this,” he mumbles before delving into you, licking a drawn-out stripe across your flesh.
Your eyes widen as you feel the metal stud of his tongue piercing pass over your nipple, letting out a breathy moan as he maintains unwavering eye contact with you while doing it. He groans as if your skin is the best thing he’s ever tasted, continuing to tweak your other nipple while taking this one between his lips, sucking gently while flicking his pierced tongue against you. Your hips rock forward automatically, finding a slow, rolling pace in search of anything that will relieve the throbbing between your thighs. Matty smirks against your skin as you start to grind into him, allowing himself to meet your rhythm. His growing erection is pressing into your thigh now, the friction between you just made the room feel much hotter.
“Oh, fuck,” you breathe, not daring to break his gaze.
You thread your fingers into his fluffy mohawk, keeping a hold on his head as he continues to ravish you, his breath hot and fanning across your skin. His tongue piercing clashes against the barbell through your nipple, tugging at it amidst the wet warmth of his mouth. A harshness overcomes his features as he pulls away, dragging his tongue up the expanse of your chest to the column of your neck, his mouth right by the shell of your ear.
“You know, when you walked out of there, the only thing I could think was some fuckin’ dickhead who wouldn’t know how to treat you would get to touch these and not me. Drove me fucking mental,” he rasps lowly, his teeth baring as his upper lip twitches with irritation at the mere thought of it.
He tugs at one of your piercings roughly, making your hips buck forward as you let out a sharp cry. Matty just smiles cockily, leaning down to kiss it better, pressing his lips to your breast apologetically.
“I don’t want anyone else to touch them,” you murmur, tightening your fingers in his hair, earning a little groan from him.
“No? Just me?” he coos, reaching to grasp your jaw possessively, “you’re right, baby, I should be the only one who gets to appreciate my handiwork, don’t you think?”
You just nod obediently, feeling a strong pulse between your thighs as the heat continues to pool inside you. Your heart is beating out of your chest at the way he so easily weakens your resolve to nothing. You turn your cheek towards his thumb resting at your jaw, pressing a kiss to the digit while blinking up at him with your best “fuck me”-eyes.
“You’re so damn pretty,” he sighs, running his thumb over your pliant bottom lip, “can I make you feel good, sweetheart?”
“Yes, please touch me, Matty,” you whisper while he pulls at your bottom lip with his thumb.
“God,” Matty groans, “this is going to be very fun if you keep talking like that.”
He begins kissing his way down your body, mapping you out with his skilled lips and hands. His fingers settle at your hips, hooking under your legs so he has a better angle to get between them. Your breath hitches as you realize what he’s doing, something that most men only reluctantly offer.
“You don’t have to-” you start to say, cut off by your breath hitching when he bites at your inner thigh.
“No, I don’t have to,” he interjects, now licking over where he’d marked you with his teeth, “but I really, really want to.”
With no protests from you, he leans down, pressing a kiss to your panties, right over where you’d soaked a damp spot into them. You squirm slightly as he drags his lips up to your clothed clit, making a show of looking up at you while he does so. You’re aching for him, there’s no doubt that he can feel the pulses between your legs against his mouth. Matty slowly hooks one of his fingers into the ruined fabric of your panties, pulling them to the side.
“Oh, baby…” he moans approvingly, his eyes lidded with lust.
You catch the way Matty grinds his hips down into the mattress at the sight of you, but just once, just enough to take the edge off with some friction against the straining in his pants. You can’t help but feel flattered at his eagerness, pride swelling in your chest. Wasting no time, Matty delves between your thighs, parting your honeyed folds with his tongue until he finds your clit. Immediately, he latches onto it with his lips, sucking and swirling the tip of his tongue around the swollen bud. You cry out, your hips arching off of the bed just for him to push them back down firmly. His tongue stud feels even better nudging against your clit than it did your nipples, that little silver ball stealing your breath from your lungs. Matty moans against your cunt, his eyes rolling back slightly as he eagerly laps between your legs, he’s eating you like he wants to drown in you.
“Tastes fucking divine…” he murmurs, making your head spin with the languid circles of his tongue.
You curse under your breath, clutching at his shoulder for dear life as your hips start to wantonly roll forward against his mouth. You’re hurtling towards release almost shamefully quickly, your thighs clamping around his head, and he doesn’t seem to mind one bit. It’s all gathering and tightening inside you quickly, compounding with every swipe of his practiced tongue. Your skin feels like it’s on fire, the flames lit and fanned by the man buried between your thighs.
“Matty- Matty, I’m close,” you warn, your nails digging into his shoulders with widened eyes.
Matty rears back for a moment and shushes your whimpers of protest as he stares up at you, gathering saliva on his tongue before spitting on your pussy, then rubbing it into your clit with his thumb. You can’t help but moan at how filthy his little move was, watching in shock as he immediately goes back to ruining you with his mouth.
“Good fucking girl, c’mon, give it to me,” Matty rasps against you, his eyes lighting up with intensity as he watches you near the edge.
Your body writhes, you’re gasping for air amidst the sheer euphoria building to a high. Your orgasm rips through you like sparks exploding under your skin. Your hips lift from the mattress, stuttering and bucking while your mouth opens with a broken cry, his name like a mantra on your lips. Your cunt flutters and throbs, sensations emanating through you in electric waves. Matty watches you like it’s a damn privilege to watch you fall apart, his eyes trained on your every reaction as he eases you through your climax. He continues his ministrations until you whine, pushing his head away from between your trembling thighs. He smirks up at you with a glistening chin and lips, looking very happy with himself.
“H-holy shit,” you gape, dazed as you chase your breath with a heaving chest, loosening your vice grip on him.
“Mm, could do that all fuckin’ night with a cunt like that,” he sighs, wiping his face with the back of his hand.
You shudder at his words, clambering to pull him back up and smash your lips to his, tasting your arousal that’s heavy on his lips and tongue. The high from your orgasm lingers, clouding your head pleasantly as Matty hums contently into the kiss, pushing damp, stray strands of hair behind your ear, his lips moving with equal fervency. You haven’t forgotten about his pleasure, not in the least, and how could you when he’s rock hard against your thigh? You’d like nothing more than to return the favor, and you have just the thing in mind.
“Matty,” you whisper, pulling away from the kiss to cup his pretty face in your hands, “I know how much you like my tits. Do you think you’d like to… use them?”
“Are you asking me to fuck your tits, sweetheart?” he grins breathlessly, his eyebrows shooting upwards with surprise.
You nod, chewing at your lip as you get flustered by your own suggestion. Matty groans lowly, his cock twitching in his baggy pants at your confirmation. He leans in, peppering little kisses all over your cheeks, forehead, and nose.
“Shit, I think I’d love nothing more, actually. Can I really?” he asks between thankfully pressing his lips to your face.
“Yeah, please, want you to,” you smile, giggling at his pure excitement, wrapping your arms around his neck to toy with his hair.
Giddily, he places one last kiss on the tip of your nose before getting up to undo his pants, fumbling with the zipper with how damn thrilled he is to get his hands on you. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears as anticipation blooms when he finally succeeds. Matty pushes them down his legs and flings them to the side, leaving him in just his briefs that leave nothing to the imagination. You swallow hard at the sight, the outline of his aching cock is clear beneath the dark fabric, damp spots of precum soaked into them near his tip. Clearly, he really enjoyed eating you out, and he’s not ashamed of it in the slightest. Slowly, he eases his thumbs under the elastic waistband, your eyes following the expanse of his V line, decorated with a colorful rose tattoo. Matty pulls his underwear the rest of the way down, knowing damn well that you’re going to like what you see. Heat rushes to your face, your thighs pressing together at how gorgeous he is, your reaction only heightening as he reaches to lazily stroke himself, hissing as he runs his thumb against the weeping tip to slick the surface of his shaft. He winks at you slyly, his ego sufficiently fluffed by the time he lets go of his cock to crawl over to you. He guides you down to your knees at the edge of the bed, him sitting before you with spread legs. Once he’s sure you’re comfortable, Matty flashes a little smile down at you, reaching to cup your cheek encouragingly. Your own smile wobbles with adoration as you lean in, letting his length rest between your tits before pushing them together, enveloping his cock.
“Fuck, yeah, that’s it. Keep ‘em just like that, that’s my girl,” he praises, tossing his head back with how good your plush, full breasts feel around him.
He begins to buck his hips upward slowly, sighing out as you keep your tits pressed tightly between your hands, creating the perfect little space for him. Matty groans, watching as the tip of his cock drives between your perfect breasts, his precum spreading against your skin. He has to clench his fist hard into the sheets to prevent himself from bursting within the first fifteen seconds of glory, he’s going to make this last as long as he possibly can withstand.
“How’s it feel that I’ve marked you for forever, hm? Hickeys fade, but these…” he pants, reaching to grab at one of your piercings, “these aren’t going anywhere, isn’t that right?”
You whine as he pinches at the barbell, nodding at him dumbly while he talks.
“Mine,” he says pointedly, a wolfish grin spreading across his lips.
The revelation of how he’s laid claim to you in a way no other lover ever can has your mind reeling as you begin to move in time with his thrusts, your tits bouncing with your combined efforts to get him off. Matty lets out a shuddering moan, running his thumb over your cheek as he goes faster now, snapping his hips up again and again, relentlessly chasing his high.
“Dirty girl, lettin’ me use you like this, so good to me,” he murmurs through gritted teeth.
He keeps going till he gets to the point where he can no longer stave off his orgasm, the view in front of him is simply too pornographic, he’s dying for relief. The bed creaks with Matty’s movements, his hips stuttering as he begins to lose his frankly impressive rhythm. He hisses out a string of curses, nearing his edge as he rakes his hand through his mohawk to keep it out of his eyes. The silver chain around his neck bounces against his chest with his body's rhythm.
“Getting close. You want me to finish all on your tits, angel? Paint those pretty piercings with my cum?” he asks, but he already knows the answer.
You nod quickly, eyes wide and expectant. That’s all he needs to pull his dick out from between your breasts, hurriedly pumping himself with his lower lip caught between his teeth, moaning and shuddering as he fists his cock. Matty lets out one final, guttural sound as he spills across your chest, hot spurts of his milky cum adorning your skin. You gasp at how lewd it all is, feeling yourself getting soaked all over again as you take his release, all while he cups your face with juxtaposing sweetness.
“Fuuuuck, that was hot,” he drawls, letting go of his length to bend down and press a kiss to the top of your head, his nose buried in your hair as he breathes deeply.
When he sits back up, Matty reaches to gather some of the pearly ropes splayed across your chest on his fingers, holding them to your mouth. Obediently, you open, allowing his digits to press past your lips for you to clean. You swirl your tongue around his thick fingers with a whimper, sucking till every trace of his cum is down your throat. He hums, satisfied at your compliance as he withdraws them from your mouth, wiping your spit on his inner thigh. Then, Matty crooks his finger at you, motioning for you to get up off of your knees and come to him. You move without hesitation, standing to wrap your arms around him as he helps you straddle his waist. Both of your faces are flushed with a sheen of sweat, making you almost glow under the low light of your bedroom. Neither of you can remember the last time you felt so satisfied. He glances down at your breasts again, smirking like he’s admiring his masterpiece.
“Now that’s a sight, innit?” he notes smugly.
You just shove his shoulder playfully, which makes his bright laughter ring throughout the room, wrapping his arms around you for a tight embrace. He ruffles your hair gently, the both of you sharing a blissful come-down from the high.
“You were so perfect,” he whispers, sounding a little in awe of you.
“So were you,” you smile into his neck, running your fingers down his back, feeling each bone of his spine beneath his warm skin.
You stay just like that for a bit longer, breathing each other in. Something about the intimacy of this moment tells you that this wasn’t just a one-time thing. Not with the way he holds you like he doesn’t want you to slip through his fingers. He runs his hands up your arms tenderly, leaning back to look you in the face before he speaks, making you ponder how long those sleepy-looking eyes might stay in your life.
“Let's get you cleaned up, yeah?”
—-----------------------------
Tried to make the date lore accurate, bro loves to talk
While I don’t think there's more to the story, I could be convinced otherwise, perhaps! Either way, I'm sure there will be blurbs about him
Thank you so much for all the support with this fic, it was so so fun to write <3 <3 <3
#body piercer!matty#WHEEEEW#matty healy smut#matty healy x reader#matty healy x you#the 1975 smut#the 1975 x reader#matty healy fic#is this shit. it could in fact be shit.
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everything is blue ✨ // matty healy x reader
a/n: nnn. that's it, that't the plot. gotta thank @theungracefulgrace for the idea, i hope i did it justice <3
cw: smut, thigh riding and matty is a bit pathetic in this lmao, maybe even subby??? is this my subby matty debut???
wc: 1.9k (smaller than i thought actually...)
“you two are disgusting,” george snickers from behind his drums as you make your way onto matty’s lap.
it’s light-hearted and teasing—your friend taking the piss out of both of you but matty scoffs and you stick your tongue out.
“jealous,” you tease, “i’m going to wait until charli shows up and then we’ll talk.”
“yeah let’s talk then, mate,” matty quips from next to you and it only takes him another second to push his hands inside your t-shirt and place them on your bare stomach, almost caressing your ribs.
it tickles and you squirm away, alerting george once more.
“not going to start snogging in front of me, are you?” he turns around making an exaggerated vomiting gesture and scrunches his face at you. matty, almost predictably, takes that as a challenge.
within moments, you feel his fingers lightly closing around your jaw, turning your face and capturing your lips in his. matty’s chest is pressed against your arm and his heartbeat echoes through your entire body, thrilling you to your very core when you feel the slight spike in it as your tongue grazes his bottom lip. his other arm snakes around your waist, pulling you closer as matty deepens the kiss and hums in your mouth, sending vibrations through your entire body. in turn your heart skips a beat. you don’t break apart until you hear a loud cough in the vicinity. and george stares back at both of you, truly disgruntled now.
“bleurgh,” he makes a face. “like i said, digusting.”
“and like she said,” matty snorts, “jealous.”
“simp!”
“idiot!”
“oh, very clever mate!”
“oh—”
“alright, that’s it!” you interrupt matty before he can retort any further and he glares at you in return. “you’re fighting like twelve year olds.”
matty smirks. “weren’t snogging me like—”
you clamp your hand over matty’s mouth before he can finish his vulgar sentence earning you two juvenile giggles—one slightly muffled by your hand.
“you are like an animal,” george teases again, earning an expression of utter betrayal from matty.
“how dare yo—”
“prove it then!” he challenges. his mouth curls into a smirk and your eyes narrow. you know this expression on george. you know he’s up to something.
“we are in november,” he grins cheekily. “the month of chastity and all.”
“can it!” you warn but it’s too late. matty’s smirk already mirrors george’s. you can practically see the cogs turning in their heads and you know what’s about to happen.
“a bet,” george shifts in his seat looking eager and devious. matty does the same, gently setting you off his lap and placing a quick apologetic kiss on your head when you protest.
“a bet,” he repeats.
and then with utter disgust, you watch the two men in front of you spit on their hands and shake on their deal.
at first it’s fun—watching him turn red and squirm every time you get out the shower with just a towel wrapped around you. a few times, you even see him immediately sit on his hands or busy himself in his phone, making you giggle. the few times after that, he leaves the room entirely—practically running away like a virgin catholic school boy.
the first few days are okay, fun even. you send him a selfies—towel just high enough for your nipples to be covered, barely covering your ass, showing its curve very well with the way you pose; on your bed, wearing his t-shirt and only his t-shirt, hand buried suggestively between your thighs—matty threatens to block you, accusing you of wanting to make him lose.
he kisses you like usual, though. that’s the one thing he can’t stop doing. if anything, it feels like his mouth is attached to yours any chance he gets. it’s like he’s compensating, even letting you straddle him and deepen it until he has to pull away with a pained expression.
“how would george know?!” you whine and watch him pout.
“trust me, he would,” matty sighs, shoulders slumping, “i would stop looking so fucking miserable for one.”
you fume quietly, realising you let yourself become collateral damage. he is so close that his cologne permeates your fucking lungs—earthy, sweet and matty. always surrounded by the smell of cigarettes and now his body wash that’s somehow become the most enticing scent in the world.
“can’t lose one week in, baby.” his face pinches into one big sad expression and you frown at him.
one whole week of being so close to him and cuddling at night in bed, one week of feeling his leg part your thighs in his sleep, of feeling his thigh graze against your clit and making you hiss. one week of having him right here but not having him at all.
you shift on his lap, feeling the coarse material of his jeans against the insides of your thighs—not that you’re wearing much, just a big t-shirt and underwear, while he’s still in his jeans and t-shirt and not yet ready for bed—and an idea sparks.
“so don’t lose,” you smirk, moving again, straddling him with a hand on his chest. “the bet was for you to not cum. i am nowhere mentioned in it.”
“what a-are you doing?” matty stutters. he actually fucking stutters, eyes wide and roaming all over your body, particularly focused on where you’re pressed up on his thigh and already on your way to discarding your underwear.
“what does it look like i’m doing, baby?” you lift up slightly, quickly sliding your underwear off and deliberately stuffing it in the pocket of his jeans.
he whines and the muscles of his thigh shift right under your bare cunt.
as if on auto-pilot, his hands grip either sides of your waist, pressing you down onto him even though his face looks utterly devastated and hungry.
“maybe i could do this with your pillow instead, hmm? cum all over it while thinking about you?” you taunt, gyrating your hips and grinding all over his thigh, already soaking his jeans with how turned on you are. it has the precise effect you’re hoping for.
“no–fuck,” he whines, “stay here. use me, please, but stay here.”
“use you, yeah?” your mouth ghosts over his, hand trailing up his chest and tracing the contours of his throat with your nails, tracing all the delicate veins and the flutter of his rapid pulse. matty’s breath quickens and comes out in sharp pants. it’s almost like he can’t handle it, like he doesn’t know what to do with himself anymore.
“touch me, touch me please!” he begs, eager and desperate when you quirk an eyebrow at him.
“touch you how?”
instead of answering, matty takes your hand off his throat and presses in on the bulge in his jeans, sighing at the pressure. he’s practically twitching under your hand, squirming even before you’ve properly even touched him.
“can’t lose now, my darling, can you?” you marvel at the way your voice sounds, sultry and dominating with just a hint of condescensation. it’s power like you’ve never felt before. it makes the blood in your veins heat up even more, makes it flow faster.
so you dig the heel of your palm onto his crotch, drag it up and then down and feel him twitch. feel him grow impossibly hard. matty's body shudders on the sofa like he's not even in there—just a puppet lying there pliant for your pleasure.
“but—”
you bend down to kiss him and feel all his complaints die on his lips. matty whimpers, moving his hips against your hand, thrusting forward almost, but you put an end to it almost immediately and laugh when he whines into the kiss.
“i want to cum, fuck, need to so so bad!” his curls droop over his eyes. eyes that stare at you with such blatant lust that it throws you off kilter, almost makes your hips stutter but the pressure feels so good! the friction is enough to reduce every single thought in your brain down to a lumpy mush.
“yeah?” you whisper in a tightly controlled breathy voice, “but you look so pretty when you beg sweet boy.”
he swallows roughly, transfixed on you and looking utterly fucked and unable to do anything other than keep his hands on your hips and help you ride his thigh, let you get off on him while he watches helplessly and writhes under your touch.
“baby…” he whimpers again when you move your free hand through his curls, tugging at some of the strands and pushing them out of his eyes.
your thighs burn with the strain, a delicious fucking ache that starts from deep within you and slowly spreads to the very tips of your fingers and the wet, sticky spot on matty’s jeans grows larger, right as your moans grow louder.
“fuck, matty…” you bend down, mouth right next to his ear, right on his sweat soaked skin, “so fucking good for me, my pretty boy. make–shit! making me feel so good.”
your movements gain speed and you throw your head back, ignoring him entirely and chasing your own pleasure. no doubt he’s rather occupied with your tits bouncing in his face, seeing as how his hand trails up to trace them, to pinch your hard nipples between his fingers.
“shit!” you cry out, “gonna cum baby. make me cum okay? good boy…”
matty’s back arches off the sofa—eager to obey, so so eager to please—pushing your t-shirt up and flicking his tongue over your nipples, nipping them with his teeth. matty alternated between tongue and teeth, licking and sucking the sensitive skin until there are bruised on your breasts, until you can barely distinguish one thought from another. until finally, you tip over the edge.
there’s a moment where all you recall is crying out his name, breathing harsh and uneven, and then a moment stretched on to infinity that’s just pure fucking bliss. undiluted ecstasy. and then your hips finally stutter to a stop, just as you open your eyes hazily.
the sight in front of you almost brings you to your knees again. matty’s jaw hangs open, mouth wet and red and raw and bitten—the absolute portrait of being fucked, and yet he hasn’t even been touched yet. hasn’t shed a single item of clothing. tears of frustration gather in his eyes while his hair falls all over his forehead. he can’t even make a single sound. not even a peep.
this must have been torture for him and you know it. a sadistic side of you even relishes in it. “did you have fun?” you tease. “i certainly did…”
when you kiss matty again, you can physically feel the jolt in his body, as if his heart restarts, thumping in his chest wildly while he’s still speechless and focused entirely on you.
matty makes a broken sound in his throat—somewhere between a “yes” and a “please” and maybe even your name. but you don’t let him finish.
instead, you swipe your fingers through your soaked folds just as the trembling in your body subsides, collecting your slick and bringing it up to his lips that are still parted in shock.
“a little thank you,” you place the fingers on his tongue, laughing when he swirls his tongue around them. “for being such a good boy.”
“a good boy…” he repeats, voice hoarse and barely even audible. and you know the fun is just getting started…
lemme know what you think <33
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#the 1975#matty healy#matty healy x reader#matty healy x you#matty x reader#matty x you#matty healy smut#matty healy fic#the 1975 smut#ross macdonald#george daniel#adam hann#smut writing#minors do not interact#subby!matty#smut
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matty is just so boyfriend material
#everytime i look at him i fall for him again#he's so cute#my husband#married for 5 years already#matty healy#the 1975#satvb#still at their very best#matty healy x reader#matty healy x you#matty healy fanfiction
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the birthday party -
pairing: matty healy x f!reader
content: friends to lovers, explicit consent, george is a good friend, matty eats pussy, safe sex, denise, p in v sex
wordcount: 6787
this blog is 18+. minors, do not interact. this blog is a safe space. no hate or disrespect of any kind will be tolerated. all work is my own. do not reupload my work on any other site without my consent.
a/n: matty healy, you will always be famous <3
maybe it shouldn't bother him as much as it does. after all, it's just another day.
but it's his birthday. it's his fucking birthday, and there are no messages from you lighting up his phone.
at first, matty tried to convince himself that it was nothing. he had woken up and expected an all-caps message, only to be met with the god-awful time of 5:00 am. but it was okay - it was early, so you probably just want to wait - to ensure that he's awake to see your message.
so he waited.
he waited through bleary eyes - surrounded by his concrete walls and his white comforter - until his alarm sounded and jerked him awake.
a rush of disappointment shattered his bones when there was no message from you. no ‘happy birthday,’ no ‘good morning,’ not even a ‘hey.’
but still, it's okay. matty went about his morning, taking phone call after phone call from family members he hadn’t heard from since last year, pretending there wasn’t a hole in his heart where you left a dent. his mom texted him once; something about going over for a party and celebrating his birthday there with his family and bandmates, and that was it.
he spends the rest of the day picking at the pancakes george made him and tries desperately to ignore your silence.
so yeah, it hurts that you didn't text him, and he's starting to think that maybe it's not okay. because you're his best friend, and you didn't even have the decency to wish him a happy birthday.
there's always been something between the two of you; dotted lines that make it hard to walk or see straight whenever you're together, usually bickering about god knows what.
george says you love him. matty flicks his forehead until he drops it.
because how could someone who loves him forget his birthday?
he feels selfish - feels like shit wishing for something other than the health and clarity he was brought up to be thankful for on his birthday.
and you still don't text him.
it's only a couple of hours later when george's air conditioning hits his face with full power, eyes watering slightly with the artificial wind blowing right into his cornea. they’re on the way to his mother’s house, and matty is bracing himself for the onslaught of aunts with their strong perfume and uncles with their disapproving looks. beside him, george hums from the driver’s seat, a clear indication he can sense matty's heedlessness.
"alright, that's it," george says, turning down the music dial until barely audible guitar strums resonate in the car. “you’ve been moping all day. what gives?”
matty shrugs. "nothing, mate."
"bullshit."
george’s eyes are switching between watching the road and glaring daggers into matty's.
“it’s your birthday, and you’re acting as if someone just killed your snake. so i ask again,” george mutters as he flicks on his turn signal, pulling off the freeway to evacuate the sanctum of subdued car horns and merge into the exit lane. “what gives, matty?”
"it’s not a big deal,” he starts, interrupted by the forced chuckle that resounds beside him. he continues when the light turns green, george slowly letting off the breaks as they near his mom's house.
“i mean, i guess it's just, like, i dunno. i thought that—” he cuts himself off, lost in his head. matty stumbles over his words, a mess of broken syllables as he runs a nervous hand through his hair, messing up the mop of curls.
“she hasn’t texted me today.”
it’s rushed, a lick of shame and embarrassment crawling up his spine as the frigidity of the air conditioning meets his neck. the car is cold, chilling matty's bones with gentle fragility until they freeze and shatter like glass. he bleeds shame, every ounce of blood in his body tainted with the reminder that you forgot.
george's breath hitches, and he clears his throat with a fist over his hand as the other one turns them into a familiar street.
his mother’s house appears in his peripheral vision, the front porch light emitting a timbre, yellow glow, and he can see shadows through the large kitchen window.
matty picks at his nails, messing with his fingers as george parks the car. he can feel watchful eyes on him when he stares down at his lap.
george turns in his seat so they’re forced to face each other. “she didn’t text you at all?”
“not since last night.”
he unbuckles his seatbelt and places a hand on the door handle. he's stopped, a tug to his arm keeping him in place and not permitting him to leave the car—leave the conversation.
“hey,” george starts, voice low and with a lilt of concern tracing the lone syllable. “i’m sure she’s got a good reason. she wouldn’t just forget your birthday.”
matty scoffs, shaking his head until strands of dark hair fall in his face, blowing upwards so he can see again. “what reason?”
“i don't know,” he says, all one breath and fidgety when he unbuckles his seat belt. “but whatever it is, i’m sure she has a good excuse.”
there’s a squeeze to his shoulder, warm fingers emitting heat where they touch his skin through smooth cotton.
“you’re too young to be going through a midlife crisis over the girl you love not texting you for twenty-four hours.”
matty doesn’t have the energy to argue, not when he knows that his friend is right.
so instead of arguing, he smiles and punches george in the arm for good measure before they head down the paved walkway to his childhood home.
his mother greets him first, halfway through his third knock because she expected them over earlier. despite the squint in her eyes, she pulls her son into a tight hug, rubbing comforting circles into his back.
“happy birthday, dear,” she sings, muffled by his chest as she stands nearly half a foot shorter than him.
“thanks, mum.” he smiles, moving aside so george can get engulfed in a hug.
he’s missed it here, the warmth that bubbles in his stomach when he’s around his family, a house full of love and people that he grew up with. it’s almost enough to make him forget about a certain someone who still lingers in the back of his mind like day-old leftovers.
almost.
“so!” his mother beams, stepping back and allowing the boys to remove their shoes and step deeper into the house. “everyone is already here, and they can’t wait to sing you 'happy birthday'.”
matty’s led down the hallway, following his mom into the kitchen. a rumble of deep-set voices and squeals call his name, and his head turns to watch distant relatives scramble to pull him into tight hugs.
he kisses his grandparents on the cheeks, hugs his aunt and uncles and tells his cousins that he missed them. they pass him presents like he’s five again, smaller gifts to unwrap now that he’s an adult and no longer asks for life-sized action figures. george joins him, staying close with a timid smile on his face as he mingles with matty’s family. the whole scene coaxes a content sigh to escape his lips, and he relaxes when his mom gives him another hug.
“i got you something too,” she whispers when they pull apart, leading them into the living room and passing him a glass of wine. they sit, lively music wafting through the speakers, and he smiles as he watches george twirl his cousins around. “it’s not here yet though, i’m afraid. you’ll have to wait a little longer.”
“you didn’t have to get me anything, mum,” he says through the bitter taste of merlot.
she waves her hand dismissively. “oh stop it. you’ll love it, i promise.”
he tries to enjoy the party—really, he does. but thoughts of how much better it could be if you were here to enjoy it with him linger in the back of his mind. it’s tough to decide whether he should miss you or be mad at you. maybe he should forget you all together right now but he can’t. not when his brain is growing fuzzy and his cheeks feel warm, patches of crimson surely paint his face, thanks to the glass he downed in one go.
“matty, come do a shot with me!”
with a huff, matty makes his way toward his friend who holds a shot glass nearly overfilled with clear liquid.
george’s grin melts away when he sees him, eyes filled with concern as he hesitantly passes the shot to matty.
“you okay, mate?”
matty clears his throat and mumbles something about allergies and how it’s stuffy in here as cool liquor spills over his fingers. george doesn’t seem to buy it, but he shrugs anyways.
he shakes off the mist clouding his brain and smirks, self-indulgence taking over his dark eyes. he clinks the glass to his friend’s, liquid sloshing off the sides before he tips it back. it burns when it runs down his throat, leaves his tongue dry in a desert of twisted intoxication he knows he’ll regret in the morning.
“shit,” george hisses through his teeth. “‘ forgot that i fuckin’ hate vodka.”
matty laughs, and there’s silence between them for a moment, then, “mate, are you sure you’re okay? ‘cause, not to be an arse, but you look fuckin’ horrible.”
exasperated, matty runs his hands through his already mussed hair.
“i’m gonna go get another drink.”
a calloused hand wraps around his wrist and stops him from pulling away. “maybe you should ease up on the booze,” george says.
“aren’t you the one that was just begging me to do shots with you?”
“that was before you turned into a sad drunk. here,” he shuffles around for a water bottle, “drink this and go get some air—maybe a smoke, too, while you’re at it.”
grinning, matty takes the water from george’ hand with a simple “thanks.”
he sneaks away to the back porch where crickets chirp quietly in the grass—a change from the loud commotion of music and chatter.
lithe fingers bring a cigarette to chapped lips, thumb slipping on the lighter to invoke a small flicker of flames that burn the end of the bud.
with an inhale, matty wonders if his room looks the same as it did that last time he was here; if his brother had claimed any of his clothes or knick-knacks he’d left when he moved out. he wonders if you would find his room childish.
with an exhale, he wonders how his thoughts always seem to trace back to you.
“what have i told you about smoking, matthew?”
“i have a good reason.”
his mom wanders her way next to matty, leaning against the fencepost next to him. “and what might that reason be, love?”
“her,” matty breathes, the smoke from his lungs floating into the distant air. “fuck, mum. it’s always her.” he pauses to take another drag. “she hasn’t texted me all day, and i’m worried about her getting hurt or somethin’.”
denise smiles, and from the corner of his eye, he sees her turn back to the door of the house. he doesn’t follow her motions.
“i’m sure she’s fine, sweetheart,” she says, turning back. “you’ll hear from her soon.”
“but—”
she elbows matty’s side. “no ‘buts’. now, i think you should put that out and come back inside, okay? that stuff is bad for you.”
“soon,” he says, completely ignoring her request, and she sighs, giving her son a final nudge before stepping back inside. matty doesn’t spare her a glance, opting to keep his eyes trained on a black, starless sky.
the familiar buzz of red wine floats through his bloodstream, and he draws another hit into his lungs, filling the void of sadness with grey smoke. he almost thinks he’s hearing things when someone speaks from behind him.
“she’s right, y’know.”
the exhale of smoke comes out in a choked gasp, and his heart stutters, chest tightening.
matty’s scared to turn around. scared to face the cause of his well-being, because there’s no way this can be real. his lip is worried between his teeth, hair falling into his face as he stares at the cigarette laced between his thumb and index finger.
the open wound you left in his heart this morning is sealed by the resound of your voice that echoes through the air.
he doesn’t turn around. you do it for him.
matty’s forced to face you with a pull on his arm, skin tingling where your hand rests. the cigarette is plucked from his fingers seconds after, the stub dropping to the ground where you step on it to put it out.
“hi,” you say, completely and utterly exhausted. “happy birthday.”
the closeness is suffocating.
you’re standing too close but somehow too far away, and matty would pull you into him if it weren’t for the frozen state of his bones.
“hi,” matty breathes, eyes glossy with unshed tears as he stares down at you.
it’s surreal—standing here with the lingering taste of tobacco and merlot heavy on his tongue—the gentle breeze blowing tufts of your hair.
“what are you—w-when did—” matty stutters, mind running a mile a minute, intoxicated brain took over with perplexion. he stops, takes a deep breath, and collects his thoughts. “how are you here?”
“well,” you drawl, shuffling closer to the stunned man in front of you. “your parents bought me a ticket to fly out for your birthday—per george’s request. after that, all i had to do was keep it a secret, hop on a plane, and here i am.”
“here you are?” he repeats. “you had me worried sick. you didn’t text or call—hell, you didn’t even wish me a happy birthday! you can’t—you can’t just waltz in here and pretend that everything is fine when you put me through—”
“matty,” you interrupt, grabbing his hands. “calm down for me, yeah? breathe.”
“no—what? don’t just-”
he pulls away and leans back against the fence. his hands run through his hair, fingers desperately wishing they were holding a cigarette.
“breathe, matty.” you sigh patiently. “how about you give me a tour?”
“can we just … stay here for a while?” he asks, and if there’s tension in the air, it’s ignored. “i just want to make sure i’m not dreaming, or something.”
“you dream about me?’ you tease, crossing your arms to try and shield yourself from the breeze.
dark eyes slowly meet yours.
“all the time.”
he pushes himself off the fence and steps closer to you. the boots he’s wearing give him some height, so he’s looking down at you as his hands move to push your hair back.
“tell me,” you whisper. “tell me what you dream about.”
it’s the urgent tone of your hushed voice that has matty caving—hesitancy swept away with the wind as he gives in, letting his hands trace the sides of your face.
“everything,” he admits, voice quiet and shy. “fuck, love, i dream about doing everything with you. anything and everything you’d want me to.”
you’re silent.
you’re silent, and matty is losing his mind, brain pounding against his skull. he can feel bitter bile rise up his throat, nauseous when he looks back at you—just standing there—lips parted and leaving matty to lie in the grandeur of his own self-destruction.
there’s already an apology forming on his tongue, the fingers that were wound through your hair curling away.
but you step closer and grab his hands, stopping their retreat.
“i dream about it too.”
the words take matty by surprise, the tenderness that coats the revelation alleviating the shake in his hands. he looks at you—really looks at you—and scrutinizes the expression on your face.
he finds no hint of a lie; no hint of cruel duplicity, or fraud. the truth of your words really sinks in when you drop his hands in favour of running the pad of your thumbs under charcoal eyes, ridding him of the hint of tears that start to seep from puffy eyelids.
“c’mon, matty. you can’t possibly be surprised. i mean really, i dropped everything just to see you.” your tone is gentle, but a laugh sneaks its way out of your mouth and curls around matty’s head, leaving him feeling warm.
he rolls his eyes; courage slowly washes over his bones and makes his hands move to pull you in by the waist.
“shut up and kiss me.”
you surge forward, capturing his lips on your own as your hands move from his cheeks to his hair; threading them through unruly curls.
matty drinks in every noise you make, welcoming them as they leave him desperate. the taste of stale alcohol still lingers on his lips, but underneath the bitterness is you; sweet and human.
he would like to pretend that he hears fireworks when your lips part, a mess of bright, colourful explosions littering the sky as he softly licks into your mouth—but that doesn’t happen.
and it’s alright. it’s completely okay because instead of the headache-inducing light and noise, there’s the muffled laughter of his friends and family, the gentle chirp of crickets, and you.
you; gasping into the kiss.
you; your hands tugging gently at his hair.
you; flush against his chest. so close that matty can feel your heartbeat melding with his.
you; jerking away so abruptly his eyes shoot open, flickering over your—now beet-red—face.
the creak of the back door had pulled you away from him, and the sight of george standing atop the welcome mat made you flush.
“um,” he says, shuffling awkwardly. “i just wanted to say ‘hi’, but i think you welcomed her home enough for the both of us.”
matty clears his throat and grins sheepishly at a very shocked george. his cheeks burn red at being caught, but he can’t really bring himself to care—not when you’re finally next to him.
george scoffs, exasperated by his love-sick friends.
“come inside,” he urges, nodding in the direction of the house. “everyone’s excited to see her.”
matty watches as you turn back to him and give a little shrug, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth—and it’s then that he decides that he’s not done kissing you yet.
“yeah. we’ll uh—we’ll follow you.”
he leads you into the house with a hand on the small of your back, and shuts the door behind him, blocking out the sounds of lingering traffic. cheerful voices seep through the walls, and the irony of how he walked in here just a couple hours ago, saddened and heavy because of the girl who’s now looking up at him with only adoration in her eyes is not lost on matty.
“okay, denise is in there laughing about how we all tricked you into thinking the worst, so prepare to be humiliated.”
matty hums in response, staring only at the back of your head as you follow george toward the kitchen. he reaches a hand out, grabs your arm and gently tugs you back with a finger over his lips and a wink.
“mhm,” he sings, leading you slowly towards the stairs. “sounds like fun.”
he doesn’t get the chance to watch as george turns around, already halfway up the stairs with you latched onto his arm.
“you’ve got to be fuckin’ kidding me.” george’s exasperated voice is the last thing he hears before he’s crowding you against the wall at the top of the stairs.
his lips are on yours before you get a second to breathe, a bruising hold on your waist as he pushes you into solid plaster. he keeps one hand on you while the other presses the wall beside your head, arm shaky as he leans his weight onto you.
there’s a light push to his chest, and you gasp under him as you pull back. matty has to refrain from groaning at the loss of pressure on his lips.
“my bags,” you pant, “i forgot them outside.”
a breath of laughter ghosts over your lips. “we can get them after.”
“but my clothes are gonna get wet—matty, the grass was wet.”
your words render useless as he leans down to plant open-mouthed kisses on your neck.
“then you can borrow some of mine,” matty mumbles, trailing his way up to your jaw to suck purple bruises into tender flesh.
at the thought of drowning in his clothes, you go lax against matty’s lips; giving in to his desperate mouth.
“okay,” you agree, and that’s all it takes for matty to recapture your mouth and let his hands wander.
calloused, gentle hands trace the curve of your body as lithe hips press into yours. he manages to tear a hand away from you to feel for the cool metal of the familiar doorknob, twisting until the door falls open.
he tugs you in with sweet urgency, his old bedroom cast in soft light, the only luminosity coming from the moon where it seeps through the blinds.
maybe it’s just the heat of the moment, or maybe you don’t care—but matty’s grateful you don’t comment on the bowie posters that grace his walls as he pushes you into the middle of his bed.
you land with a light bounce and prop yourself up onto your elbows, a cocky grin making its way onto your face. “i’ve been here for barely twenty minutes,” you breathe, gasping when matty situates himself between your legs and pushes you higher onto the mattress. “and you already wanna tear my clothes off.”
the brunet dips his fingers under the hem of your shirt, hiking it up just a sliver to catch a glimpse of soft, smooth skin. “wanted to for a while now.”
he brings the hem of the shirt up to your lips. “bite,” he whispers, voice husky.
with the new expanse of skin exposed, matty's practically left breathless. he takes tender flesh between his teeth, laps his tongue at bare and unmarred skin, and sucks until he feels you arch your back and lean into his mouth. his hands trail the expanse of your ribs, feeling the delicate bones under his touch.
marks upon marks are added to your lower stomach, matty desperately trying to leave reminders on your abdomen. his lips work on their own accord, sucking bite after bite up your torso until he lands at the base of your bra. he looks up at you, eyes questioning. laughing softly, you sit up, gently pushing him back onto his knees. dark eyes trace your body, watching as you undo your bra, slipping it off and letting it fall to the floor, along with your shirt.
the man in front of you sits in awe, and lets out a long sigh. “fuckin’ gorgeous.”
you’re not sure if the words were meant for you to hear, but you blush anyways, leaning back and letting your elbows hold your weight.
“do your worst, birthday boy.”
matty laughs, the happy—and somewhat shocked—noise echoes through the small bedroom and causes you to grin. he doesn’t hesitate to drop his head; lips meeting your warm skin, teeth leaving trails of bruises.
you gasp out breathy pleas when matty flicks his tongue over the peak of your breast. “y-your—shit,” you whine, hands landing in the man’s hair, tugging at the curls harshly. “your family is downstairs, matty. what if they—ah!—hear us?"
“don’t care,” he responds, biting softly at the pink bud and rolling the other between his index and his thumb. “want this. want you.”
”fuck. i—okay, okay. you have me, matty,” you moan, pleasure dripping from your lips. “you have me.”
he surges up to kiss you again, newfound fervour in the brush of your lips as he tilts his head to lick into your mouth. you still taste sweet, everything matty could ever ask for.
“you’re gonna have to be quiet,” he whispers, leaning back on his knees and tracing patterns over your stomach, dipping his fingers into the bruised marks just to hear the masochistic whines you let out at the pain. “as pretty as you sound, i don’t want anyone hearing us.”
hearing his words over, matty backtracks, his hand stuttering over your torso.
“i mean, not that we need to like, do anything—i’m not—i don’t wanna force you into—”
your fingers wrap around his wrist, halting his ministrations to give a comforting squeeze to his skin.
“i want to,” you breathe, using your grip around his wrist to drag his hand down your stomach to rest on your belt. “i want this.”
at your words, matty rushes to tug at the buckle, effortlessly removing your belt and tossing it to the side.
your jeans are off your hips in a second’s time, but he takes his time sliding them over your ankles, bending down to leave firm kisses on your inner thighs.
you preen under his touch, and your chest heaves as you breathe, a glistening trail of spit drying on your nipples. when the jeans are discarded and messily thrown in a pile somewhere across the tiny room, matty notices the soaked bottom of your underwear.
tracing a finger up the fabric just to watch you writhe, matty tuts. “and you thought i was eager.”
your hips jerk up in response, surprised by the soft touch. your hands fly to his hair, gripping the curls so tight that he grunts against your neck.
“jesus.”
“sorry! ‘m sorry,” you sob. you manage to relax your fingers, but matty shakes his head.
“don’t stop on my account.”
you feel his fingers slide across your damp underwear, moving to mindlessly palm your thighs as he leaves burning kisses up to where you need him most. your hips rut up, chasing his hand desperately, but matty’s not having it.
“matty, please,” you huff, tugging at his hair to try and get him where you want him.
“stop whining,” he hushes. “‘wanna take my time.”
your soft gasps and whimpers start to get to him though, and he pushes his knuckles against your pussy, forcing a shocked moan out of you.
matty shushes you because while he is completely enamoured by each noise that escapes your lips, he isn’t too keen on one of his family members walking in to see him take you apart.
you relent, and worry your bottom lip between your teeth, while matty returns to the task at hand.
“pretty,” he mumbles, slipping calloused fingers beneath the elastic band of your underwear.
he pulls to gradually reveal your soaked folds and his breath catches in his throat. at the sight, he speeds up his movements and practically rips the cloth off your legs. the material joins the jeans on the floor, and finally, he gets to see you in all your splendour.
“can i taste you?” he whispers, voice shaking. you nod, already out of it as you take the liberty of collecting all of his hair away from his face, holding it back as he works his mouth against you.
“matty, you—” you start, a hand flying from his hair to his sheets. they smell like him, but you’re trying not to think about that—trying not to think about how loopy it’s making you feel—because matty’s holding your hips up, nose bumping against your swollen clit as he tongues at your hole.
“you—” you start again, but the thought gets lost somewhere. disappears as matty does something with his tongue that makes you gasp. “jesus christ—” you huff, chest rising and falling quickly.
you get your words out before you can forget.
“fuck,” you sigh, arching your hips into his face and tightening your fist in his hair, “you look good like this.”
the praise goes straight to his head, and he’s groaning. nodding his head into you, hitting a sweet spot and almost immediately, the hand in his hair pulls him up.
“i don’t wanna cum yet,” you say, quiet because you have to be—taking account of the people downstairs. “so just, go easy on me, okay? you’re surprisingly good at this.”
“surprisingly?” matty retorts, raising an eyebrow.
you don’t have time to respond before he runs his teeth against your clit, and chides, “brat,” before tightening the grip his fingers have on your thighs, pushing the digits into your skin before shaking his head from side to side. you see black, your eyes clenched closed as you try and pull your thighs together, but matty pushes them open, desperately lapping at you.
his jaw aches as his mouth moves, but your pleasure is all he knows. even though you asked so nicely for matty to not yet make you cum—the question is nothing but a distant memory in the back of his mind.
he flattens his tongue and guides it up, sliding across your slit before enveloping your clit in his mouth and sucking—forcing a strong, white current to wash over you. your hands shoot up to cover your mouth as you arch into his mouth, breathlessly stuttering his name as you come.
can’t talk, can’t speak.
the feeling is too overwhelming, too all-consuming before the come down eventually starts and words are coming out, your body shaking with the effort to stay quiet; muffled whimpers sounding behind tight fingers.
you hitch your hips up, and matty’s moving with them, basically getting onto his knees to keep you close. “holy fuck,” you breathe, looking down between your tits to where he’s kissing away your slick, only letting go when you shove your hands down between your thighs, nerves shot and sensitive.
“mmh,” you whimper, clamping your thighs together, trying to calm yourself down.
“you with me?” he asks, tucking his damp curls behind his ears. you have to laugh. have to laugh all of this pent-up emotion out as you brush stray hairs from your face.
“yeah,” you nod breathlessly. matty kisses you with a smile and you taste yourself on him. his features go goofy when he raises a brow and asks, “good?”
“fucking amazing.”
“good,” he says again, then rolls onto his back beside you. he’s unbuttoning his shirt, saying, “i aim to please,” when you’re crawling your body up his chest and kissing the shock away from his face.
“oh fuck,” he curses, fumbling to grab a hold of you. you slide your fingers onto the side of his head and taste yourself, mixed with the feel of his swollen, curving lips as he smiles against you. desperation sweeps over you, and you cup a hand over the bulge in his pants, grinding your palm down, and matty has to focus really hard to not give into your touch.
regrettably, he pries your hand away, bringing it to his mouth and kissing each one of your fingers with sentimental ease. “wanna fuck you,” he mutters, playfully biting at your ring finger until you laugh and pull your hand away.
“come on,” you drawl, moving to sit directly on his bulge. “it’s your birthday. don’t you want me to blow you?”
you have a point, matty supposes. his birthday is supposed to be the one day of the year when he gets to be selfish, and what kind of person would he be if he passed up the opportunity to feel your lips around him?
but you’re his gift. tasting you and making you cum from his mouth alone is a better present than he could have ever asked for, and matty thinks he can afford to be greedy tonight.
but to him, being greedy isn’t fucking your throat until pretty tears fall down your cheeks—he can do that another time. greedy, to matty, is taking another orgasm from you, just so he can hear the way his name sounds when curled around your tongue.
he makes quick work of slipping off the mattress and taking off the white button-up and trousers, leaving him in only his boxers.
“i’m not lettin’ you suck me off.” he smirks.
“what? why not?” you move to the edge of the bed, a look of confusion dancing on your features as you run a finger up matty’s exposed thigh. “don’t you want me to?”
it’s hard not to give in when you tease the waistband of his boxers, the light chatter rumbling from downstairs a distant memory as he loses himself in the feeling of cold fingers slipping under the elastic band. leaning forward, you press leisurely kisses against the brunet’s torso.
he allows you to mouth at his abdomen, welcomes the gentle bite when you pull skin between your teeth; a swirl of possessiveness ravishing deep in his bones when he realizes that you’re is trying to match the heart-shaped hickeys that taint your own body.
matty breaks out of his trance when you roll his boxers down until the cloth lies in a pile around his ankles. goosebumps rise to his skin and he can feel his legs begin to tremble.
before you have the chance to take his cock into your mouth, matty takes hold of your hair, and gently pulls you back.
“i said you’re not blowin’ me,” he mutters, leaning over your body until you’re forced to lay flat on the mattress, legs dangling off the edge and chest heaving at the proximity. “i know what i want for my birthday, and it’s not that.”
with a fluid movement, he flips your positions and settles against the headboard, letting you settle on his lap. his hands explore your body, nails occasionally scratching you—making you shiver.
“i want you. i want you as mine, and i want you to ride me, right here.”
matty laughs at your wide eyes, brushes sweaty hair out of your face, and relishes in the feeling of your bodies pressed against each other. he’s painfully hard, and every time you shift just a fraction of an inch, it tugs a shaky breath from his throat.
“alright,” you say, pressing a chaste kiss to matty’s lips. “do you have any condoms then?”
his hand reaches out to his bedside table. “in the drawer.”
you lean to grab it for him, and matty’s kissing you the entire time. over your chest, collarbones, shoulders, and neck as you push around his drawer, saying “you have so much shit in here.”
he turns to look. turns back to your neck. “in the back,” and he’s kissing you again, palming your ass. he slides his hands lower and bumps them against your sensitive clit, making you gasp, clutching onto the wood.
matty fucking laughs.
you shake your head. “you’re an arse.”
“you’re very distracting,” he admits.
you finally find the box, and with a packet in hand, you look down to where matty’s cock lays on his stomach, a bead of precum leaking onto his abdomen. “shit, you’re big.”
matty smirks, cocky. “think you can take it?”
huffing, you slide the condom down onto him slower than necessary. his cocky smirk dies immediately when you suck your cheeks together and allow a pool of spit to spill from your lips.
“gonna try,” you say, slicking up matty’s cock with a thick coat of saliva still partially strung to your lips, the friction slow enough for him to buck his hips and try to fuck your fist to get needed stimulation.
“tease,” he manages to choke out before you sink down onto him, hips flexing back so he slides all the way in. as soon as you bottom out, matty groans long and hard, and his head falls into the crook of your shoulder.
you don’t let him know when you’re ready, only lifting yourself up so matty can feel the drag of his cock along your insides, gasping as pleasure clouds your mind. shaky limbs help you in slamming back down, the legs of the bed creaking with the force of your bodies colliding.
”fuck,” matty moans, hands scrambling to find purchase on your waist. you sound fucked out already, blissful sighs breathed into matty’s hair. “you okay?”
you sit up again, the tip of matty’s cock catching on your folds before you lower yourself again, stuttered curses leaving your mouth.
“mhm, m’fine. y-you’re just,” you sob, trailing off and rolling your hips forward, letting matty’s cock grind against your sensitive bundle of nerves. you swallow, the sound resonating in matty’s ears as he aids your movements with a firm grip on your waist. “big.”
matty’s ego swells and he pulls you down hard on his dick, making you feel just how big he can be. it causes you to shake your head quickly.
“fuck! n-not so fast, please.”
“oh baby,” he soothes, palms sliding to grip your ass, and he uses his hold on you to fuck up into you, keeping a simple rhythm—cock hitting a part of you that makes you sob. makes you collapse against his chest, and you stuff your head into his neck and just take it.
“there?” matty asks with a twinge of something sadistic. “want me to fuck you there?”
“yeah, yeah, please—close, matty, ‘m so close.”
to try and lessen the noise, matty grabs your face and pulls you down into a bruising kiss. he swallows every sound, loving the way you struggle to kiss him back as your legs tremble.
“close already, huh?” he whispers against your lips, drinking in every soft moan that escapes your throat.
and it’s meant to be playful, something that he can tease you about later—but with the way his name is repeated in a fucked out voice, he’s sure he’ll forget to do that later.
so he relents, fucking into you with calculated thrusts, hitting your sweet spot over and over again.
your thighs ache, and the edge is so close all you can do is take what he’s giving you and whine his name pathetically.
it hits you all at once.
a white-hot heat reaches up and grabs you and you clench so fucking tight around his cock that matty falters.
he’s losing his goddamn mind. head tilted back against the headboard, he’s trying to hold back pathetic whimpers, but when your eyes roll to the back of your head and your lashes flutter shut, matty lets out a sob as he comes, rutting his hips into you as your body shakes.
your body shakes with overstimulation as matty moves you against him, milking his orgasm and running sharp nails down your sweat-ridden back.
after the comedown, you breathe out a sigh. matty’s kissing your neck. gently pecking at the hot skin, before spreading his kisses over your jaw, towards your mouth.
“how was that?” he asks, tracing a calloused finger over the marks that litter your body. they turn a deeper shade of purple when his touch lingers for too long, and he grins as you squirm in his grasp.
“i think you already know,” you quip, frowning.
“maybe. but i wanna hear you say it.”
you don’t dignify him with a response, instead shaking your head and lifting yourself off his cock, wincing at the sudden emptiness.
“cold?” matty asks. you nod and curl into yourself as he gets up to rummage through his old closet.
once you’re fully dressed, in clothes albeit a bit big on you, matty helps you stand from the bed and pulls you into a hug—your first proper embrace since you’ve been here—and rests his chin atop your knotted hair.
you hum into his chest, wrapping your fingers behind his back and trace swirls over his bare skin.
“i’m glad you’re here,” he says, pressing a kiss to your crown and pulling back to find his pants. “i don’t know if i actually told you that, yet.”
“i kinda figured you were—what with how fast you stopped crying when you saw me.”
“hey,” matty points an accusatory finger at you, but there’s no malice behind it. “you can’t blame me for bein’ upset, i thought you forgot my birthday.”
together, you fix the pillows and smooth over crumpled sheets, returning the room to the way it was before the kisses, the sex, and you.
“matty, when have i ever forgotten your birthday?”
before leaving the room, you try to smooth out your hair, carding a hand through matty’s as well so it isn’t too obvious what you’ve been doing for the last hour—though you’re sure george has a hunch.
the minute you step into the kitchen, with matty close behind, you see george down the rest of his beer and make his way over to you.
“so,” he drawls, a shit-eating grin spread across his face as he eyes you two up and down. “what have you guys been doin’?”
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only angel
gynecologist!matty healy x reader
A/N: the ppl voted and my blog is a democracy. i’ve written a couple blurbs abt this but here is the full fic :) i love this freak nasty man so here u guys go. (also, don’t like it? don’t read it! ;)) abt 3.6k words. also ty to my friends molly, olive, and josie for helping me out w bits and pieces of this. ily guys @think0fmehigh @automaticllamacycle @ilwysleep
warnings: smut 18 +, breeding kink, cum play, degradation, praise, size kink, corruption kink, taboo topics/power imbalance (doctor/patient), fingering, a lil oral (fem receiving), light choking, light spanking (once across the face, completely consensual), masturbation w toy (f!), mean dom!matty, use of Bunny, maybe petplay if u squint, dom and sub dynamics, problematic age gap maybe (reader is 22/23, matty is 29/30), dirty talk, lots more this is filthy etc..
You felt restless. Matty was at work, and you were home clenching your thighs together. You didn't have a class today, and so that meant no distractions either. You were ovulating, and your body was making sure you knew that fact.
Matty had left you aching this morning. Riling you up on purpose. Lingering touches on your thighs, caressing your bare skin. He didn’t listen to your whines or pleas, condescendingly reminding you that he has ‘important work to do, more important than getting you off.’ So, you lay in bed tossing and turning. Waiting for Matty’s return, however pathetic that sounds.
And time seemed to drag, nothing working as an efficient distraction. Every time you turned in bed, you swore you could smell Matty's scent each time. You couldn't find a comfortable position, and you were seriously contemplating going back to sleep. There was no reason for you to be awake anyway. Not when you had to just wallow here.
You would touch yourself. Slip your hand down under the waistband of your panties, rubbing your clit until you cum over your own fingers. But, you did make a promise. A promise to Matty this morning that you would be a good girl and wait for him to get home from work. That if you did wait, he would reward you.
You were on the brink of insanity, to disobey him or not? You didn't think you could, so you let your eyes flutter shut. Falling back into a state of light sleep, the white noise of the fan lulling you into a dream that you weren't going to remember when you woke up.
...
You woke up the same way you went to sleep, a dull ache between your legs. Grinding your teeth together, you threw the covers off your hot body and made your way to the bathroom. You were happy your boyfriend had a master bedroom with an attached bathroom, it made everything easier. You reached for your toothbrush, catching your reflection in the mirror. And, maybe you did look a little desperate. But who could blame you? It was really Matty's fault.
After you brushed your teeth, you decided you would take a cold shower. If nothing could snap you out of the state you were in, surely this would. You reached in, turning the handle to the coolest setting. Grabbing two towels and hanging them over the glass, stepping into the shower.
Even being in the ice cold shower for at least 20 minutes was no help. Images of you and Matty in the shower together came flooding back, only making you clench your thighs together more. How he would squeeze your hips if he was here, pressing you up against the glass and moving to get between your legs.
You shook your head as if trying to rid yourself of the thoughts. Stepping out of the shower, you wrapped one of the towels around your body. Opening the door to the bedroom, you walked to Matty's dresser and took one of his old band tees out. You threw it on after drying yourself off, along with a pair of simple white panties that had a small bow on the front. The pair you had worn when you first met him, you smiled at the thought.
After that, you crawled back into bed. You really had nothing to do. No work to catch up on, no shows to watch, and nothing to focus on. Your attention still lingering on the way your cunt throbbed under the fabric of your panties. You tried to remind yourself, listen to your promise.
But weren't promises made to be broken, anyway? You reasoned with yourself. You knew Matty. You knew that even his punishments could be taken as rewards. You knew that he could never do anything too bad to you. So, break the rules you did.
You tried to lose yourself in the pleasure, fingers working yourself as you shut your eyes tightly. But they didn't hit the same spots that Matty's did. And they never felt the same. Then, you remembered. You remembered the toy Matty had bought you so you could use it together. The one he kept in a shoebox in his closet, along with the other toys you two would frequently use.
You got up from the bed, searching for the black box on the floor of Matty's closet. Finding it almost immediately, taking the lid off and searching for the toy. A dildo that was almost as big as him, the next best thing if he wasn't there for you. Not that it felt nearly as good, but it sufficed when you were desperate like this.
Walking the familiar journey, you lied back down on the bed. The cold sheets making goosebumps raise on your arms. Matty's scent completely enveloped you now that you had his shirt on. You ran your hands over your own body teasingly. You knew you didn't have to do much to prep yourself, you've been ready all day.
You let your fingers slide under the band of your panties, tracing your slit. You were already so wet, moaning quietly as your finger bumped your clit. You moved the fabric to the side, beginning to get impatient with yourself. Your fingers swirled around your entrance, collecting the slick that was dripping from you and bringing it up to your clit.
You rubbed circles on your bundle of nerves, resisting bucking your hips into your own hand. You took the toy, bringing it down to your hole. The tip of the dildo prodding at your entrance, you pushed it inside of you slowly. Moaning out, one of your hands slid under your (Matty’s) shirt to tweak at your nipple. You bit your lip hard enough to draw blood.
Pushing the toy fully inside of yourself, you brought your pointer finger to rub lightly at your clit. You could feel yourself clenching around it, brining your hand back to the base so you could move it in and out of you slowly. You breathing picked up, chest heaving as you allowed yourself to give in to pleasure.
That was your first mistake, you guessed. Or maybe that was not checking the time when you woke up. As you didn’t hear Matty’s car pull up in the driveway. Nor did you hear the front door close, or his footsteps as he made his way up the stairs. You didn’t hear the creek of the door, eyes squeezed shut and head thrown back in pleasure. But, you did hear the clicking of someone’s tongue. You gasped, hand coming to splay out over your chest. Eyes opening wide, head shooting up to see your boyfriend standing in the doorway.
Your body was warm all over. The fact that you had gotten caught, but also breaking his rules? You felt shame creep up your neck. The toy was still inside of you fully, cunt dripping wet as you looked at the smirk on Matty’s face. He walked over towards the bed, shaking his head the whole time.
“What’s this, princess? Didn’t listen to your Doctor’s orders?” He mused, knee leaning on the bed as he rubbed your bare thigh with one hand. He trailed one finger from your leg, scratching his fingernail over your abdomen as he brought it down to your other thigh. You twitched slightly and he chuckled.
You whined as Matty practically drank you in with his eyes. His hand coming up to bunch his old band tee between his fist. “N-no, m’sorry, Doctor. But you left me. You left me, and I’ve been so needy all day.” You felt childish, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. The faux pout you received back from Matty only made more arousal pour out of you.
Matty ignored your words, gazing at you like a predator. “Use this often when I’m gone, baby?” He pointed at the you, gesturing as if he was disgusted at the thought of you using it alone. “Only cock you should be taking is mine.” His tone was full of condescension and it made you dizzy. You clenched involuntarily. His eyes followed the movement, looking between your legs.
“Please, Doctor. I’m sorry. I want you so bad.” You begged for him, lashes fluttering as you looked up and tears filled your lash line. “Need you inside of me, it’s not the same. Want you to fill me up.” And maybe you were laying it on thick, but it was all the truth. You’ve been so needy for him all day.
“S’a shame, bunny.” He laughs at your reaction to the word, rolling your hips into the air. “You couldn’t listen to me. Think you deserve to get fucked with a real cock? That’s only for good girls, not whores like you.” He traced the outline of your panties that were pulled aside, lingering for a moment. Tapping the base of the dildo inside of you, he stretched the band of your elastic and let it snap back against your skin.
You groaned, feet planted on the bed as you raised your hips up. He circled your clit, pinching it lightly and watching the shock run throughout your body. “I- I am good, Matty. Please, I wasn’t gonna cum without you.” You whimper as Matty slaps the toy again, then grabbing the base and beginning to move it in and out of you.
Matty scoffs at your words. “You weren’t going to, or you just couldn’t?” He says with a definite tone, pulling the dildo fully out of you. He ran the silicone toy through your slick, then tapped it on your clit three times. You dig your nails into the sheets, trying to not move. “Wanna see you stuff yourself with it, since y’were so eager.” Matty takes his hands off your body completely, moving to the tent in his pants.
You could see that he was straining against his work pants, cock begging to be released from the confines of the fabric. You could imagine how it looked, all flushed and pretty, leaking precum for you. Matty palmed himself over the material, letting his hips buck up. He squeezed his very visible length. You swore your mouth watered.
Your hand went to the toy, body begging for some type of friction. You fucked yourself with it, getting lost in the way Matty looked as he rubbed himself over his pants. It felt good, but it wasn’t him. You would never be able to cum like this. “Doctor Healy, please. I need you so bad, you’re the only one who can make me feel like this. Nothing else.” You pleaded with him, hoping he’d show some mercy. Maybe you were wrong earlier, maybe Matty could stand to punish you.
As if he read your mind, Matty just smirked at you. He was almost breathless as he shook his head. “You couldn’t be a good girl, my good girl, and wait. Now you have to be satisfied with a plastic dick, princess.” His grin made you infuriated, skin heating up. You moved your hand between your legs faster, closing your eyes. You felt a slap on your thigh, your skin stinging from the impact. Your eyes snapped open. “Look at me. You were thinking of me, right? Well, now I’m in front of you. Don’t be selfish, bunny.” He spit his words at you meanly, the smirk on his face making you lightheaded.
You thought you could cry. You kept a steady rhythm, but you just couldn’t hit the right spots. “Please, Doctor. Need your help, can’t do it by myself. Don’t wanna think.” You jutted your bottom lip out, hand slowing down as Matty sat up straighter. He stopped palming himself, leaning closer to you. His hands trailed up your thighs, meeting between them where your hands were.
He took over, how moving the toy inside of you with more fervor than before. His other hand came to swipe at your clit, the position had you moaning gutturally. The lewd noises that emitted as he fucked you were enough to make you embarrassed. Of course, Matty had something to say. “Little slut can’t even touch herself properly? Guess I’ll have to teach her.” He moved the dildo at a particular angle that had you screaming out.
“Oh my God, Matty! Right there- Please, I’m gonna cum.” You barely got through your sentence before three of Matty’s fingers were on your clit. They rubbed the nerves harshly, determined to get you to your climax. Your whole body shuddered as you came, slurring out a mix of his honorific and his name. Falling from your lips like a prayer. Matty fucked you through your orgasm with the toy, pulling it out of you when he saw you had come down from you high. You felt Matty’s tongue come to lap at your clit, flattening it against your juices. Your hands immediately came to tug at his hair from overstimulation.
He leaned up, pulling you in for a bruising kiss. His hands were on either side of your jaw as he slipped his tongue in your mouth. He swallowed your moans, and you could taste yourself on his tongue. “Don’t we taste good together, princess?” You nodded obediently at him, and you saw the glimmer of mischief in his eye. “Wanna taste yourself again?” He asked nonchalantly, bringing the dildo that had just been inside of you to your lips. You opened your mouth eagerly. Lips wide and tongue flat, Matty shoved the toy inside your mouth. You moaned around the object, the taste of your own juices coating on your tongue. You opened your mouth and swirled your tongue along the tip for show, watching as Matty’s eyes darkened and jaw clenched. “Don’t be a fuckin’ tease.” He pushed the toy aside, shoving your jaw away.
His hand wrapped lightly around your throat, and he brought three fingers down to your entrance. You were already so fucked out, and you knew he wasn’t stopping anytime soon. Matty’s moved his hand and pushed your (his) shirt up over your chest. He pinched and played with your exposed nipples, sucking on them until they were completely hard. He blew on your sensitive buds, reveling in the way you squirmed from the cold air.
He pushed two fingers into your cunt easily, already being so wet and open for him. You gasped, clenching your thighs as me moved his digits rapidly. “Tight little cunt, even after I stretched you out like that. Practically fucked you open.” He shook his head, spitting on your pussy. “Can’t wait to fuck you dumb, princess.” He added another finger, stretching you out even more. “Perfect little cock sleeve for me. M’glad you know your place.” Matty spoke blissfully, almost more lost in it than you.
“P-please, Doctor. Need you inside of me. Want you to fuck me and fill me up.” You babbled and nodded your head, trying to chase another high as Matty’s fingers never ceased their relentless pace. You didn’t even realize what you said, but you realized how he slightly faltered. Rhythm stopping for a beat, breath hitching. His hand moved to your stomach, pressing down.
“Yeah, princess? Want me to put a baby in there? You want everyone to know you belong to me, that your doctor got you pregnant?” He snickered, removing his hand from your pussy. He took his fingers up to his mouth, sucking off any remnants of you.
Matty stood up to unzip his pants, finally feeling relief on his hard cock. He unbuttoned his top, shrugging it off to the floor. You got lost in his tattoos, how his muscular arms bulged every time he moved. You knew your mouth was agape, and you were just feeding his ego even more. But how could you not? Especially when he steps out of his pants, pulling his briefs down. His hard cock almost slapped against his abdomen, the tip an angry red color. He was leaking pre cum, and he stroked himself twice as he squeezed his length in his fist. “Open your legs for me.”
You put your legs up on the bed, opening them as wide as your body allowed. Your panties that had been pulled to the side were now fully discarded of, as he roughly pulled them off your body. Muttering something of how he ‘wasn’t gonna let anything get in the way.’ He lined himself up with your entrance, but didn’t push himself inside of you. You took that as your window to beg for him.
“Doctor- Matty, please. I need you inside of me so bad. Just wanna feel your cock inside my cunt, it’s all I need. Wanna feel you cum inside of me.” You whined out, your rambling coming to an end as he pushed inside of you without warning. Matty made you take him to the hilt, burying himself inside of your warm cunt. Your slick pouring out around him.
Matty pounded into you, hand finding home on your neck again. His hips slapped against yours, combining with your wetness and filling the room with filthy sounds. Both you and Matty’s moans filling the empty spaces. “Cunts clinging to me, just sucking me right in. Can tell she wants me to cum inside of her.” Matty stopped his rhythm for a moment just to slap your clit. “Tell me ‘thank you’.” He said smugly.
The way he talked about your pussy made you clench around him in embarrassment, face heating up. He tightened his grip on your throat, squeezing the sides. You felt dizzy in the best way possible.
“W-why should I? You haven’t even finished with me yet.” Your smirk and bratty attitude didn’t last for long, he lightly slapped you across the face. Just enough for it to sting. Your body felt like it was buzzing, and your hole clenched around him.
“Messy girl.” He tsked, hips stuttering. He pulled his cock out of you. Making you whine in protest. “Shouldn’t even fill you up, bad girls don’t deserve my cum.” You know he’s bluffing, but your eyes go wide in fear. He wouldn’t leave you high and dry.
“N-no! Matty, m’sorry. Please, Doctor. You know I need it.” You folded immediately. Your body was restless from the lack of contact know, the only thigh touching you were his hands ghosting up your sides.
He ignored your pleas. "You know, bunny," You moan out as Matty speaks, running the tip of his cock through your soaking folds, pulling back when you try to arch into him. "Best time to try and knock you up is right now, when you're ovulating." Whines fall from your lips helplessly, pleasure being robbed from you as he keeps pulling away from your cunt. Of course he remembers the cycles of your body. "Gotta make sure it takes. Can't have you wasting my cum, right?" He chuckles at your reaction, his thumb pressing down on your clit as he brings his cock to your entrance again.
You feel full again as he presses into you, and your body felt like it was on fire. You nodded along to everything he said, easily obeying him. You needed to cum, and you needed his cum, too. “God, Matty. I’m close, please.”
“Hold it.” He replies, rubbing hard and firm circles on your button. “Tight hole is creaming around me. Little bunny, should get you a collar. Tie you down and keep this pussy stuffed full all day.” You groaned out, no longer being able to string a coherent sentence together. All you could do was shake your head. Matty chuckled. “Yeah, bunny? Like that idea? Maybe we should get you a tail, too.” Your senses were on overdrive. Matty really was fucking you dumb. And he almost seemed pussy drunk himself.
“Come on, princess. Cum around my cock, let me feel you.” He spit on his fingers, bringing them down to your clit, letting it drip down to where you two were connected. It sent you over the edge, coming for the second time that night. Your eyes rolled back in your head, throat already sore from how you were screaming his name and title. You felt Matty’s dick twitch inside of you, his steady pace faltering.
“Fuck- gonna fill this cunt up.” He groaned out in a raspy voice, and you felt the warm liquid painting your insides as his chest heaved. You moaned at the feeling, loving how he felt inside of you. You could see beads of sweat on Matty’s forehead when you opened your eyes, and a blissful smile crossed your face. You moved the hair from his forehead, and he smiled back at you.
When Matty pulled out, you winced from the empty feeling. He watched as his cum started to leak out of you, reaching up by your head to grab a pillow from the top of the bed. He positioned it under your hips, scooping up the cum that had already dripped out and pushing it back inside of you. He bumped your clit as he did so, enjoying the way you jolted. He let his fingers slip inside of you again, hooking them as he found that spot that made you go crazy. You felt tears prick your eyes. Matty poured in faux sympathy. “Oh- I know, baby. I know. S’that my spot? Just know this little cunt too well.” He curled his fingers inside of you again, leaving them now to act as a sort of plug. You giggled, slapping his shoulder. “Matty!”
“What? M’gonna make sure you get pregnant.” You could barely see the brown in his eyes, pupils completely blown out. He smiled, leaning in to kiss the top of your forehead. “Wanna see you all round and full of me. Even if that means fucking you every day this week, and again tonight.” And from his tone of voice alone, you knew Matty was deadly serious.
#divider cred: @cafekitsune#enjoy ppl <3#matty healy x oc#matty healy blurb#matty x reader#matty healy x reader#matty healy fluff#matty healy oneshot#matty healy smut#matty healy fic#matty healy x you#matty healy x y/n#matty healy x fem!reader#the 1975 smut#gyno!au#gyno!matty#gynecologist!matty#matty healy imagine
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the only time i feel i might get better - matty healy
minors dni !! this is 17+ nsfw material !!!
content: you get sick at matty's and he takes good care of you <3
word count: 4610
warnings: mention of vomit, oc is on her period :( , a bad ending, and matty being very very darling.
a/n: hi!! i know i said i wasn't going to post again for a bit but i think this is so cute and its just sitting in my drafts!! enjoy ( and pls reblog if you do! ) :)
She groaned in her sleep, stirring slightly as she felt another cramp tear through her stomach, the ache travelling down into her legs as she tucked them to her chest, brows furrowing at the sudden pain. She hadn’t slept well all night, spending an hour of it with her head in the toilet, Matty holding her hair back and rubbing her back softly, bless his heart.
Her heart dropped at the thought of him having to see her in that position, retching what little food was in her stomach, up. They were a relatively new couple, having been dating for almost 6 months, and, of course, she’d had her period around him, but she’d never gotten it at his place, and never felt as sick as she did right now around him either. She felt horrible, half from the pain in her slightly puffy, bloated, lower belly, and half from the embarrassment of him seeing her like this.
Fluttering her eyes open, she saw that Matty’s side of the bed was empty and, upon further inspection with her outstretched hand, he’d been up for a while, the sheets a crisp cold feeling compared to the warmth of her blanket cocoon. She sighed, wondering if he’d been able to go back to sleep at all after the nights events, before her thoughts of uncertainty were interrupted when he tiptoed into the room, obviously under the impression she was asleep, holding a tray of pancakes, orange juice, a cup of coffee, and a vase of fresh flowers.
He stopped when he turned towards the bed, noticing her eyes peeking out from behind the fluffy duvet, and smiled softly, head tilting to the left as her asked her sweetly, “Morning, baby. Feelin’ any better today?”
This earned him a firm shake of her head as she sat up in the bed, lip pouted slightly to show him her discontent. He cooed, placing the tray of food in front of her on the bed, ensuring the legs of the miniature table were stable before he sat down on the other side of the bed, planting a soft kiss to her temple.
“Don’t have to eat it all if you don’t want, honey, I just wanted to wake you up with something nice after you had such a horrible night.” He said, sitting cross-legged next to her on the bed. He pointed to two little white tablets that lay next to her orange juice. “Brought you some Panadol too, baby. Make sure you eat at least a little before you take it, don’t want you getting sick again, yeah?”
She nodded, “Thank you so much Matty,” She croaked, throat still sensitive from the acidic bile she’d thrown up in the night, “I’m sorry about last night.”
His eyebrows raised, face scrunching in disbelief as he tried to process what she’d just said. He moved closer to her on the bed, hand coming to rest on her knee above the blanket she’d wrapped herself in.
“Sorry?” He tutted, shaking his head, “You’ve got nothing to be sorry about baby, what'd you mean ‘sorry’?” His lips turned into a slight frown, disheartened at the fact that she felt the need to be sorry about being sick.
“Ju-Just, you havin’ to stay up with me… I just feel a bit bad that I ruined our night, I guess,” She spoke sheepishly, noticing the disappointed look on his face as she spoke.
“Oh sweetheart,” He cooed, moving to place the breakfast tray on the floor, before scooting close to her on the bed, pulling her into his chest, one hand rubbing her back in a light rhythm, the other combing through her hair. “You don’t have to say sorry, ‘kay? It’s my job to look after you. Don’t ever apologise for being sick, baby. It happens to everyone.”
He felt her nod against his chest, and he stopped his fingers carding through her hair as she looked up at him, thinking twice about leaning up to kiss him as she realised she hadn’t brushed her teeth yet this morning.
Almost as if he was reading her mind, he shook his head, laughing to himself softly.
“Baby, really?” He chuckled, brushing a little bit of sleep from her left eye with the soft pad of his thumb as he did so, “ You wanna kiss me, you can. I think we’re way beyond worrying about morning breath, don’t ya’ think, darlin’?”
She blushed, surprised that he could read her so well, shoving her face into the soft fabric of his white shirt, earning another chuckle from Matty, the sound rumbling in her mind and warming her insides, affecting her probably more than it should have given her in her ill state.
She detached from his chest, fishing the tray of food up off of the floor beside her, and placed it on the bed, before leaning into Matty again, his right arm wrapped around her as she picked at the sweet blueberries that decorated her pancakes.
She sighed contentedly, sipping on her orange juice as she lay, listening to Matty’s steady heartbeat as he sat beside her, twirling a lock of her hair around his finger lazily. She’d be lying if she said that this side of Matty didn’t turn her on, his need to comfort and protect her rising to the surface in a similar way as it did after he’d been particularly rough with her in bed. The idea of him taking care of her a particularly good one in her mind.
She felt a familiar heat pooling between her thighs as she sat beside him, glancing up at him occasionally as he typed on his phone one-handed, most likely making note of lyrics he’d thought of, his brain constantly moving 100km an hour. She watched as his slender thumb glid smoothly across his screen, pressing the keyboard expertly.
‘This shouldn’t turn me on so much.’ She thought, biting her lip lightly as she shamelessly observed him, now sitting up further in the bed to gain a better view.
She blamed it on her period. Sure, Matty was hot, and, God, she’d fuck him 10 times a day if she had the stamina, lord knows he probably did, but getting turned on by typing? That’s pathetic.
Finally, he saw her out of the corner of his eye, lower lip between her teeth and cheeks a light red as she watched him. He raised an eyebrow, turned his head to face her quizzically.
“What are you looking at?” He smiled at her and she blushed, quickly averting her eyes to the half-eaten pancake in front of her, picking at it delicately.
He laughed softly, “Going shy on me, baby?” he asked, bringing the arm that was wrapped around her shoulder up to her hair, ruffling it playfully, before leaning down to press a firm kiss to her cheek.
She tucked herself deeper into his side, having once again discarded the tray of food onto Matty’s bedroom floor. He wrapped his arm around her once more, giving her a tight squeeze.
“You okay, honey?” He asked softly, looking down at her as she lay on his chest, tracing her finger softly on the front of his t-shirt, “Feelin’ a bit clingy today? Is that it, huh?”
She nodded, moving impossibly closer to him, wrapping both her legs around his left, her arms wrapping around his bicep, clinging to him like a koala.
He chuckled softly at her, peering at her from the corner of his eye as he watched her cling to him desperately. His attention turned completely towards her however, when he heard a small whimper sound from next to him, at the same time as she’d fidgeted in her spot, causing her sensitive clit to lightly brush the side seam of his sweatpants through her thin sleep-shorts.
His eyes shot down to her, fearing that she was having the same horrible cramps she experienced in the night.
“You okay, baby? Tummy hurting again?” He asked, concern evident in his tone.
She was embarrassed, not wanting to admit that the sound was out of pleasure, not pain. So, she nodded, eyebrows creasing together as she looked up at him.
It was insane how well he could read her. From the second they met, a couple of months before they’d started going out, it was like he could see into her mind and knew almost everything she thought and could anticipate what she was going to say next.
That’s why looking up at him was a huge mistake on her part. He knew as soon as he looked at her he knew that she was lying, and he thought he knew why.
“We’re not lying now, are we sweetheart?” He asked earnestly, looking into her eyes as he spoke.
“W-what? Why would I lie?” She said, not expecting to be caught out so soon.
He raised his eyebrow at her, expecting her to have admitted her lie, “Oh, okay… so just now, when you wriggled around for a second, and I felt your cunt on my leg, it was just a coincidence that you made that little sound at the same time? Is that right?”
She flushed red, face turning to dig into his arm to hide, embarrassed at being read so easily, once again. She let out a muffled whine, annoyed both his teasing, and her horniness.
He sat up from the bed, unlatching his arm from her grasp to face her.
“Baby,” He cooed, “want you to use your words when you feel like this, ‘kay? Want you to tell me what you want.”
She nodded, still covering her flushed face, now with the duvet in place of his bicep.
“I just wanna make sure you’re feeling better after last night, honey. Don’t wanna hurt you or anything, y’know?”
He looked torn. Torn between his restraint and not wanting to take advantage of her in such a vulnerable state, and his wanting to give her everything she wants on a whim.
An idea popped into his head, and he stood from the bed, reaching down to peck a quick kiss to her forehead, muttering a ‘be right back’ before exiting the room.
She sat in his bed, awaiting his return as she sipped on the now lukewarm coffee he’d brought her. But it wasn’t very long before he came back, having discarded his shirt and sweats for reasons unbeknownst to her - though she wasn’t complaining, she could spend hours tracing the outlines of his tattoos - especially his ‘We Are Kings tattoo - whether that be with her eyes, fingertips, or tongue.
He walked over to her, boxer shorts hanging low on his hips, and flipped the duvet off her, reaching his hand out for her to take.
“C’mon baby,” He pulled her up, “ran us a bath.” He patted her on the bum softly as he walked past her and out into the hall. She followed dumbly, brain foggy from the tooth-rotting sweetness of their morning in bed together.
Stepping into the bathroom, she saw that not only had he drawn them both a bath, with bubbles in it, which she knew he didn’t like, but had meticulously placed candles around the edge of the bath.
She could’ve cried at the gesture, and she almost did, eyes growing blurry before she blinked the tears away quickly.
Matty stepped into the bathroom behind her, kissing her on the side of her cheek, then neck, as he reached for the bottom of her (his) shirt, pulling it over her head softly, before tugging her pyjama shorts down. He helped her step into the warm bath, holding his hand out for her to balance on. Once she was in, and he’d made sure the water wasn’t too hot, he tugged his boxers down his legs before stepping into the bath himself, setting himself behind her so her back rested against his chest.
She sighed in content as he brought his large hands up to her shoulders, massaging her upper back soothingly. She leant her head back against his shoulder, Matty retracting his hands from her shoulders to wrap them around her, rubbing her arms up and down soothingly.
He lent down to kiss her on the cheek, instead meeting her lips as she quickly tilted her head to meet him. Meaning for it to be a quick peck, he was surprised when she deepened it, running her tongue along his bottom lip teasingly.
He pulled back, hand resting on her jaw as he guided her lips away.
He sighed, “Baby… don’t make me be the bad guy,” he frowned, not wanting to tell her a strict no, but also not wanting to hurt her whilst she was in her particularly vulnerable state.
“Please,” she pleaded, un-slotting her legs from between his beneath the bubbles to squeeze her thighs together desperately.
He shook his head, shooting her a pleading look, “Honey, I just don’t want you to hurt yourself or to be sick again… I promise, once your period’s done I’ll do whatever you want me to, baby.”
She furrowed her brows in frustration, annoyed at his refusal. Of course, she couldn’t be that annoyed, he was only trying to ensure her comfort and safety, but this didn’t matter in her mind, not when she was this horny. What was she gonna do if he didn’t give in to her? Finger herself to no avail? They both knew that wouldn’t work, and she knew that Matty was the only one who could satiate the need in the pit of her belly.
She spun around in the bath, being careful not to spill any water out of the bath, before pushing away from him slightly to see him better. She huffed, whining “It’s not gonna hurt, promise.”
He raised an eyebrow at her, only now beginning to grasp just how desperate she was, watching as she crossed her legs, heeling digging against her clit harshly, causing her to hiss, wincing slightly at the sensitivity.
She sighed in frustration, pouting slightly as she looked at him with puppy dog eyes.
“What if– what if I said it would make me feel better? I swear, baby, if it doesn’t feel good I’ll tell you to stop.” She pleaded, pulling her lower lip between her teeth.
He eyed her carefully, thinking about it carefully. It couldn’t hurt to try, right?
He sighed, lips tugging into a smirk as he finally nodded, ushering for her to resume her previous position, between his legs, back pressed against him.
He leant down to whisper in her ear, brushing some hair away from her face as he spoke, “Make sure you tell me the second it hurts even a little, okay darlin’?”
She nodded, leaning her head back against his chest, lingering a soft kiss onto his chin.
He traced his hands up and down her thighs beneath the water, her legs automatically widening like muscle memory. He laughed breathily in her ear at her eagerness, before sliding his right hand to her core, pressing light circles to her clit as he planted soft kisses along her neck, her having tilted it to the side to grant him further access.
She moaned softly, bringing a hand up to play with the chocolate curls at the nape of his neck, tugging softly as he began to tease a finger around her entrance, keeping his slow rhythm on her clit.
“Feel good, honey?” He spoke softly into her ear, not slowing his teasing motions, but not speeding up either.
She nodded, brows furrowed as he slipped the tip of his index finger inside her.
“Use your words, baby. Need to hear you say it, ‘kay?”
“F-feels good, Matty, promise.” She stuttered out, his fingers speeding up slightly on her clit for a millisecond, before it returned to its original speed.
“Good girl,” he murmured in her ear, pushing his index finger into her cunt completely, her head slamming back to meet his chest as he curled it expertly.
Her hand that wasn’t occupied with Matty’s hair emerged from the water, where it had been gripping her thigh, and she placed it on her left boob, swiping her thumb over her nipple delicately and squeezing the soft, meaty flesh around it.
She arched her back as Matty prodded a second finger into her, curling it as he had the first. As she arched further into his chest, she felt Matty’s hard cock against her back, and teasingly wriggled against it.
He groaned, fingers speeding up as they fucked in and out of her, his hand that was rubbing her clit now came up to brush her hair out of her face, before he flicked her right nipple playfully, ripping a guttural sound from the back of her throat as he returned his hand to her clit, rubbing fast circles over it with his middle and ring finger.
He felt her cunt tighten around his fingers, thighs slamming together to stop his hands from retracting.
He pressed his plush, pink, lips to her ear, pressing airy kisses along it as he breathed, “Gonna cum for me, baby? Yeah?” He felt her become impossibly right around his fingers, and she moaned loudly as he said, “Gonna feel so much better afterwards, baby. C’mon, give it to me.”
Matty fingers stilled inside her as she came, eyes squeezing closed and toes curling as the water in the bath sloshed around them, her loud moan echoing around the bathroom. He waited for her breathing to settle slightly before slowly pulling his fingers out, the water in the bath cleaning them off.
She flipped herself over carefully, legs wobbling slightly as she straddled his right leg, her boobs planted flat against his chest. She reached up, planting a soft kiss to his lips, whining softly against them as her clit grazed his leg when she pushed herself up.
Pulling away from her lips, Matty tutted in faux annoyance, rolling his eyes playfully.
“Still not done, baby?” He asked, smoothing his hand over her hair and then resting it on her cheek as she looked up at him,
“No,” she confirmed, half-mooned, lidded eyes peering up at him.
He sighed, “What am I gonna do with you, huh?” He asked playfully, “Too horny for your own good.”
She whined as she shifted herself further up his body, his rock hard cock laying flat against her slit as it rested on his stomach. He lay back against the steeper end of the bath, hands on both hips, thumbs drawing shapes on her delicate skin.
She wriggled her hips slightly, his cock bumping over her clit multiple times before she rose to her knees, almost slipping on the slippery bottom of the bath, luckily being caught by Matty’s large hands on her hips again.
She laughed softly, looking up at him as she did so, seeing him biting his lip softly to keep in his laugh, the rumbling of his chest betraying him. She slapped his stomach playfully.
“Hey!” She scolded, “Don’t laugh at me,” She said with a fake pout on her face.
Matty cooed, laughter still rumbling in his chest as he spoke, “Aw, sorry honey, it's just, when I said I didn’t want you to get hurt, I didn’t mean slipping over in the bath and dying.” He giggled as he spoke, and she couldn’t help but grin at him, pouncing onto him to plant a sweet kiss to his lips, before pulling away.
Her brows furrowed and index finger pointed at him as she reprimanded him, trying her best to keep her face straight as she spoke, “Okay! No more laughing,” Her eyes narrowed at him accusingly, “back to sex.”
He nodded stiffly, hand coming up to his head as he saluted her militarily, firmly repeating her previous statement.
She giggled softly, lifting her leg up with help from Matty, before shifting herself on top of him completely, his hard cock trapped between her sticky cunt and his firm belly. She groaned as she rocked back and forth slowly, before pushing herself up slightly, grabbing the base of his cock, tapping it on her clit a few times before she pushed it into herself, sighing in content as she sunk down, the full feeling in her tummy satiating the desire she’d been holding there all day.
He groaned softly, brows knitting together as she sunk all the way down onto his cock, her clit brushing against the groomed pubic hair at the base. His hands rested on her hips, rubbing shapes softly as he helped guide her up and down on his length. She was so tight around him, clamping down hard when he moved a hand from her hip down to rub her tender, puffy clit.
She moaned breathily, back arched and head thrown back as she bounced on his cock rapidly, water splashing around the bath and onto the floor. Her right hand rested on Matty’s ‘We are Kings’ tattoo, providing her with leverage to move quicker, and her left hand wrapped tightly around his wrist, nails digging into his Mortal Kombat tattoo as her orgasm approached her.
Matty felt her hips faltering slightly, and her thighs began to shake, causing him to tighten his grip on her hips, holding her still as he slammed his hips up to meet hers. She whined loudly, his thick cock filling her completely, slamming against her cervix with every unyielding thrust.
“Feelin’ good, baby? He asked breathily, panting slightly, his curls falling in his face, sticking to his slightly damp forehead.
She responded the only way she could through her foggy, fucked-out brain, squeezing his forearm impossibly tight and keening loudly, before her mouth fell open in a silent scream.
He continued his relentless pace, bringing them both closer and closer to cumming. His brows knitted together in concentration as he tried to keep his pace consistent, but he was struggling. She was so fucking tight, squeezing him like she was afraid that if she didn’t, he’d somehow disappear.
Thankfully, he could tell she was close, her lower lip pulled between her teeth and cheeks rosy, and he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t had to hold his orgasm since the second he’d slipped into her. Something about his cock and her cunt fit so right, he could probably cum just at the thought of it.
Matty looked up at her through the mess of wet curls in front of his eyes, “Need you to rub your clit for me now, ‘kay honey?”.
She immediately obeyed, bringing the hand that was wrapped around his wrist to rub her clit at a harsh pace. She cried out, hand faltering slightly at the intense pressure building in her lower belly.
She was so close, she just needed something, anything, to push her over the edge, and almost as though Matty read her mind, he leaned forward, attaching his mouth to her left breast, swirling his tongue around and biting lightly at her perked up nipple.
The hand rubbing her clit and rapid hip movements halted as she felt Matty, whose head now rested on her shoulder, still inside her, groaning loudly as he came inside her, rope after rope of his sticky cum coating her walls. She wailed, eyes rolling back into her head as the tightness in her stomach finally released. She leaned forward to bite Matty’s shoulder softly, tears streaming down her cheeks at the intensity of both her orgasms.
She slipped her arms out from between their chests, wrapping them tightly around Matty’s neck before pressing her head into his neck, sighing contently.
Matty smiled softly against her, lifting the hand that still rested on her left hip to rub her back gently.
“Water’s gone all cold, sweetheart,” He said, slightly muffled by the delicate skin of her shoulder.
She shrugged lazily in his arms, murmuring back a sweet, “M’cozy.”
“Y’cosy?” He bit back a soft laugh at her lovely voice, “Not gonna be so ‘cosy’ when you get a cold, honey.” He continued rubbing her back, cooing inwardly when he heart a soft sniffle beneath him.
“How ‘bout this, baby, let me get out, and I’ll go get your clothes, get you nice and dry, and then we can go back to this exact position in my bed… That sound good?”
She nodded weakly against his chest, and that's exactly what they did. Quickly pulling on a new pair of sweats, he remembered he’d laid out some boxers and an old sweatshirt of his on the bed before he’d gotten in the bath, and he was particularly grateful for it now, grabbing the pile off the bed, and a towel warmed from the dryer, before speed-walking back to the bathroom. He knocked softly before walking in, wanting to be safer than sorry, and heard a soft hum from behind the door. A sign to enter, he assumed.
Walking in, he saw that she was still in the exact position he’d left her in, knees tucked to her chest, with her chin rested against her knees. He cooed, putting her new clothes on the basin before helping her stand in the bath, opening the warm towel and wrapping it around her body, her hands poking out to keep it wrapped around herself as he scooped her up, setting her down to sit on the lid of the toilet.
Grabbing the clothes off the basin, he slipped the soft grey sweater over her head, and pulled his boxers up her legs, pressing a kiss to her forehead once she was dressed.
She murmured a ‘thank you’, to which he responded by kissing her again, this time on her lips, before picking her up again, placing a hand on her left knee, pushing it to wrap around his waist, before doing the same to her right.
Keeping her steady with a hand on her bum, he walked the few steps to his bed as quickly as possible. He held her up with one hand as he used the other to pull back the covers, before carefully crawling into the bed, being sure not to disturbed her comfort in his arms as he did so.
Wrapping the soft duvet around the both of them, he looked down at her to see her smiling up at him. He beamed back at her, dimples visible in his cheeks, before leaning down to press a soft kiss to her puffy lips.
She sighed in content, pulling away from the kiss and resting her head on his shoulder again, nose nuzzling against the soft skin of his neck. He smiled to himself, before picking up his phone from the bedside table, checking his notifications quickly before he opened Instagram, scrolling aimlessly through his reels. He swiped upon a particularly funny minions meme, pushing air out of his nostrils in a half-laugh, before angling his phone down to show her. He looked down to watch her reaction, his favourite thing in the world being to see her laugh - it was automatically a great day for him whenever he was the one to coax a giggle from her - but instead saw she was asleep, lips parted slightly, and eyebrows relaxed.
He smiled fondly down at her, using the arm she was laying on to rub soothingly up and down her arm. He clicked ‘Save’ on the meme, telling himself to remember to show her later, before he opened Safari, logging into Twitter, or ‘X’ now, - ‘so fucking stupid’ he thought - looking to see what fans had to say about their new show, ‘Still… at their very best.’
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Facedown - Matty Healy
A/N: I don't shag men irl, so soz if there are any inaccuracies regarding the ins and outs of anal xx thank you to my mates @beforeyougo-turnthebiglightoff, @man-im-so-high and @awellposhmagazine for indulging in my stupid questions and mental breakdowns in the GC❤️
wc: 7k
content warnings: smut, fluff, dirty talk, pegging, praise, also a bit of degradation depending on how you look at it, use of sex toys (strap), mentions of lingerie/matty in womens clothing, sex shops, spit, masochism, cursing, polaroids/cameras, so picture kink?, girlie immortalizes him in a picture let it be poetic
“I want you to fuck me.”
You choke on air. Matty is a blunt person, always has been, never really caring for beating around the bush. You didn't mind it, but you feel like he could’ve worded that a bit more eloquently. He’s laying on top of you, hair tickling the bottom of your chin, curls obstructing a bit of your vision.
“Okay, fucking hold up, what?” you're convinced you've misheard him. Even he wouldn't be that blunt. He takes a deep breath, his tone slow and condescending
“I said, I want you to fu-” you hit him, giggling in disbelief. He jumps back in surprise, a grin spreading onto his face. He was actually serious.
“I fucking heard what you said, jesus.” Matty has this look in his eye when he’s about to do something he knows you won't like, this glimmer in his eye, and you see it so clearly. His hand grabs your face, licking across your cheek, starting from the edge of your jaw. You squirm away, wiping your skin with your hand, throwing curses at him.
“Fuck's sake, you're like a dog. Behave and I'll give you a treat, christ.”
“Depends on what the treat is.” he winks at you, grinning widely as you screw your eyes shut in annoyance. He just wouldn't let up, like it would kill him to be PG for even five seconds.
“So?” he asks, referring to his original statement.
‘I want you to fuck me.’
His words echo through your head, making all sorts of images flash in front of your eyes. Of course he notices, trailing his fingers up your bare arm, making goosebumps kiss your skin in his wake.
It's hard to even think straight, the suddenness of the question making your head spin. The two of you had never talked about it before, thinking it wasn't even on the table.
“Are you- are you sure?” you stutter out, a small part of you scared he was joking, trying to see how you would react. His answer makes you sigh in relief.
“Never been more sure.'' He's smiling, a genuine, reassuring smile.
“Actually?”
“No, I meant metaphysically, philosophically-” he deadpans, but it takes only a few seconds for him to crack up laughing, burying his face into your chest, trying to stifle his giggles.
You breathe out, weaving a gentle hand through his hair, guiding him up to kiss you, lips locking as he gasps softly. You stay like that for a while, kissing and holding each other, neither wanting to let go.
“You're mental.” you mumble when he pulls away, brushing a small strand of hair out of your eyes, sweetly tucking it behind your ear.
“Yet, you love me.” It's so perfect. His body is warm against yours, acting as a sort of weighted blanket, pressing you into the sofa. The scent of his perfume is strong, tinged with a hint of the spliff you’d both smoked earlier.
—-------------------------------------------------------------
You can tell he’s never been in an actual sex shop by the was his eyes widen when you enter, flicking between the multitude of displays and posters, having no idea where or what to look at. His hand grasps yours, one goal in mind as you both step inside, heading towards a specific aisle. Strap-ons.
Even if it was his first visit, he seems immediately at home, casually browsing through strap-ons and vibrators like he was in a department store, looking at lampshades or containers. At some point, you manage to break away from him, finding yourself in the lingerie section, lace and silk and satin surrounding you on all sides. Your fingers graze over a specific pair of green lace panties, the material soft to the touch.
Your mind goes back to that night, to the memory of Matty, on your bed, shirtless and panting, the only thing concealing him a pair of lacey black womens underwear. You wonder if he’d be into it, buying more stuff like that, or if he maybe had more back home, hidden in a secret corner of his drawer.
You're snapped back into reality by a repetitive tap on your shoulder, turning around to see it was Matty. He was holding something in his hand; a light purple, see through strap, decorated with specks of glitter and incredibly detailed. You blush at the sight, before remembering where you actually were. It looked big in his hands, intimidating almost.
“This one’s pink and glittery! Fucking awesome, who knew they had so many types?” he booms, holding it up right in front of your face. A few people turn, but most ignore his loud proclamation, going back to their own shopping.
“You're so girly, Jesus christ.” you snigger, stifling a crude laugh. It was so Matty, always one to pick the most extravagant, out of the ordinary, even when it came to sex toys.
“Don’t make me fucking start-” he threatens, and you promptly cover his mouth with your palm, staring deep into his eyes.
“Shut it.” and to your surprise, he did.
He goes back to the isle he came from, looking for more options. You’d expected it to be more uncomfortable, but you felt light, like anything was on the table. Seeing him move out of your sight, you turn back to the fabric you’d been admiring earlier, running your fingers over it, and out of the corner of your eye, something shiny catches your attention. Garters.
Your core stirs at the thought of Matty in garters, maybe even stockings or heels. You wonder if he’d even be into it, or if that was where his adventures in femininity ended. Lost in your fantasies, you don't even realize you’d picked something up. A black garter, little heart details making it sparkle in the low light of the shop, leather and metal cool against your skin.
“Oh?” you hear a teasing voice say from behind, making you jump slightly. Clutching the object between your fingers, you spin around, eyes meeting Matty’s, and he has this filthy grin on his face, knowing he’s caught you.
“What's this?” he takes it from your hand, looking at it closely. His eyes light up when he realizes what it is, or more, who it's for. Matty’s ego inflates as he dangled in front of you, relishing in your flustered reaction, a blush creeping onto your face.
“Is this meant for me?” he asks, pressing it onto his thigh over his jeans, trying to figure out how it would look. He moves to the mirror located off to the side to get a better look, admiring himself in the mirror.
“You don't have to- it's just an idea.” you say defensively, scared he’ll find it weird or odd or-
“It's a wonderful one. Do tell me more, darling.” his hand trails up your arm, landing on your shoulder. You don't have time to react as he pulls you in for a kiss, short and hot. A suggestion.
You stare at him for a few moments, not sure how to react.
“What else do you want to see me in? This, perhaps?” he struts over to the lingerie section, picking up a pair of silk panties, showing them to you. You nod your head, earning a sly grin and a wink from Matty as he puts them into his little basket.
“Or are you more of a lace kinda gal?” There's a hint of tease in his voice as he holds up another pair. The green pair.
Your breath hitches as he stares at you, looking for a reaction, smiling victoriously when he sees it. Raising his eyebrows, he wordlessly adds them to the growing pile of merchandise he’s accumulated in the short span he’d been wandering around the store.
“Fucking hell.” you mutter under your breath as he grabs your hand, dragging you over to the garters. It all seems unreal, the way he confidently shows off the pieces over his clothes, ‘modeling’ for you in front of other shoppers, utterly shameless.
“I'll wear it for you, you just have to tell me what you want.” he parrots your words back at you. ‘Just tell me what you want, Matthew’
If only he knew.
“You look pretty in everything Matty, I'd rather you pick.”
“And I'd rather you be turned on, hm? C’mon, tell me, I don't bite.” you giggle a bit at his choice of words, the marks on your neck contradicting his statement.
“You like it when I'm pretty for you?” he whispers into your ear, the words going straight to your core. Your knees feel weak, ready to buckle at any moment if he keeps talking like that.
Nodding frantically, you press a small kiss to his lips, taking his hand. You lead him to the shoes, heels and boots of all heights and colors stacked neatly in piles against a wall.
“Oh, I'm liking this turn of events.” he grins, hands reaching out to touch a specific pair of black platforms, adorned with small gemstones along the strap. You had a similar pair, knowing just how hard they were here to walk in.
“You are?” you question, feeling his free hand wrap around your waist, bringing the shoes up for you to touch, the leather rough under your fingertips.
“You turn me on so much it fucking hurts. I love being your little fantasy, all dolled up for you.” he speaks slowly, quiet enough so that only you can hear. You cough, almost choking on air as he adds the shoes to the basket, walking off as though nothing happened.
“This one?” he asks, holding up another toy. A pale pink strap-on, less glittery than the last one, but still incredibly eye-catching. You eye him up and down, the way he stood like he was holding the most normal thing ever appalling you.
“You sure?” he nods enthusiastically, eyes silently begging you to say yes. “Imagine how pretty i’d look, imagine the pictures-”
Oh, he loved to tease you about those, your collection of filthy polaroids growing larger and larger the longer you were together, stashed at the bottom of your nightstand.
“Sure you can take it?'' The expression on his face is priceless as you fight fire with fire, his grin vanishing, being replaced with an embarrassed blush dusting his face.
He wordlessly adds it, walking off in the direction of the till. You follow closely, watching him take a bottle of lube (strawberry flavored, because it's Matty) from the shelf, placing it in the basket.
It was all so new, uncharted territory for both of you. Sure, he teased and you teased back, throwing witty retorts at each other until one eventually gave up, but you were both equally nervous and excited, the idea absolutely thrilling.
The bus ride back home is slightly awkward, the bags in your hands adorning the very obvious logo of the sex shop you’d just been in, earning judging glances from strangers. Matty remains unbothered, engrossed in an old edition of vogue he’d bought at check out. You watch him leaf through the pages, inspecting outfits and designs, muttering when he doesn't agree with them. It was endearing, watching him critique world famous fashion designers, like his opinion would hold and weight in a proper argument.
200 quid was what the trip had cost you, spending way more than you had planned. Matty had paid for it with his parents' money that they sent to him every so often, wanting him to be able to live comfortably even if they were away. You felt sort of bad, offering to use your own cash, quickly being swatted away by an insistent Matty.
“I have to pay, seeing as I am a gentleman. Besides, you're going to be taking great care of me later, so-” you manage to cut him off with a stealth elbow in the ribs, sparing the poor cashier from one of his terribly inappropriate rants.
—----------------------------------------------------
Home is comfortable, much unlike the harsh summer weather and the beating sun that waited for you outside. Unlocking the door, you've met with the soft hum of the air conditioner, the cool air kissing your skin. Matty lets out a relieved sigh as he finally sets down the bags, stretching his arms over his head. You catch a glimpse of his lower stomach, a small trail of hair traveling from his belly button and into the waistband of his pants, which were hung obscenely low on his hips.
“Do you want to-” you're cut off by Matty’s lips on yours, one hand gripping onto the base of your neck, the other pulling you in by the waist. Despite being almost three inches taller, you manage to overpower him quickly, pressing him into the wall behind him. He gasps against your lips, his fingers digging into your hips as you grasp him by the hair, tugging him down to meet you.
“Desperate, much?” you say condescending, one of your fingers trailing down the hollow of his throat, grazing the skin enough to leave a faint red mark.
He loved seeing the aftermath of you on his body, and you’ve caught him admiring himself in the mirror more than once, running his fingertips over the bruises and scratches, reliving the moments that caused them. It's not like he left you bare, either, the complete opposite, actually. Your neck was full of hickeys in various colors, some more faded than others.
He loved using his teeth, and had once left an incredibly obvious bite mark on the skin just above your collarbone, getting disgusted and borderline traumatized looks from both Ross and George. Adam never did mention i, but you caught him stealing glances at both of you, his tell tale ‘what the actual fuck did you do’ look on his face.
“You’re one to talk, don’t think I didnt see how you looked at me back there.” he smirks against your lips, tongue swiping along your bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth. You use your body weight to hold him up against the wall, pressing a knee right between his legs, a move he loved to use on you, and watching you grind against him is his favorite sight in the whole world.
His hips buck against your lower half, his hard-on brushing up against your thigh. He groans at the slight friction, repeating the action until you stop him.
“Please, fuck- please.” he breathes, eyeing the bag on the ground behind you with a look of pure lust on his face.
Your knees feel weak, your stomach flipping as he reaches out to touch your face, trailing his fingers down your jaw and onto your neck, lovingly pressing kisses all over your skin, almost as if to try and convince you of something.
Wordlessly, you grab him by the collar of his shirt, leading him down the long hallway and up the stairs, almost tripping. You near the bedroom, unable to take your hands off each other as he pathetically whimpers into your mouth, nails clawing at your back.
The door swings open and you push him forward until the back of his knees hit the bed, making him fall onto it.
“Been thinking ‘bout this for a while, haven't you?” he nods slowly, chest heaving from the sheer force of your kiss, leaving him breathless.
“You can’t imagine.” he answers, eyes looking up at you from his spot on the bed, wide and full of want.
“So pretty.” you whisper to yourself, reaching down to push his shirt up, revealing that little bit of hair on his stomach, so incredibly sexy it made your head spin.
“Take your shirt off for me, I'll be back.” you kiss him again, softly this time, not even looking at his reaction before turning around and disappearing through the door. Your legs carry you as fast as they can go, taking two steps at a time as you race downstairs, eyes settling on the hot pink paper bag left abandoned on the floor.
Rifling through the pile of various clothes, underwear, gags, toys; really anything you could think of, your breath hitches as your fingers brush against cold resin. Of course it was made of resin, ridiculously expensive as well, typical Matty. You laugh to yourself, taking a close look at the toy in your hands.
It was pale pink, hyper realistic veins running down the sides of it, the actual strappy part a deep purple, almost black. Your heart thrums against your ribcage, almost forgetting one vital thing: the lube.
The sight before you open the door again is one that should be chiseled into stone and hung up for thousands of years. Matty is on the bed, further up so that his head is resting on the metal bed frame up against the wall, it being more comfortable that way. His shirt is off, just like you had told him.
One thing made you freeze. His hand was covering his lower half, palming his obvious hard on through his insanely tight jeans. It looked painful, well hidden by the filthy smirk that tugged at the corners of his lips, making your heart skip a beat.
“Kept me waiting.'' His voice is low, raspy, and desperate, even if he tries to play it off. You move without thinking, watching his eyes flicker over to the toy in your hand, which you place onto the bed out of his reach.
“Not my fault you can't go five seconds without touching yourself.” you shoot back, kneeling onto the soft mattress.
“Sort of is, isn't it?” he sounds playful, almost giddy as you catch his lips in a kiss.
“You were begging so nicely before, what happened?” you fake pout at him, putting on a slightly condescending tone as he rolls his eyes at you.
“I caught my breath.” he says, hands settling on your hips as you straddle him properly, his aching cock grinding against the curve of your ass. It feels amazing, your ego swelling as you take him in, needy and wanting for you and you only.
“Yeah?”
“Might have to take it again.”
You get what he’s playing at immediately, reaching up to wrap your hand around his throat. Matty lets out a choked gasp, eyes widening at the sensation.
“Fuck-” he’s cut off by you pressing down harder, watching all the blood in his head rush down south.
“What? Couldn't quite hear you, speak up.” you taunt, loving watching him struggle to answer you, all that came out being needy gasps and curses.
“Please-” his breath hitches when you reach down to skillfully unbutton his pants with one hand, silently thanking the gods above he had decided to forgo a belt today, peeling the jeans off of him. He lets out a choked moan as you grip him through his boxers, wishing he had worn a pair of women’s panties, knowing it would rile you up even more.
“What? Use your words, Matthew, tell me what you want.” you tease, ignoring his silent begging, only slightly letting go of his throat, scared he wasn't properly getting oxygen.
“Touch me, please.” he manages to force out, tears of relief welling up in his eyes when you take him out of his boxers, stroking his cock lightly.
“This all for me? All because of that toy? Filthy, filthy boy.” his mind blanks, ecstacy overtaking his body and mind, the only thing he could think of was how fucking lucky he was. The strap is only visible in the corner of your eye as you kiss him hard, slipping your tongue into his mouth, drinking in every little gasp.
You dig your thumb into his slit, his hips arching off the bed and into your hand, spurts of precum leaking out of his tip. You smile at his reaction, one question still running through your mind. This was all so new, and you were riffing off of what you already knew he liked, trying to build up as much tension as possible.
“Have you done this before?” he takes a second to answer, slowly nodding his head. You motion for him to elaborate. A pang of insecurity rushes through you at the thought of him doing this with someone else, another person seeing him like this. You push it all down, turning your full attention to Matty.
“Only alone, trying some things out..” his voice is uncharacteristically small, eyes avoiding you as he stutters over the second part of his sentence, clearly a bit embarrassed.
“Oh yeah? Did it feel good?” you encourage him, desperate to make him feel as comfortable as possible. He smirks, and you can basically see the memories flash behind his eyes.
Alone, late at night. Curiosity striking, clothes hitting the floor of his old bedroom. A mess of lube and spit, fingers experimentally curling upwards and finally, finally hitting that perfect spot deep inside of him, making him moan into his pillow, trying to muffle the sound.
But of course, Matty has to do and say something so utterly stupid, it makes your eyes hurt from rolling them.
“It’ll feel so much better if you do it for me, darling. Treat me right and all, seeing as I am your girl-” you playfully hit his arm, effectively shutting him up. He wasn't fully wrong, but the way he worded it was purposefully supposed to make you cringe, your eyes screwing shut and hands going to cover your face in embarrassment.
“Shut up, what is your damage?” you ask, glaring at him as he tries his best to stifle his giggles. It's infectious, and soon you start laughing as well, falling into his arms, losing it at the ridiculousness of the situation.
“Can you take nothing seriously?” It's a rhetorical question, but he still answers.
“Nothing.” he drags out the word, mocking you.
You take this opportunity to tug at his cock, wiping the smug grin directly from his face. It was satisfying, watching him go from cocky and borderline bratty, to a sweet, moldable putty in the palm of your hand, willing to do whatever you asked of him.
“A-ah oh fuck, i’m not gonna- stop.” he gasps, trying to push you off. You fight back, pinning him down using your entire body, your fingertips ghosting over his cock.
“Gotta get you ready to take me, don't want it to hurt, do you?” your voice drips with lust, relishing in the wanton sounds he lets out at your words. Matty looks at you, mouth slightly ajar as if trying to say something. You nod at him.
“I can- I can show you. If you want. We both know how much you like to watch me.” he gestures to the camera sitting on the nightstand, grinning from ear to ear.
“Go on.” you whisper, your voice cracking.
He flips around, and you use this little bit of time to slip your own clothes off, leaving your shirt and panties on, settling onto the bed behind him.
His hands reach for the bottle of lube, blindly feeling around for it. You hand it to him with a sickly sweet smile, making his stomach flip as he spreads his legs, a performative moan leaving his lips as he uncaps it with his teeth, pouring the liquid onto his fingers.
It's weird, seeing him in this position, facedown against the mattress, tugging his boxers down with his clean hand. He can feel your eyes on him, raking over his milky skin, watching him take a deep breath as the cool lube hits his skin.
“You look pretty.” you hear him snigger into the pillow at the breathlessness of your voice.
“Right? Good genes, innit?” he says smugly, craning his head around to get a look at your annoyed expression.
“Oh fuck off.” you smack him on the arse, taking the piss out of his stupid comments.
He gasps, and now it's your turn to be smug, grazing your nails over the skin you’d just hit
“Seriously? That turned you on?” he nods, tracing his lube covered fingers over his hole, shivering a bit before pushing one in.
A string of moans and curses spill from lips, panting as his back arches at the intrusion. You watch him with wide eyes, taking every minuscule twitch of his body as he curls them slightly, going even deeper. You commit everything to memory, wanting this moment to last forever, and you reach out to trail your hands down his sides, digging your slightly grown out nails into his hips, making him moan into the pillows.
“Giving me a proper show then. Anything to get my attention, right?” you mumble, leaning over him as he fingers himself for you, groaning and twitching against the mattress, overcome with pleasure.
“It’s working isn't it?” he forces out, the feeling of your chest pressed to his back making his eyes roll back in his head, his tip leaking spurts of precum onto the sheets
“Fuck, yeah, its working.”
His fingers brush up against a certain spot inside of him and he quite literally shakes, arching and pushing down onto his digits, his body begging for more. You watch, entranced in every movement he makes, in a sort of daze.
You could sense him gaining back a sense of confidence when he peers back at you, seeing your blissed out expression at the sight of him fucking himself open for you, moans and whimpers going straight to the growing heat in your core.
“Wanna fuck me? Make me moan for you?” he teases, moving his lube covered hand to his cock, tugging at himself as you pull him closer. The strap next to you burns a hole into your brain, and you reach for it, hand gliding over the resin.
“Wanna take a pretty picture with that little camera of yours?” That was the final straw that made you scramble up, fumbling with the fastens of the toy, unbuckling them and slipping it over your underwear, the weight of it a bit strange.
“I’m going to make you eat those words.” you threaten, one of your hands threading through his hair, pulling his face up before dropping it back onto the pillows. He whimpers at the sharp pain radiating from his scalp, spreading all the way to his fingertips that clutch the sheets so tightly, his knuckles look pale white.
“It's what I'm counting on, darling.” he winks, arching his back towards you, grinding his arse against your strap. This was really happening. Sucking in a deep breath, you steady yourself on your knees, taking the toy into your hand, circling his hole with it. A sigh of pleasure leaves his parted lips as he relaxes into the bed, arse up and face buried into the dark blue fabric of his pillow.
The sound of the lube covering the strap is a bit awkward, and you both laugh lightheartedly, nervous and excited to do this with each other, to each other. He groans as you finally line up with his entrance, the tip teasing him as he bucks back onto it.
“Want me to go slow?” you ask, slightly nervous, scared of doing something wrong or god forbid, hurting him in any way.
“Fuck me slow, yeah?” His words drip with lust, raspy and deliberately drawn out. He notices your hesitation, and his hand reaches back to grab yours, rubbing reassuring circles into the skin of your palm.
“Jesus, you make it sound so filthy.” His vulgar words were nothing new, his cocky manner only another tool to get you to lose it on him, never showing mercy. Just like he liked it. Rough, hard, fast, never ending pleasure until both of you were fully satisfied.
“Stop being a tease and just fuck me.” he was now at the point of making demands, blatantly ignoring the imbalance of power between you. You tut at him, nails digging into the fat of his arse, making him wince in pain.
“Not in a place to be demanding things from me, are you now?” your tone is deliciously condescending, making his cock involuntarily twitch under him, begging for attention.
“You want it just as much as me.” he breathes loudly, a feeble attempt at trying not to sound as desperate as he really was, not wanting to admit defeat.
“Make me mess, fuck me dumb, I know you want to.” an animalistic groan rips itself from your throat as you push into him, feeling the smallest bit of resistance at first.
Remembering his little reaction from earlier, you experimentally smack the side of his arse, right where its curve meets the top of his thigh, and he shudders beneath you, crying out in pleasure. You don't know what you're doing, but you do gain a flicker of confidence when he grinds down against the bed, mumbling into the pillow. Asking him to speak up, his face is now visible as he moans, hips pushing back onto the toy as you pull back out, leaving him feeling empty.
You snap your hips forward, a bit harsher this time, watching and listening for his reaction, wanting to make it feel as good as possible for him. He was trusting you with the most intimate part of him, giving up almost all control as his arms go slack under him, nothing holding his body up anymore.
“Fuckk, that's so good.” he breathes as you set a delicate but even rhythm, speeding up a bit with every thrust as he slowly gets used to the sensation. It takes a few minutes of fucking him at an agonizing pace until you feel his whole body tense up, a choked moan spilling from his parted, spit covered lips. Your breath hitches at the sight of him drooling, eyes screwed shut in pure bliss.
“OH FUCKK- right there right there right there jesus christ, fuck-” he curses, clawing around him, trying to find something to bring him back down to reality as your strap brushes up against his G-spot. There's a wet patch on the bed under him, precum covering the blue fabric of the sheets.
“Sound so pretty, all for me.” you hit that same spot over and over as he pathetically cries out your name, begging for you to go faster.
“Please, it's so good, so good, fuck me please oh FUCK.” you oblige, gripping onto his hips as you slam back into him, his back arching sharply as you pant, your cheeks a bright red. Your whole body is flushes crimson, your cunt clenching around nothing as you get off to the sounds and movements he makes, your witty words getting caught in the back of your throat
You're so incredibly turned on that everything else disappears around you, your only focus being a desperate Matty under you, writhing in pleasure as he experiences actual heaven, his whole body covered in a thin layer of sweat, making him glow in the dim light of the bedroom.
Sinful sounds fills the bedroom, reverberating off the walls making you feel dizzy, partially from the effort and partially from the boy in your bed, whimpering your name betweens strings of curses, begging you to just fuck him harder.
Matty, though he hates it, is awfully predictable. He has cues that let you know when he’s close, his voice pitching up several octaves as you slam into him, never faltering.
You take the opportunity to press your chest against the curve of his back, hard nipples rubbing against his skin through your thin shirt. Your voice is low, whispering lewd promises against his ear, occasionally nibbling at the skin, sucking a hickey into it.
“Gonna cum for me? I can see you leaking all over the sheets, dirty boy” he cries at your words, tears of overwhelming pleasure streaming down his face, leaving small stains on the pillow.
“Yesyesyes please don’t stop- so close.” he begs, every part of his body twitching and tensing, so close to the edge he could taste it.
You don't know what possesses you. Maybe it was his comment from earlier, his tone playful and teasing, eyes dark with desire.
“Wanna take a pretty picture with that little camera of yours?”
It's like a foreign force taking over your body. You still, ignoring Matty’s pleas for you to keep going, his hips bucking wildly onto the toy still deep inside of him.
“No- nonono please, i was so close, fuck.” you click your tongue at him, effectively shutting him up
He winces when you move, hand reaching for something on the nightstand, not even realizing what you were doing. The plastic is heavy in your hands, black lense staring back at you as you reposition yourself behind Matty, the tip of your strap teasing his hole.
He thinks you’ll continue as normal, that you'll give him what he’s been craving this entire time. All he wants to do is cum, mind so clouded with desire that he could barely speak properly
Your hands threads into his hair, his neck limp as you pull him up by it. Your fingers find the shutter, knowing you had to act fast to get the result you so desperately wanted.
Pulling his head further back so his whole face was visible, you position the camera in front of it, the sight of the lense making Matty’s heart skip a beat.
Right as you take the picture, you violently snap your hips forward, thrusting into him at a brutal pace, making his face contort in ecstasy, mouth falling open, revealing a pink tongue between his lips.
The camera flash is disorienting for him, the shutter barely heard over his impossibly loud moans, the sounds making you feel weightless.
He lets out a high laugh as he fully gets what you’d just done, only proving his earlier point further. His little victory is interrupted by his impending orgasm, the combination of the pressure from your strap on his G-spot and the delicious friction of the sheets rubbing against his cock sending him into a lust driven frenzy.
His moans are high pitched, almost feminine as he buries his face into his slack arms, trying to bite back his noises. You tell him to quit it, demanding to hear every single cry that leaves his lips.
“You’re such a brat, acting like I cant have you fucking purring under me in the blink of an eye.” you speak, an intense feeling of power and control taking your body as you slam into him, licking up the skin of his bare neck, making him shudder under your touch.
“I promise i’ll be good- just please let me cum.” he’s a blubbering mess, tears rolling down his cheeks as you tug harshly on his hair, the pain only making it harder for him to hold off his orgasm.
“Please- I need it so bad- fuck, please.”
“Oh, you need it, do you?” you taunt him, your fingers moving to shove their way into his mouth, pressing down on his wet, hot tongue. The whimper he lets out as you gag him makes your brain short circuit, your eyes are fixed on the way he grinds his hips to meet your frantic thrusts, desperate to get himself off.
“Go on then, cum all over our nice sheets. Make everything dirty, just like you are, aren't you darling?” the filthy words spill from your lips before you could even think, and Matty stills for a second before moaning around your fingers, bucking against the mattress.
“So good, so fucking good- oh my god, fuck, feels so good-” his words are muffled by your fingers, and as much as you need to hear him, you let it slide, wanting your perfect boy to finally come undone. He cums with a scream, an actual, guttural scream of your name, convulsing under your touch as you reach around and grip his cock, working him through his orgasm.
He gasps as ropes of cum paint the sheets, covering your hand. You slow down your thrusts, not wanting to rip him out of his dazed state just yet. He whimpers as you pull out, feeling strangely empty without you filling up every inch of him. His body is limp against the bed, chest heaving trying to take in as much oxygen as possible as he comes down from his high, slowly but surely.
You yelp when a hand grips the side of your arm suddenly, pulling you down onto the bed next to him. Matty’s sweet smile makes your heart swell up with love as you make eye contact, his brown eyes drooped half shut in pleasure.
“Fucking mint.” he breathes, giggling as you roll your eyes at his utterly unsexy reaction to you fucking his brains out.
“Really?”
His smile turns into a grin as he pulls you in for a kiss, lips pressing firmly against yours. You hand cups his cheeks, wiping aways what's left of his tears.
“I fucking love you, that was world altering, fuck me.”
“I already did, remember?” the opportunity was right there, and you both erupt into a fit of laughter at your bad jokes, grinning widely at each other. Matty lets out a grossed-out groan when he accidently rolls into the wet patch he had left in the bed, crying at the feeling of the damp fabric against his bare legs.
But, in typical Matty fashion, he opts to just cope, too lazy and fucked out to do anything about it. You try to convince him to get up, shower, maybe do anything except roll around in his cum soaked sheets. He flat out refuses, gripping your waist so tightly you felt Matty-shaped bruises form on the skin.
He forces you to lay with him, not letting you get up.
“Did it hurt?” you ask tentatively, genuinely curious. He shakes his head, trying to describe the sensation.
“A bit, but it felt really fucking great after about two seconds, so totally worth it.” he kisses you again, softer but still passionate, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down lightly.
“Did you like it?” he asks, trailing a finger up and down your arm, scratching it comfortingly.
All you can do is smile, the memory of what you felt making you giddy.
“I felt powerful.” you confess, a faint blush spreading onto your already flushed cheeks. Might as well let it all out, right?
“You like being powerful?” you nod your head, confirming the sneaking suspicion he’s had since that very first night on his living room sofa.
“I like it when you hurt me.” you laugh, that information having been painfully obvious for a while now.
“I know, darling, you make it so obvious.” he curses at you for quote un-quote ‘kink shaming’ him, immediately mentioning your little knack for photography.
“What do you do with the pictures?” you’ve never told him what happens to the polaroids after they properly develop, stashed in your nightstand drawer.
“I don't kiss and tell.” you snigger at his hurt reaction, now even more desperate to know what goes on in your mind when your finger presses down on the shutter, immortalizing Matty in a picture as small as the palm of your hand.
“That does not work if I'm the one you kissed, I’m afraid.” you dismiss him with a shake of your head, watching the hope leave his face. He nags you further, offering all sorts of services to get you to confess to him.
“I’ll show you sometime.” his eyes light up, ready to make yet another filthy comment. You press a finger to his lips, shushing him like he was a misbehaved child, smirking at his reaction.
“Only if you're good, though.” he nods his head so eagerly, you're afraid he might get whiplash as he shuffles closer to you, nuzzling his face into your shirt (well, his goal was clearly your tits, but you didn't need to know that.)
“I'll be so good for you, you’ll regret ever denying me.” you laugh, vowing to hold him to it.
#they're back it again#everyone cheered#the 1975#matty healy#ross macdonald#george daniel#adam hann#matty the 1975#mpind matty#matty healy fanfiction#matty healy smut#matty healy fic#truman black#matty healy x reader#matty healy x y/n#matty healy fluff#matty healy x you#the 1975 fanfiction#the 1975 fanfic#the 1975 smut#the 1975 fic
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Could I easily fill his shoes? // Matty Healy x Reader
a/n: I’d love some requests!
content warnings: smut, fluff, dirty talk, praise, cheating, just let it happen ;) 18+ MDNI
summary: since the night Matty and you slept together your boyfriend can’t fulfill the job anymore. You need Matty to help you.
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“Hmm?” he purrs, his voice is low and throaty, perfect for this time of night. You catch your lip between your teeth.
“Shit, did I wake you?” The digital clock on your nightstand displays the numbers 02:28.
There is a low chuckle on the other end, laced with a hint of amusement. "You could say that. But I'm wide awake now. What do you want, love?"
Your cheeks flush at the sultry tone in his voice, your mind racing with possibilities. "Uh-“ You think that everything you’re going to say is going to sound ridiculous. “Shit,” you mumble, not knowing how to phrase it.
“Cat got your tongue?” His chuckle rumbles through the line, a sound that sends a wave of heat coursing through your veins.
“Fuck you,” you hiss, your cheeks flushed red from only his voice. God. Matty’s voice does more to you than anything your boyfriend does. “Can you come over?” You ask.
“Is he gone?” You hear shuffling, a blanket being lifted and a fast movement of fabric on skin.
“He left 15 minutes ago, told him I have a migraine,” it’s wrong to lie and it’s even more wrong when he tried to make you feel good for an hour. How could you possibly tell him that your minds on someone else the entire time.
Matty tuts, “that’s not true, is it?”
“You know it isn’t,” because he knows it’s his fault, “come over please,” you whisper the last word and hope he doesn’t hear your desperate plea.
“Already begging? That little twat left you desperate didn’t he?” His words hit her like a cold shower.
“Matty-,” you didn’t even know what to say but it doesn’t matter cause Matty interrupts you.
“Leave your window open,” you leave it open anyway every night, hoping for a surprise visit. You hear a zipper and the flick of of a lighter. “Oh, and hands off.” He hangs up leaving you burning with need.
-
You’re laying over the blanket, letting the cold air hit your nipples which are hardening through the thin shirt you’re wearing. You’re not wearing any panties, the shirt long enough to cover your thighs. You’re squirming, squeezing your thighs together to try to get rid of the ache, unsuccessful.
Turning the little light off next to you, you close your eyes, distracting yourself from the desire rushing through your body and the wetness already dripping down your inner thighs. Your room has a blue glimmer now, the full moon only shining on your bed.
You hear rustling outside your window and a quiet grunt. Your room is on the second floor and to reach or to sneak out of your window, one has to climb a rocky wall.
“There you are,” Matty takes one last drag of his cigarette before tossing it out the window.
His hair is tousled, dark strands falling across his forehead in a disheveled yet undeniably sexy manner. A hint of stubble lined his jaw, adding to his rugged appeal.
The last time Matty came over to finish what your boyfriend couldn’t end was a week ago and that was too long. You can’t wait any more.
You get up from the bed and pull his leather jacket off him, not waiting another second to kiss him. His hands grip your hips, pulling you flush against his body.
But just as quickly as it had begun, he pulls away, leaving you breathless and wanting more. A smirk plays on his lips as he his eyes twinkle with mischief. “So eager,” he bends down to throw his shoes off in slow motion, driving you up a wall.
“Did you touch yourself?” He asks, sitting on the bed, leading you towards him by grabbing your arm. You stand between his legs, his hands going under the shirt to squeeze your ass, groaning when he notices you’re not wearing anything else. “Fucks sake.”
You shake your head at his question, pulling one leg over his lap to sit down on him, the seam at the crotch of his pants rubbing against you. You whimper, still not moving because you don’t want Matty to think you’re not doing what he says.
“C’mon, take what you need from me,” your thighs getting a light squeeze from his hands, encouraging you. “You deserve it.” He groans as you roll your hips instinctively.
“He couldn’t even get you off like this?” It’s a stupid fucking question because your boyfriend is the most vanilla boy you’ve ever met. That’s the problem: he’s a boy.
You shake your head and he grunts when you roll your hips again and whine as the friction presses against your clit. He’s kneading the meat of your ass, every time you’re on him, he pushes you further up. “But you can, love, get off like this?”
“Yeah,” you breathe.
“Not even wearing anything, s’ easier to rub yourself on me,” maybe you should care a little more, but all you can think about is fucking yourself against his bulge, his hands clamped over your hips as he guides your pace.
“That’s right,” he grunts, looking up at you with dark eyes. “Grind on me, make yourself feel good.”
“I know how to make my girl feel good,” my girl. The moan of his name that leaves your mouth is a surprise and he’s totally taking the piss out of praising you like this.
It hits you out of nowhere, your cunt pulsing, fingers digging into the meat of his shoulders as you gasp and writhe. “Yeah, you’re so good love,” he murmurs.
Matty strokes your back, trailing wet kisses down your neck. You look down, seeing the wet patch on his crotch. “Made a mess,” he says.
It turns you on so much more, now that you’ve finally let go you don’t want the feeling to end. “Want you Matty.”
“Yeah?” He grabs your hips and lets you fall onto your back. He pulls his shirt over his head, revealing all his tattoos but your eyes drop to his boxers. His cock is already licking with pre-cum, forming a dark spot. He gets rid of the pair as well, bending forward to look for his wallet.
You stop him by grabbing his neck to kiss him. “Don’t, I’m on the pill.” He grunts, and throws himself on top of you, finally lifting the shirt off of you.
“Did you let him fuck you raw?” He asks, swirling his tongue around your nipple while his thumb rubs slow circles on your clit. The sensation is too much at the beginning, your back arching of the bed.
“Never,” it’s the truth.
“That fucking Tosser is missing out.”
“He ever even ask you what y'like? How y'wanted it?" You shake your head and Matty notices your eyes have squeezed shut like you're trying to not fall apart.
“So fucking wet,” he fucks his fingers in and out of you, spreading them inside you to open you wider for him. You're squirming, unconsciously grinding into his touch to force him deeper. His tattoed hand over your stomach to hold you steady against the mattress.
“Just fuck me please,” you need to feel him again. On you. In you. All the time.
“Want me like this or-“ you nod, your hand reaching between your body’s, lining up his tip with your entrance.
He's grabbing at your ribs and hoisting you on him, sliding into your soaking cunt too fast, burying himself in your walls and hissing a breath in through his teeth. “No one knows how to treat you right, only I do.”
"Matty," you're gasping. You're so fucking tight around him, squeezing him so perfectly.
“He’ll never manage to make you feel as good,” he falls forward over you, pressing his body weight into yours as he begins a blistering pace. He fucks you deep and fast into the mattress, every inch of your body colliding with his. He can feel all of you this way, every piece of skin.
“Jesus-“ he groans next to your ear, “you’re mine.” He grabs your wrists on either side of your head, bites down on the skin of your shoulders, trying to make you feel so good.
“Matty-“ you repeat his name over and over again, and he responds by lazily licking into your mouth, his thrusts increasing in speed and ferocity, jostling you under him as he tries to make you cum again.
You’re squeezing him, arching your back against his body, eyes rolling back and slamming your nails into his back. “Fuck-“ you whine.
“Gonna cum again? Do it, c’mon.” He’s hitting your spot over and over again and he feels you let go around him again.
Your hazy mind can still process his groans and flushed, sweat-slick skin, and the stutter to his hips as he fills you up. “Too good to me, fuck.” He whispers.
He’s pulling out slowly, a whine slipping through your lips at the loss of his warmth.
“Fuck-“ you say, throwing your head back, “thank you.”
“How could I ever deny you?” He asks, pulling his boxers on, then laying next to you, kissing your shoulder lovingly. “You don’t have a migraine do you?”
You giggle and smack his chest, before burying your head in it. “No, stay for a while.”
It’s not what you usually do but he consumes you. The sex is everything, his touch, his lips, his words, those things consume you.
“You deserve better than that wanker,” Matty never says his real name, only insults are slipping out of him and it makes you smile every time.
You shrug against him until his hands cradle your face, “you do.” His lips are on you again, promising you that he’s better for you.
“Are you ever gonna leave him?”
You think about it. You’ve known your boyfriend your whole life, he’s a good boy, he goes to church, your parents know him. He dates to marry. You’re his first love. He’s not yours though.
“I don’t know,” you whisper and you miss the flash in Matty’s eyes. He nods understandingly without understanding why you would stay with him. You call Matty every time after you had sex and didn’t finish because Matty’s the only one who ever could.
“Stay the night.” You cling to him, draping a leg over his thigh, his body burning up.
He does everything to make you happy because he knows he won’t ever.
#the 1975#matty healy#ross macdonald#george daniel#adam hann#the 1975 fic#matty healy smut#matty healy fluff#matty healy imagine#matty healy oneshot#matty healy x you
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soft sound
matty healy x named!ofc (18+)
summary: matty doesn't go to his own house after the show. he goes to hers.
By the time Matty arrives, she’s almost asleep.
In some pre-dream she’d heard the front door open, rooms away. A moment of guilt for not having left the hallway light on. She can see her spare key next to the one for his own big house. Pearl doesn’t open her eyes, willing sleep to come anyway, despite the distraction. She can hear him opening the kitchen cabinets, the sound of liquid into a glass. She can imagine his fingers curved around the wine bottle, the rich redness of it. The ringing sound of him setting it on the counter. She’s watched him pour it so many times, the same easy movement, the way he wets his lips as if he can already taste the acidity.
The patio door sliding open, his footsteps closer now, just in the next room. She can almost smell the cigarette smoke, a memory curling around her nose. She wrinkles it. She can taste it on her breath, the harsh scent of it. She wonders if he has pulled the second chair around, the one she sits beside him on. If he’s used it to put his feet on, if they’re sore from the show, jumping around. There’s a stranger in her house, using her things, drinking her wine, moving furniture like he belongs here. She feels no fear. Something like comfort is settling around her heart, making space in her chest. It’s enough just to know he’s close.
Sleep is edging closer, the longer he stays away from the bedroom. She can feel his presence, the promise of his limbs tangled with hers. It soothes her, a heavy hand stroking over her body. A dreamscape beckons. She doesn’t hear Matty open the patio door again, the slide of it, close it behind himself. Numbed by sleep. Only when a shape leans over, her name is spoken, cold fingers brush hair out of her face, does she awaken again.
“Pearl,” he’s just said, “are you awake?”
“No,” she mumbles, but doesn’t turn away from his hand as it skips over her cheek bone, a thumb over her mouth, feeling her speak.
“Can I sleep in your bed?” He asks.
She wonders what he would do if she said no, rolled over, tugged the covers up around her chin. Pearl keeps her eyes shut when she says, yeah.
He doesn’t bother walking around to the other side, just starts pulling things out of his pockets and finding space to leave them on the side table, keys, his phone, a lighter, three pound. The coins clank together. She opens her eyes when he starts unbuttoning his shirt, fingers skimming over the white material. His head his bowed, dark hair over his face. She reaches out to tug the shirt out of his waistband, feel the fabric between her fingertips. She can feel the tense in his stomach as he breathes in, the release as he breathes out. Matty shrugs out of the shirt, leaves it crumpled on the floor. His hands go to his belt, unzip, and she pulls her hand back to the safety of the bed, begins to shift back to the middle of the mattress, start to make space for him.
His body is chilly as it slides in beside her. Aligns to the shape of her. She squeaks at his cold hands on her ribs, her spine.
“You’re so warm, share it with me,” Matty whines, cold nose nuzzling into her neck. The smell of smoke pervades her clean sheets.
“You’re freezing,” she groans, attempting to peel him off her, but he clings like a child. He’s stronger than her.
“Stop moving,” he tells her, half a laugh, holding her down so she can’t wriggle away. She’s giggling, enjoys the play fight.
They don’t talk about the gig. They don’t talk about the thousands in attendance. They don’t talk about what happened in New York.
Instead, he whispers about how warm she is, curling his hand in her hair. Pearl still feels the pull of sleep, it’s hard to keep her eyes open. She wants to ask him what the time is, but is afraid to know. His leg is in between hers. She wants to take her pyjamas off so she can feel his skin. He’s kissing her head now, his mouth on her hair, then her forehead, a gentle graze of his lips over her eyebrow, the very tip of her nose.
“Darling girl,” he says, the rasp of his voice. She can hear how worn out it is. A world tour will do that.
“Here I am,” she murmurs, tilts her head back so he can access her whole face, kiss her cheek, her jaw, her chin.
“Here you are,” Matty echoes, something reverent. He breathes against her mouth. Her hand flattens against his chest. She can imagine he curling lines of ink under her clean palm.
“Do you have work in the morning?” He asks.
“Is it a weekday?”
“Don’t be mean,” he whines, nips at her nose, “I’m just a silly pop star, remember?”
“Mmm,” she hums, her fingers skating up to his collarbone, the line of his throat. He keeps looking at her mouth.
“Yes, I have work,” Pearl says, as he runs the tip of his finger over her eyelashes. His thigh is pressing up into the crux of her body. Just a suggestion.
“I’ll make the coffee,” he promises.
“I only have oat milk.”
“I’ll survive.”
He’s kissing the lobe of her ear, the pulse in her neck. Her lips feel cold from the lack of attention. When he speaks she can feel it vibrating on her skin, like he’s pressing the words into her. A scarring.
His big hand is on her stomach, fingertips slipping into the waist of her pyjamas. Her body sparks.
“Is it very late?” She asks, finally getting the nerve. She doesn’t know what the cut off time is. If it’s after two would she stop this? After three? Is there a line?
“Do you really want to know?” Matty says, but withdraws his hand, leaves it on her hip.
“Maybe not.”
“I’ll make the coffee really strong,” he says.
“Is it that bad?”
He laughs, a quiet, secret one that makes her smile, “It’s not good.”
Maybe it’s close to dawn. Make the light will peek through the curtains soon. Matty is smiling at her, eyes glinting, and she’s smiling at him. She does’t care what the time is. Pearl takes his hand from her hip, lays it over her breast. Matty breathes in, his fingers already scrabbling with the buttons of her pyjama shirt so he can get inside it, under it, his palm a warm pressure over her nipple. His thigh presses up between her legs.
“Can you help me get undressed,” she whispers, shifting onto her back. Matty is so quick to follow her he almost falls.
“Yes, of course,” he tells her, up onto his knees, throwing off the covers. The cold is sudden, her body revealed to the night air. Made worse by Matty helping her out of her top, her nipples hardening. He takes his time with her pants, following the retreating material with his mouth, kissing down her thighs, under her knees, the muscle of her calves. His eyes drag over her when she’s naked, and she wriggles under them.
“I’m cold,” she tells him.
“Let me look for a second,” Matty says.
“It’s too dark to even see anything.”
“I can see,” he says, his voice heavy. Pearl feels a bit like a painting, an art piece. Laid still underneath him for his viewing pleasure.
“You want me to warm you up?” He asks, shifting her so he can get between her legs, still in his underwear, black material clinging to the hard line of him. It makes her dizzy that she can get him like that just from being naked. Just from him looking at her.
“Yeah,” she says, her hands folded over her chest. He picks them up, brings them to his mouth, encased in his. He breathes hot air into the opening of her fingers, like he’s coaxing a fire. Pearl watches, enraptured.
When he lifts his head from their hands, he’s smiling, a curl fallen out from where it was safely tucked behind his ear to lie against the line of his cheek.
“Thank you,” she says.
“All warmed up?”
She shakes her head, loose hair rustling on the pillow. Matty frowns, over dramatic.
“No? Where else are you cold?”
She blushes, but twitches her hips. Matty’s face lights up.
“Oh, yeah?”
“Mmmhmm.”
“Let me see what I can do,” he assures her, rakes a hand through his hair. Pearl has a sudden memory of the first time they did this. A shitty apartment. The horrible way it snows in Manchester. The smell of weed.
His mouth is hot and wet on her, lavishes his attention. She squirms and pants, tugging on his hair. He’s easily guided. He knows what she’s going to ask for her before she gets the chance to say it. Harder. Lower. Slower. His big hands span her thighs, holding her open and steady for him. Her feet flex. She groans as he gets a finger inside her, two, crooks them towards himself. He shifts, pressure increasing, and she cries out. Matty is lying prone on the bed, and she can see how he’s grinding into the mattress when she lifts her head up
“Do you wish that was me?” She asks, breathless. Matty looks up at her, fingers still pushing in and out. His mouth is shiny. He looks dazed.
“So badly,” he says, nodding for too long. He seems overwhelmed by the experience, turns to sink his teeth into her thigh.
“It can be,” she tells me, and feels him groan into her. He turns his head, mouth dragging over where she’s wet and pink. Licks into her, over and over. Her orgasm is small but enough, her knees tight around Matty’s head, holding him there. He doesn’t stop until she yanks his head away, oversensitive, lifting his head up like a rag doll, black hair clumped around her fingers. He’s grinning.
“Again,” he says, voice raw. She laughs at him, her body warm and relaxed.
“Don’t be greedy.”
He’s a pleasant weight as he crawls up her body, comes up to lie over her, supported on one elbow. She helps him out of his underwear, drags fingers over his hips, his ribs, the muscle of his shoulders.
“I love you so much,” he tells her, earnest and boyish. Pearl smiles, tucks his hair behind his years. Silver threads.
“I know you do.”
He’s hot and thick against the opening of her. Matty seems to be satisfied with her answer, or chooses not to press it, reaches between them to help himself into her, a steady push that makes her eyes roll back.
“Fuck,” she says, wraps her arms around him to bring him low and close to her, his face in her neck as he finds a familiar rhythm. It makes her delirious. He’s saying nonsense against her jugular, shifting to bend one of her legs back against to her body, his hand under her knee, opening her up more for him.
“Is that good?” He pants, like he doesn’t know the answer every time is yes, yes, yes. Pearl reaches for his face, kissing him messily. He tastes like her, his tongue eager.
“Matty,” she gasps, when he gets a good angle, sat back on his heels, her legs in his hands as he fucks into her, his necklace sticking against the planes of his chest.
“I know,” he says, “I know, I know. You feel so good.”
She wants to thrash and scream, settles for her a breathless sob and grabbing at his shoulders. He curls over her, forehead to forehead. She can taste his breath, hot air passed between them, lung to lung.
“I’m really close,” Pearl says, reaching between them to rub over where they meet. Matty knocks her hand away, does it himself, knows her body too easily. She can see how he’s working to keep the rhythm for her and not chase his own orgasm, his jaw loose and eyes glazed.
“Oh my god,” she cries, everything in her tightening.
“Do it, do it,” Matty is saying, “Let me see.”
She can hear him from very far away as she arches up into his embrace, held down by the weight of him, holding her safe and close as he fucks her through it. This orgasm is whole and overwhelming. Matty inside her and over her and around her.
She lies limp and lax when it’s over, one arm draped over him, gazing up at him in worship. Matty looks like he wants to eat her whole.
“Is it okay if I - ,” He starts, but she’s already urging him on.
“Yes, yes, come in me. I want it.”
“Oh fuck,” he says, hastening, his movements urgent and rough, “Oh, fuck. You want it, you want it.”
“I want it so bad,” she tells him, wrapping her legs around him, holding his face in her hands. He looks young, his face blurring into every single time she’s had him like this, begging for her. Matty screws his eyes shut, mouth hanging open, his head heavy in her hands as he comes, fucking messily into her.
Pearl feels sleep close at hand, even with Matty a boneless weight on her, still dripping out between her legs.
“Are you okay?” She whispers, her lips against his temple. The sweat is making them stick together.
“Yeah,” he says against her throat, “Just resting. Are you?”
“Sleepy,” she says, fingers careful at the base of his spine. He gets ticklish there.
He seems to draw his energy together, willing his muscles to work, before he gets up, fumbles his way to the bathroom. He returns with a damp face cloth and her full water bottle.
“How romantic,” Pearl teases him, even as he drops the cloth unceremoniously on her belly and takes a long swallow from her bottle before he passes it to her. He waits for her to clean herself before he takes the cloth, throws it back towards the bathroom where Pearl hears it land on the tiled floor.
This time, when Matty gets in bed beside her, he’s warm, fitting his body around hers. The duvet is almost too hot now. Her breathing is still unsteady.
“Don’t let me snooze the alarm,” Pearl tells him, her spine curved to his chest. Matty presses his mouth to her bare shoulder, a lazy kiss.
“I won’t.”
“Remember you’re making the coffee.”
“I remember.”
Sleep is an old friend, willing her towards it. Her body feels overworked and exhausted. Matty is draped over her like a favourite blanket.
#matty healy x reader#matty healy x you#matty healy x oc#matty healy imagine#matty healy smut#matty healy#the 1975#matty healy fanfiction#*
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Touch Tank
He’s so pretty when he goes down on me… <3
THE MAKEUP FIC LADIES AND GENTLEMEN AND EVERYONE IN BETWEEN
Fluff into smut because I am a sappy bitch. It’s actually quite soft despite being dirty.
Fem! Reader
Contains: Sub! Matty, him being a sweetie pie and guiding her into it, facesitting/riding, makeup ruining, praise kink (good boy, pretty boy, etc.), Matty cumming in his pants, hair pulling, Matty Healy worshiping that cunt idk what else to tell you
WC: ~4,600
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Matty asks you to do his makeup for him… and then ruin it by sitting on his face
—---------------------------------------------------
You glance at Matty through the reflection in the mirror, your heart swelling in your chest at the adoring look plastered on his face. He looks so incredibly gentle, his eyes soft and practically sparkling as he watches you apply concealer onto your skin. Only a few minutes ago, he’d plopped himself down on the lidded toilet near you and insisted that you show him how you do your makeup while you get ready for your girl’s night out. His longing gazes have proven to be very distracting as your working hands almost slow to a stop.
“Just pretend I’m not here! What comes next?” he urges, leaning his chin against his hand casually.
“Alright, alright! Next is the powder,” you explain, starting to refocus as you run the brush through the pan of skin-toned pigment.
Matty’s eyes can’t seem to stay focused on one thing, flicking between the product you’re using (taking note of the brand you use), your pretty face, and the way your steady fingers curl around the makeup brush. He murmurs the word “powder” to himself like he’s trying to commit the steps you take in your routine to his memory. Boyfriend training, if you will.
“Right… so, do you really need the primer, the concealer, and the other thing? Why haven’t they just combined them all? It’s an awful lot of work for you makeup users,” he muses, talking as if he knows what any of them are really for.
“I have no clue, babe. You should really get on that,” you chuckle, stealing another glance at him through the mirror.
“Yeah, I should, shouldn’t I? What’s that one for, then?” he asks, reaching out and pointing at the powder in your hands.
“This? It’s to set everything in place that we just put on,” you explain, finding it quite sweet that he’s so curious about this little piece of your life, as mundane as it might be.
Matty hums and nods thoughtfully, seeming satisfied with knowing more about makeup than he did before. Not just any makeup, but his girl’s makeup that she takes so much time to get right. There’s something very domestic about this moment, everything feels a little softer when it’s just you two like this. Even the moonlight seems to seep through the window gentler. Matty’s life is irregular, there’s no denying that. It’s what makes these moments of calm feel so sacred, so untouchable.
You continue carrying out your routine, going a little slower than usual to prolong it all, your brush strokes lingering a little longer than necessary as you brush a tastefully shimmery shade on your eyelids. Your boyfriend is unusually quiet as he admires you with those sleepy eyes. It’s not often that he isn’t either speaking or waiting for someone to finish talking so he can get a word in. The silence feels comfortable for both of you, it settles over the bathroom like a blanket.
“Ah, wait, I know that one,” he interrupts, suddenly sitting up straighter as you take out your next product, snapping his fingers and pointing at it, “that’s mascara.”
Matty looks absolutely triumphant, crossing his arms over his chest with a slyness plastered on his face. You let out a breathy little chuckle, only managing half of an eye roll before a warm smile tugs at your lips.
Once you’ve finished, Matty clears his throat to get your attention, looking as though he’s mulling over asking you something.
“Hey, I know you said you liked those pictures you saw of my stage makeup. I haven’t really done it in a while… y’know, if you wanted to do some on me… before you go to your party,” he offers softly, trailing off as he looks up into your eyes.
“Wait, are you serious!?” you exclaim, your eyes lighting up with a grin on your face that could rival a kid’s smile on Christmas morning.
“Yeah, sure,” he shrugs, chuckling as you already scramble to grab all your supplies, sliding them towards the closer end of the counter, “I’m going to trust you here, but you’ve got the perfect chance to fuck me up good, making me look like a proper circus clown.”
“I would never!” you gasp, feigning offense at his comment with a dramatic hand over your heart, “why on earth would I do that when I have the opportunity to make you the prettiest of princesses?”
“The what? Nah, never mind that, you’ve just lost the privilege.”
“No, no, no I’m sorry, I’ll behave!”
Matty eyes you suspiciously, raising an eyebrow at you like he’s assessing whether or not you’ll be calling him “baby girl” or something next. Out of the goodness of his heart (and because he does really does want you to do this), he nods at you, crossing his arms over his chest. You just smile giddily, leaning down to kiss his forehead while he mumbles “Yeah, yeah, c’mon do me up”.
You’ve decided to go easy on him and not do a full face, just his eyes and lips. With that, you crack open your makeup pallet reserved only for fun occasions, it’s filled with shimmery, bright colors that immediately attract Matty’s distractable eyes. You hold it up to him for him to get a better look, his brows furrowing as he no doubt contemplates what he thinks would look the coolest.
“What are you thinking?” you ask, still very excited that he’d not only agreed to let you do this but was the one to suggest it.
“Maybe this blueish one? I dunno, is that what any basic straight guy would pick?”
“You’re overthinking it. I think it would look really nice on you.”
You dip your eyeshadow brush in the pan, instructing him to close his eyes for you and stay still the best he can (not the easiest of feats for one Mr. Healy). He does, his gaze softening before he lets his eyes flutter shut. With your free hand, you reach out and gently tilt his face to be angled properly. You feel a little warmth blossom in your chest as you realize how intimate this feels, especially with how serene he looks as he closes his eyes. Even though it feels silly because it’s just doing his makeup, your heart still thrums a little faster at the little display of trust.
When you touch the brush to his eyelid, he lets out a short, very Matty-sounding giggle as he tells you that it feels “quite nice”. You chuckle along with him, switching to the other eyelid once you’re sure the other one is evenly applied. Your touch is delicate as you hold the side of Matty’s face, your eyes squinting with concentration as you work. He’s warm under your fingertips. You notice how soothed he seems by you handling him like this, almost hypnotized by the brush strokes. He looks so soft. Unjaded. Untouched.
While his eyes are closed, you reach for your eyeliner, warning him before you touch the point of it to his lash line. Still, he flinches slightly when the liner touches his eyelid, his nose scrunching up a bit as you do your best to trace a steady line, despite the way his eyelids flutter.
“You’re moving, Matty.”
“M’not!” he insists (he is).
With a bit of fixing, you’d managed to draw out two almost even wings. At your permission, his eyes blink open again and the sight almost steals your breath away. The blue is bringing out the honey tones of his irises, his sleepy eyes defined by the complimentary liner. He’s beautiful.
“Do I look hot?” he asks, blinking faux seductively.
“Very hot,” you grin, inspecting your work as you keep a tender hold on his chin.
It’s not even a joke, he does look hot. You’ve always not so secretly adored his more feminine side, getting absolutely giddy whenever he wore a skirt around the flat or painted his nails. You rub your thumb over his cheek affectionately before reaching back over to the counter for your mascara wand, holding it up to him before you unscrew the cap. It’s the only one he’d recognized from earlier, so of course you’re going to tease him a little.
“Time for your favorite,” you joke, moving to position yourself in front of him.
Matty glances at the wand for a second before nodding slowly, smiling with his tongue between his teeth boyishly.
“Mascara,” he recalls smugly.
It quickly becomes his least favorite when he painstakingly can only blink when you tell him to, this wand object being far too close to his eyeballs for his liking. He groans dramatically between the blink breaks that you give him, pulling all sorts of odd, exaggerated faces.
“That was god awful, hated that,” he broods, shaking his head at you.
You make up for it with an apologetic kiss to his cheek, then wipe away the pink trace of your lipstick on his skin. You reassure him that you’re almost done, now retrieving the same shade of lipstick that you’d done on yourself. You slowly ease his lips apart with the hand on his jaw, Matty being totally pliant while he gazes at you quietly. You start to apply the color to his lips, swallowing thickly as you try not to get distracted by his mouth. Despite your best efforts, your face feels a little hot as quiet tension blooms. His pupils have practically doubled in size at this point from how enamored he is with you in this moment. The tension only grows stronger when you finish, standing behind him as you lead him to the mirror.
“Oh, shit. I look… I look really good,” Matty gawks, his lips parting as he eyes himself in the mirror.
“You do. I’d go as far as to say that you look fucking stunning,” you whisper near the shell of his ear, feeling the hairs rise on the back of his neck.
The two of you stay like that for a bit longer, both admiring him in the reflection of the mirror, your hands settled on his shoulders and your lips brushing against his ear. With a smile, you place a tender kiss on his neck before leaving him to gaze at himself some more while you finish getting ready in the bedroom.
It’s not long before Matty is trailing after you, finding you slipping your “style over comfort” heels on as he frowns at you from the doorway. The fact that you’re not still fawning over him while he looks this good is pure absurdity in his mind.
“You’re really just gonna leave me here while I’m all dolled up for you? Shame,” he pouts, tilting his head at you as he juts out his bottom lip. Such a drama queen.
Matty comes closer and sinks to his knees in front of you at the foot of the bed, his calloused fingertips running up the expanse of your smooth legs. He looks up at you with lidded eyes as he reaches for the ankle straps of your shoes that you’d just put on, leaning his cheek against your knee as he starts to unclasp one of them with nimble fingers. You don’t stop him. He knows for a fact that he’s putting you in a position where you couldn’t possibly say no to him, not when he’s looking at you like that, his naturally gorgeous features only further accentuated by the makeup you’d done. Maybe being fashionably late isn’t such a big deal… Sarah hosts girl's nights all the time. Besides, Matty seems to have other plans for convincing you that the party is hardly a priority. You swear if you squint, you can see a plan racing to come together in his head as you gaze down at him, drinking him in while he’s on his knees.
“We don’t really have the time…” you murmur, reaching with one hand to card your fingers through his hair, holding it away from his eyes while he undoes your shoes.
Sex with Matty is never a casual affair. He takes his sweet time with you, taking you apart with his mouth and his fingers before he even thinks of being inside of you. He doesn’t just please, he satisfies. Matty’s devoted appetite cannot be given a time constraint.
Once he’s finished sliding both of your shoes off, carefully setting them to the side, he clambers up onto the bed and lays down behind you. His head is tilted in your direction as he reaches his hands out to you in a grabbing motion, urging you to come closer.
“You could sit on my face,” he suggests, not a trace of hesitation in his blunt tone.
“What?” you gape, your eyebrows knitting together.
“You heard me,” he quips, swallowing thickly before speaking again, “Stay. Use me.”
You shake your head in disbelief, letting out a chuckle at his wanton request. Forcing yourself to swiftly regain your composure, you turn and slink towards him, sitting on your knees at his side. It would probably be faster than sex… right?
“Where is this even coming from? Is that something you think about a lot, babe?” you smile teasingly, reaching over to cup his face, scratching your nails under his jaw.
Matty’s gaze shifts to the side and he shrugs, a coyness playing on his face as his cheeks become rosier. No one gets to see him like this but you, this is your Matty.
You sigh, your eyes flickering down to his painted lips that curl up with a mischievous quirk.
“You’d hardly be able to breathe, Matty- no, stop, don’t look at me like that, I’m serious! These things don’t always work out like they do in your pornos,” you laugh, but you are genuinely concerned about hurting him.
“The fuck do I care? If I can breathe, I’m not doin’ it right,” he huffs petulantly, his greedy hands reaching for your hips to guide you into straddling him, “Literally crush me, I can take it, I’m a big boy.”
You shoot him a look and he just offers a wide, toothy grin, reaching behind you to grab handfuls of your ass through your dress. The fabric rides up your thighs higher with every little movement, feeling a lot shorter when it’s barely covering your panties.
“I dunno about a big one, but you definitely are a boy sometimes, Healy,” you tease, leaning over him with your hands splayed on his chest for support.
“You love it. Are you gonna sit that sexy ass down on me or what?” he smirks, only proving your point further as he waggles his eyebrows at you.
You can tell he’s not going to let this go, not till your thighs are locked around his head. Just as you’re about to open your mouth again, he’s easing the fabric of your dress further up your legs, letting out a satisfied hum as it bunches around your waist. He avidly smooths his hands over the newly exposed skin, need seeping through his touch. Matty’s voice is breathier when he speaks again, his fingertips digging into your hips.
“Please, darlin’, want you to ruin the pretty makeup you did for me so nicely,” he whispers.
Instantly, heat surges under your skin, your breath catching in your throat at the way he spins his sugary words. That’s something you hadn’t considered. The image that flashes through your mind: Matty between your legs with his makeup smudged down his flushed cheeks. It makes a pang of want rip through you. Suddenly, it looks like your girlfriends will be taking the first round of shots without you.
“... okay,” you relent, chewing at your bottom lip.
“Yeesss, that’s what I thought,” he celebrates, drumming his fingertips against your hips excitedly, “C’mere.”
The actual process of sitting down on his face seems fairly daunting to you, your limbs feel more awkward than usual, and heat is prickling at your cheeks at the idea of actually straddling his head. It’s an awfully compromising pose to be in. Matty notices how stonewalled you seem, his thumbs rubbing encouraging circles into the bones of your hips.
“It’s okay, I’m serious, I want you to. Here, let me just…” he trails off, urging you to lift your hips by easing them upwards, letting you do most of the movement.
“So gentle,” you tease, noticing how light his touch is, like you’re his most delicate possession.
“I am when I want to be.”
Matty guides you till you’re kneeling above his head, peering down at his warm, sparkly eyes. He looks even prettier from this angle, his sea of dark curls is spread around his head like a halo. The little smile plastered on his face says “See? Not so bad.”. And it’s not, not when he’s holding both of your hands, his thumbs running over your knuckles carefully. He gives one of your hands a squeeze before letting go, placing two tender fingers at the waistband of your panties. He slides them down the front of the lacy fabric till they meet the dampness that’s gathered between your thighs, only setting your skin more ablaze. Matty hums approvingly, the noise rumbling low in his chest as he hooks his fingers under the material, sliding them to the side.
“Oh, fuck me. Perfect fucking cunt,” he groans, spreading your honeyed folds and marveling at the way your arousal gathers on his digits.
You laugh lightly at how he acts as if he’s seeing you like this for the first time and he just smiles, enamored. Matty catches his lower lip between his teeth as he runs his hands over to your thighs, holding them as he nods to signal that he’s ready for you.
“Yeah?” you breathe, feeling your heart hammer against your ribs.
“Yeah.”
Matty blinks up at you eagerly, vying for your complete attention with every flutter of his mascara-coated lashes. His eyes are wide and twinkly, only shining brighter when you start to slowly lower your hips down. His needy gaze is wildly flicking back and forth between your face and your core, slicked and glistening with your arousal. There’s a slight burn simmering in your legs at just how teasingly slowly you’re sinking downward, much to Matty’s vexation. He tugs slightly at the soft skin of your thighs, a little whine escaping the back of his throat as he anticipates the lack of oxygen to come. Matty presses his lips to any skin he can reach on your thighs, hurriedly peppering pink lipstick marks till you’re totally littered with them. He smushes his cheek to your inner thigh, his muss of dark curls tickling at your skin as he pleads with you. He looks so fucked out and you haven’t even started.
“Please, please- please, baby,” he murmurs, his tongue darting out to run over his pink, plush lips between kisses to your skin.
You smile down at him warmly, feeling your heart almost burst at just how badly he’s craving this, how long he’s likely fantasized about you using him for your pleasure this way. He’s behaving oh-so politely for a man so normally fond of brashness.
“I-I need it… please, just fucking use me,” Matty whimpers, his voice breaking slightly, his tone shooting straight to your cunt.
Finally, you indulge him, inching down the rest of the way until you’re perched on his face, your knees on either side of his head. You gasp as he doesn’t waste a single moment before his tongue is working against you with practiced swirls and figures. He’s giving you no time to even think twice about being embarrassed by the lewdness of your positioning. Your hands go flying to support yourself against the headboard, feeling like your breath has been ripped straight from your lungs as Matty laps at your sopping cunt. His shimmery, blue eyelids flutter shut as he groans against you, his hands snaking up the backs of your thighs to your ass, holding you down against his mouth firmly as he devours you. Your whole body shudders as he drags his tongue to your clit, flicking the tip of it against the bud. Liquid, carnal need is filling you right to your bones.
“Fuck! That’s my fucking boy, so good for me,” you sigh out, tossing your head back as you start to reflexively grind down on his tongue “You enjoying yourself, hun?”
Matty lets out syrupy moans that vibrates against your core, only adding to the dizzying, deep-seated pleasure pulsating and reverberating inside you as he nods his head. His lashes flutter, his eyes rolling back until only the whites are visible as you start to find your rhythm, rocking your hips into his mouth to chase the climax just beyond your fingertips. You let out a quivering moan as he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking hard to tighten the coiling heat in your belly, he knows all the little tricks to make your head spin. He hasn’t spent all this time learning your body for nothing, sometimes you think he might know it better than you do, effortlessly puppeteering you into the throws of pleasure.
Matty’s cock throbs and twitches in his trousers as the plushness of your thighs start to constrict around his head, smiling into your cunt as he truly does enjoy himself, evident in the way his hips are squirming against the mattress. The blissed-out look on your face only fuels his determination that much more, you’ve lit that familiar, insatiable fire in him. You glance over your shoulder and catch the way his thighs flex as his hips jolt upward into nothing, his dick aching and straining against his pants. You always knew Matty got off on you feeling good, but watching him pathetically hump the air while he eats you out is really getting to your head, you feel a little dizzy with a rush of power. Any sense of worry about putting more of your weight onto him is totally dissolved, overshadowed by the sensations rendering your mind fuzzy. You’re weightless.
“Tastes so sweet, so fucking good,” he rambles, his voice muffled and wavering, barely audible from under you.
The urge to own, to ruin flares up in you like a struck match. One of your hands strays from the headboard, reaching to grasp a handful of his meticulously cared-for curls (he pokes fun at the amount of makeup you have, yet his curl-care product collection is extensive). Matty whines, his eyebrows sloping, eyes squeezing shut as he feels your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling on it firmly at the root just the way he likes it. He tugs your hips down onto his face harder, like he’s trying to drown inbetween your legs.
“Oh my god… good boy, Matty,” you croon, panting as the tension compounds with every swipe of his tongue.
Matty’s hips buck particularly harshly at your praise. He’s quivering at the slight friction from the tight fabric of his pants, but he won’t allow himself to indulge in more than that, he’s far too preoccupied with satisfying you. You smile hazily at how instantly he reacts to the pet name, curious to know how far you can take this while he’s so pussy drunk.
“So fucking pretty for me like this,” you compliment breathlessly, watching as the half of his face that’s visible to you contorts with neediness.
He looks like he could burst like a horny balloon, poor thing. The bed is creaking from the way his hips writhe, rose tattoo lifting up to meet the air. He’s eating you out urgently, his brows drawn together tightly as his tongue fucks in and out of you deeper than you’ve ever felt, the tip of his nose nudging at your swollen clit. You tug at his dark tresses again as the feeling makes your whole body tense, your back arching as it all builds to a fizzling high. Matty doesn’t seem to mind one bit as you start to grind more frantically, your head lolling back with a wail.
“Close, I’m close,” you pant, your chest heaving with shuddering breaths.
“Please, please, oh, god, cum on my face,” Matty whimpers as he pauses for just a moment, turning his face to breathe before delving back in, fluttering the tip of his tongue rapidly against your clit.
His begging is what ultimately makes your orgasm crash over you, the tension snapping as you ride the white-hot waves of your orgasm out on his mouth, euphoria rushing through your veins, throbbing at your core. You can’t fully understand him, but what you can make out are garbled moans of your name and babbles of “I love you” as he watches you arch backward, his tongue unrelenting. You let out a cry as the stimulation gets to be too much, your thighs trembling as the sensations crowd you. You have to physically get up off of his face before he stops, gasping for his breath as you settle back down on his hips.
It’s only now that you get to truly see him and god, he’s a beautiful fucking wreck. Your vision is slightly hazy as you peer down at him, the afterglow pleasantly clouding your head as you simply admire him. His eyeliner and mascara have slightly run down his cheeks from the heat, blue eyeshadow smudged and shimmering under his eyes. What’s left of his lipstick is spread around his grinning mouth, glistening with your arousal. Unruly, stray curls stick to his forehead with sweat that glows in an angelic sheen over him. You’ve ruined him, and he couldn’t be happier.
“Fuck, that was incredible,” you breathe, draping yourself over him to kiss his needy mouth.
Matty lets out a dazed giggle against your lips, humming contently as you taste yourself lingering on him. When you shift forward, you feel a distinct lack of the hard-on that was against his thigh when you started. Curiously, you pull away from the kiss to find that the protrusion in his trousers is missing, and in its absence, a sizeable wet spot soaked into the fabric. Pride simmers deep inside you as it quickly clicks into place.
“Matty… did you cum?” you ask, as if it’s not obvious.
He squirms, biting the inside of his cheek as he glances off to the side like the wall has suddenly become extremely interesting. Your smile is almost wolfish as you lean over him, grasping his jaw with one hand to turn his face towards you. His eyes rimmed with runny makeup get wider.
“I-I…” he stammers, his voice cracking and trailing off into a little gasp.
“Felt so good that you came without me even touching you?”
Matty nods slowly, tilting his chin down to drag his pink-bitten lips against your hand, his breath warm against your skin.
“Say thank you,” you whisper, purposefully pressing your thigh (still covered in his lipstick marks) against his softening cock, just to get another pretty, breathy sound out of him as his eyes roll back.
“F-fuck. Thank you. Thank you, baby,” he mumbles, staring up at you like you’re some kind of deity while he kisses the palm of your hand, “don’t go yet, please.”
“I’m not going anywhere, sweet boy.”
You capture his lips again and he smiles into the kiss, his hands tentatively knotting into your hair and ruffling it. He rolls the two of you over to embrace as you exchange murmurs of sweet nothings. You’re frankly disgustingly in love, and neither of you would have it any other way.
————————————————————————
This one has been in the works for a whiiiile
I’m dedicating this to Ace @ughgoaway , the biggest makeup fic supporter and one of my dear friends <3
#matty healy smut#matty healy x reader#matty healy x you#the 1975 smut#the 1975 x reader#matty healy fic#matty healy fanfiction#I REALLY HOPE THIS WAS GOOD OH GODDD
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birthday wish - matty x reader
part 1 of matty's birthday weekend
a/n: this is scheduled. by the time this goes up, i will (hopefully🤞🏼) be on a beach somewhere, day drunk 😌
cw: very vague and brief descriptions of a panic attack, alcohol and drinking, mayhem is still with matty here because that's how it should be. also...a smidge of angst, idiots friends to lovers
wc: 3.1k
“matty you fucking dick!”
her screech echoes throughout the lower floor of his house and matty bursts out laughing. george stirs on the nearby sofa, huffs something unintelligible and goes back to sleep.
it’s 9 in the morning the day after they’ve had a late night out, no one should be awake at such an ungodly hour… least of all him. but matty has a mission to accomplish, the fucking childish prank he’s been planning for weeks to see through.
and this scream—her calling him a “fucking dick”—is the precise reaction he’s been hoping for.
seconds later she stomps out of his room and matty damn near pisses himself at the sight of her—dripping in water like a wet, angry cat, her t-shirt clinging to her body in all the damp spots and hair as green as an oompa-loompa's. even like this she’s a vision.
“what the fuck did you do?!” she yells again, absolutely fuming.
between peals of laughter, he somehow manages three words. “happy april fool’s.”
“oh don’t you fucking dare. watch your back healy, i swear to god…”
and then all the yelling wakes george up who takes one look at her and flinches back. he actually flinches back letting out a string of curses in the process until his butt hits the floor.
matty doubles over, clutching his sides, and wolf-whistles at her just to piss her off a little more.
“hair dye in a shampoo bottle, how clever,” she huffs, crossing her arms in front of her until the damp t-shirt sticks to her boobs and the wind gets knocked out of matty’s chest.
suddenly, nothing is funny—not the green-tinged puddle of water near her feet, not the way her nostrils flare in anger.
matty’s breath hitches in his throat, and perhaps for the first time he looks at her properly. the damp t-shirt ends halfway down her thighs, bunched up on one side so he can almost see the little group of freckles on the apex of her thigh. the anger makes her eyebrows furrow, makes a small crease appear right between them and matty wishes so desperately he could smooth it with his thumb. his hands tremble at his sides and he tightens them into a fist.
finally, after what feels like an eternity, george bursts out laughing.
matty startles—he’d honestly forgotten george was even there, still waking up from sleep and now that he is fully awake, george bursts into a fit of obnoxious cackles.
“what the fuck happened to you,” he teases to which she just lifts one finger and points it straight at matty.
matty, despite everything, blushes to the roots of his hair. now that he’s started thinking all these thoughts about her he can’t fucking stop—can’t stop when she bunches the towel in her hands and throws it at him so quick that it makes the t-shirt ride up a bit more. can’t stop when she places her hands on her hips so that the contours of her chest stand out under the damp t-shirt.
he has half a thought to tackle george so he won’t be able to look at her anymore but matty suppresses the urge. barely.
“i’ll get you back, healy,” she threatens and storms back to his room.
sure matty was the one who offered to let her have a shower in his bathroom—one, so she could stay over with the rest of their friends for the night, and two, so he could execute the prank. but now he can’t stop imagining it—her under the shower (does she sing?) using his shampoo, his body wash.
does she smell like him now? he’d die if he got close enough to find out.
“alright, mate?” george jerks him out of his thoughts. matty turns around to see his friend stretching sleepily, but george’s eyes are still very much trained on matty. his lips are very much pressed into a thin line.
“you both are insufferable, don’t get why you won’t just tell her,” he mumbles on the way to the kitchen pulling out a mug for himself.
“don’t know what you’re talking about,” matty shrugs, perhaps a bit too quick and gets another mug out. he puts the kettle on boil, gets the coffee and sugar out.
the whole time george stays quiet but matty can feel his burning stare on the back of his head.
only when the coffees are done and george takes the first sip does he speak.
“sure you don’t,” he mutters in a dry tone and takes his phone out (definitely to text charli and gossip about matty’s love life. or the lack thereof.)
in his head he guesses the texts that are being exchanged between them.
he’s chickened out again.
really? i fucking knew it, he’s never gonna get to it.
right? she might as well date someone else.
i should set her up with a friend…
and then shakes his head like that would get rid of the frankly ridiculous thoughts. his friends would never do that to him. they've already meddled and invested too much in his love life by now to give up so easily. besides, he’ll get to it. someday. eventually.
he’ll get to it when his insides don’t feel like jelly around her.
he’ll get to it when he feels a bit more brave.
matty’s birthday wish has stayed consistent for the last two years. he wishes he could make a move. he wishes she were single—well, one of those things is true now. he’s no longer pathetic enough to yearn for a girl who’s already with someone else.
he’ll never admit it to anyone but he did feel a bit of joy when she broke up with her boyfriend earlier that year—okay maybe a lot of joy when he saw how quickly she moved on.
“we’d been growing distant for some time anyway,” she’d confessed when he checked up on her after the break up. “it was inevitable.”
and now that matty’s birthday gets closer and closer, he thinks of all ways to amend that wish.
please fucking please give me the courage to just kiss her.
he doesn’t know who he’s making the wish to. god?? he highly doubts it. the universe?? he scarcely believes in all that new age spirituality crap. the fucking candle company and the cake maker then.
oh great vanilla bean who sacrificed itself for my cake… give me the courage to finally kiss her.
he's got like a week still… if he wished every single day starting today, maybe it will come true. cake and candles or not. he's a grown fucking man, he can make a wish before blowing on a fag.
sometime around 5 pm he wakes up to an empty apartment, lingering taste of the sweet vanilla cake that she’d baked for him last year still so fresh on his tongue.
there’s something else too… there’s the Moment that he’s not quite sure counts as a Moment even though he remembers it vividly—her fingers brushing against his lips while she was wiping away a bit of the frosting, nails grazing against his lips. just a touch too long. all of it—the intense stare, the looking away right after, the refusal to look him in the eye for the rest of the night—all of it feels like a Moment. but the rational part of his brain steers him away from that thought.
she had a boyfriend at the time. she wouldn’t pine after someone else. least of all him.
a somewhat humiliating memory resurfaces too—his own lyrics coming to bite him back in the ass—the speaker blaring “she’s got a boyfriend anyway” over and over again while he tries not to punch the dj.
matty stretches and gets out of bed.
the utter silence feels nice for a change—nicer when half the house is bathed in golden light and he can just stroll through the house in search of some weed and crisps and pop. maybe call his brother and demand that mario kart rematch that’s so so long overdue.
maybe he should let mayhem out into the backyard first.
mayhem…
matty freezes in his tracks and slowly turns around, almost like he’s in a horror movie.
he has not heard the dog bark once! usually mayhem is up and running at him the moment he senses him within a ten feet radius. today however, there’s no patter of paws on the floor.
matty runs to check the little outdoor area where mayhem usually sits. even before he opens the door though, matty knows what he will find—an empty dog bed, possibly an empty food bowl.
he lets out a low whistle and twists the door open. there’s an uncharacteristic, loud clatter and a second later he stands at the threshold, doused in hot pink glitter, dog-less, in the middle of his house.
i’ll get you back, healy!
matty giggles to himself and takes his phone out of his pocket, trying not to get the glitter everywhere. (although by now it’s pretty much settled into his dna, he’s sure of it)
she picks up on the second ring, followed by a very fake clearing of her throat.
“did you steal my dog, darling?” matty launches straight into it, trying to hide the smile in his voice.
“no!” and then there’s a faint little yip in the background that sounds suspiciously like the one he hears daily.
“right…”
“right. that all?”
as gently as he can, matty dusts off the glitter in place and walks back inside in search of a mop or something. he needs to contain the carnage somehow, but on the phone she clears her throat again.
“did anything else happen?”
the little giggle in her voice is so obvious to him. matty imagines what she looks like on the other side—on her bed maybe, cuddled up with mayhem who secretly seems to prefer her so much more than matty. on her bed in just a t-shirt maybe… he reigns it in before the thoughts can progress any forward.
“mayhem seems to have ran away.”
“oh?” then there’s a little silence, which instantly fills with the sound of paws on hard wood. “maybe he’ll come back,” she hedges, “maybe…once the dye in my hair goes away, who knows.”
“is that so?”
“yeah, just a hunch.”
the silence stretches on, none of them willing to hang up first. matty wonders if she’s sat there biting her lip, trying to stifle a laugh. matty wonders what it would be like if he were to bite her lip instead.
“still green?” he tries to tease, voice slightly breathy.
“still sparkly?” she quips back. and well…yes, he is. he’s sure he’s going to be for the rest of time.
“the day’s not over yet, sweetheart.”
sweetheart. where the fuck did that come from? matty runs a shaky hand through his hair and grimaces when it come away hot pink and sparkly. it’s all over his hair too… great.
“is that a threat, darling?” matty almost chokes at the word, his face heats up. fuckin’ hell… if this is what he’s like after one word…
“we’ll see about that tonight.”
and then like a coward he hangs up before she can shake his composure any further. he closes his eyes and focuses on the birthday wish one more time—it might as well be today, he’s faux-celebrating his birthday later with a few people who can’t be there on the actual day. he just needs to get his shit together and…not fuck up.
he fucks up almost instantly.
when he walks into the dimly lit pub, he can spot the green-head right from the door. she’s in a flowery blouse and jeans and pulling the hair off so well that he wonders if he should have done this months ago. but matty shakes off his jitters and walks up to his friends.
several of them are already pretty tipsy, singing and dancing along to the tunes. he is fashionably late after all. they greet him, slapping him on the shoulder as he passes by, drunkenly yelling “happy birthday” even though it’s a week away. graciously, he thanks them all, laughing and joking with his friends before making his way to her.
turns out the list of tipsy people also includes her.
she beams when she sees him, hurrying to put her cocktail away so she can throw her arms around him. a second later her perfume invades all his senses. matty closes his eyes and takes a deep breath of it.
“i was waiting for you,” she declares, a few words coming out slurred. “i’ve decided i like the green.”
“yeah? it looks beautiful on you.”
quickly she wrinkles her nose, stepping away from him. “you’re making fun of me!”
“‘m not!” he vehemently defends himself but in the end it’s all in good fun. fondly, she rolls her eyes and grabs his hand, pulling him to the bar.
“i asked them to set aside this one bottle of wine for you. feel like you’d like it.”
a strange warmth spreads through him—it’s not the most special thing someone’s done for him, it’s just a bottle of wine. but then again nothing is just something when it comes to her.
she thought about him. she’d been thinking about him. however briefly.
matty almost leans across and kisses her then but thinks better of it. a crowded pub is no place to do it.
turns out his first mistake of the night is drinking the wine. well… drinking too much and too fast anyway.
what starts off as slow sips and savouring the red quickly turns into glasses of wine in a corner while they joke around and giggle uncontrollably. she’s flushed, twinkly-eyed and a bit more than tipsy now.
matty, on the other hand, might very well be drunk.
he feels the effects of it—the feeling of his blood being replaced by wine, the buzz in his head, the lack of filter in his words. oh, his head is going to kill him tomorrow.
he doesn’t mind though, anything to be sat here across from her, giggling over an overpriced (but delicious) bottle of wine. matty leans forward, chin on the palm of his hand and watches her laugh at his silly joke.
“you’re gorgeous, did i tell you that?” for a moment he doesn’t recognise the voice. it’s slurred and deeper than usual and that’s not something he’d ever admit to her so casually. but then she giggles and ruffles his hair, laughing harder when her fingers come back, coated in a bit of glitter.
“you’re so drunk. but i appreciate it, thank you.”
“no no, i’m not! i mean i am but— i mean it i—” he’s wide-eyed and failing to explain just how much he means it. matty just wants her to understand. this is not some frivolous confession of a wine-addled brain, this is serious. he is serious.
desperation overrides any sane instinct in his brain. which is his second mistake of the night.
the words come out faster than he can process them, faster than he can filter them and make them digestible.
“you– you don’t know how long i’ve waited to say this. every time i get enough courage there’s either a boyfriend or something else. there’s always— fuck, forget all that. that doesn’t matter—”
“matty—”
“no, no listen to me, listen to what i’m trying to tell you.”
the more he speaks (rambles) the more the smile slips from her face, replaced by something he can’t quite place. she’s not… disgusted by him, is she? he hopes not. that really would be the final nail in the coffin.
“i’ve been trying—” he chokes, deeply swallowing more wine, “—been trying to tell you, i love you! i love you, i love you, i love you. i have for so long!”
and that’s when she pulls back entirely, leaning back into her chair as if she can’t put enough distance between them. her face shutters into an unreadable mask and matty feels panic bubbling up deep inside his stomach.
shit shit shit.
what has he done.
oh god, he clearly wasn’t thinking straight. this wasn’t how it was meant to go. this wasn’t how any of it wasn’t meant to go. it was meant to be followed by a kiss and maybe more. it was meant to be followed by an “i love you too”.
not… indifference.
or worse… disgust.
which is when he makes his third (and perhaps the worst) mistake of the night.
matty laughs. it’s hysterical and sharp and verging on cruel. he laughs until he can feel the tears in his eyes and he can only hope they don’t spill down his cheeks. and then he says the words he can never take back.
“oh god, look at your face. i was joking!”
“what…”
“it’s still the first of april, did you forget?”
each word is like a nail being hammered into his heart. but matty hopes it would be enough. in two seconds she’d roll her eyes and laugh at herself for falling for it. in a minute they will go back to drinking and joking. matty can pretend. he’s become quite good at it.
instead, she gets up so fast that her chair almost clatters to the ground.
in the dim lightning of the pub, matty can’t see the tears gathered in her eyes. although that might be because his eyes are still blurry from his own tears.
“love—”
“you’re a cunt, matty.” she says the words with an eerie calmness, mechanically gathers her bag and phone and walks away. only then does he register the extent of what’s happening.
the wine bottle falls to the floor and shatters when he drunkenly bumps into the table. red spills everywhere, soaking his shoes, the leg of his jeans. he hurries after her, tripping and falling as the full force of the alcohol hits him once again, calling out her name again and again. the music drowns it out.
she’s out the door before matty’s even halfway across the pub.
fuck… how did it go so wrong so quick.
how did he mess it up so bad…
he almost retches right there on the floor, grabbing a passer-by to steady himself. he needs to do something, he needs to make this right. he needs to…
he doesn't know what. his heart pounds in his chest and his throat feels so dry and tight he can barely speak, barely even breathe. matty sinks to his knees right there in the middle of the pub, gasping for breath.
he doesn’t know what happens next, doesn’t remember much after that. all he remembers is the feeling of doom and the loud, odd rhythm of his heart.
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yard work isn’t always work
warnings: mature content. matty x fem!reader. does this even make sense? idk. yardman matty lol ;) i didn’t proofread omg
note: im so rusty sorry. also it’s just super blurbish as the story goes on. i’m done ignoring this blog (maybe).
you shuffled down the stairs. the sunlight was bright, streaming through every window you passed, no matter which side of the house you were on.
following the sounds of dishes rattling, you groaned your way into the kitchen and slid bonelessly into a chair at the bar. you threw a disdainful glance at the window, the persistent sound of someone mowing the lawn grating on your nerves.
"isn't it too early to be up? what time is it, anyway?" you asked, rubbing your palm over your eyes and blinking at your mother where she stood at the stove.
“you know it’s the yardman,” her voice lilting with good-natured sarcasm. she pulled a plate from the cupboard, "want some eggs while i'm dishing?"
you hummed, not really sure if your stomach was ready for food yet, but ended up nodding anyway. "okay."
your mother scooped a tall pile of scrambled eggs onto a plate, topped them with a piece of buttered toast that slid off the eggs. she slid it toward you. as soon as the scent of the breakfast wafted around you, your salivary glands kicked in, ravenous.
you’d shoveled several bites into your mouth, pausing to rip off pieces of cooling toast. “thank you for this," you mumbled around another mouthful of food.
your mother smiles, her wrinkles prominent and jutting in her skin. she pulls bottled water from the fridge, and quickly foils an egg sandwich placing it next to you. “who’s this for?” you pick up the sandwich, warm off the cool marble. “the yardman, he’s been working on the lawn since six.” you shoot her a petulant look letting the foiled food drop on the bar. your mother unties her apron pulling it off her neck. “give it to him will you? i’ll be back i have errands to run.”
you groan at your mother shoving more egg into your mouth sulking at the thought of having to step outside.
•
you slide the glass doors open, stepping onto the patio searching for the man. your father pays this man to landscape, garden and even clean the pool. you’ve caught glimpses of him here and there but you’ve never spoken to him. in hand is a dripping water bottle, the condensation leaks down your wrist onto your elbow and you wipe at it stepping bare onto the grass. you hear the sound of mowing still, this time near your side of the house where your room resides. you move through the grass peaking out from the corner of the house which shields you.
you see him there, pushing the lawnmower. he’s in a fitted tank top, tattoos galore they peak out from his chest littering his flexed arms. his overgrown curls are falling onto his face, and he lets out pants rubbing the sweat from his forehead onto his jeans. you hope he sees you and stops the mower as you’re not too keen on yelling over it. the man moves the mower closer to the clean patches of fresh grass that you occupy and quickly turns off the motor. you step closer to him awkwardly in your pajamas his food in hand.
“my mom made this for you,” you step closer to the man. he’s scanning your body for a long while until he speaks up. “thank you,” he clears his throat taking the items from your hand. when he takes the breakfast you wipe the last droplets off your arm, feeling exposed in your shorts. “um - yeah,” you gulp taking a step back. “you’re welcome.” you choke out backing away from the man’s gaze hopefully in the direction of the sliding door leading inside. you watch his lips turn into a crooked grin, twisting the bottle cap’s seal open.
•
“mom what’s his name anyway,” you snort out. your hand is cupping your chin in support as you look out the screen window. your mother is hunched over struggling to pull dinner out of the oven with mitts. she sighs asking you to set out a board to place the rotisserie on. “who hun?” you hop off the bar stool to rummage through the bottom cupboards for a board. you find a wooden one sliding it onto the marble in front of your mom as she places dinner on it to cool. she discards her mitts into the drawer, digging for cutlery. “the man that works on the yard,” you spit out trying to hide your embarrassment. you pick at your lips knawing at them raw. “i think it’s matthew? matty? maybe, i don’t know your father knows.” she shrugs stabbing into the chicken’s breast.
you nod releasing your lips from your teeth.
•
the next morning you awaken to the lul of the lawnmower. you scowl rolling out of bed and the sun meets you just as you push your curtains out of the way. you squint letting your eyes adjust to the man, he’s pushing the mower towards your window. he has sunglasses on today, and you’re confused as to why he’s mowing the lawn for the second time this week. you bang on your window catching his attention as he continues trudging the mower across the grass with a grin.
you roll your eyes stomping to the screen door in the kitchen quickly sliding it open to find him obnoxiously mowing parts of the grass closest to your window. “do you mind?” you shout at him from the patio. he flicks his sunglasses up revealing his daunting stare accompanied with a seamy smile. “im sorry, princess did i wake you?” he taunts as he tucks his glasses in the plaid pocket letting them hang from his button up. you roll your eyes crossing your arms over your breasts, “it’s rude you know? mowing right next to my window when i’m sleeping. my daddy is paying you after all.” your lips part with a huff scanning his attire.
hes covered in grass clippings and sweat. the bits cover his neck and arms that are freckled with sun spots. he’s dressed in denim and a wife beater under his green plaid which tucks into his jeans. his hair is scattered with grey along with some stubble coming in. you can tell he’s taking you in as well. his stare is gaping tearing into your heart and heat. you squeeze your legs together, and he stays staring with a knowing grin. “your daddy is paying me to clean up the yard, not worry about interrupting your beauty sleep.” he emphasizes the word daddy and you feel your heat pool from inside. you can feel the wrinkles on your forehead form and you squeeze your arms tighter around your chest before huffing.
“whatever, i’ll just tell my dad to fire your ass.” you mumble under your breath turning to the sliding door. you hear matty start up the motor with a whir and it’s running. he starts trudging forward with a grin, “counting on it,” he calls out over the mower. you step inside letting the cool tile invade your soles. you spin around furiously slamming the sliding door pulling the curtain leaving matty in the heat outside.
•
the next day matty is there as expected, tending to the pool. he’s scooping insects and weed clippings from the water tossing them overhead. you decided to go out for some rays with a book you’ve been putting off for a while. you rest in the chair nearest to the pool, holding the book open to your face. the words melt into your head overwhelmed by matty’s constant scooping and plopping of the pool net. “will you quit that?” you call out placing the book on your abdomen shielding your face from the sun. “it’s annoying.” you complain and matty’s on the other side of the pool just dipping the net back in, he clicks his tongue continuing.
you groan loudly, shutting your eyes listening to matty dip and splash around the pool’s surface. he moves across the pool at this time nearer to you and you take a look at him. he’s in his usual uniform a tank top and denim nothing too special. you watch his tattoo’s in the sun and his arms flex with every dip. matty turns with a grin over his shoulder knowingly - he’s got you. your skin prickles with unexpected excitement and you find the silence filled with your heart pounding in your throat.
matty takes a look at your splayed body, almost freshly tan in the tiniest bikin he’s ever seen. he’s an older man, the looks feel dirty coming from him. his toothy grin says it all when he leaves your side. he takes the tool out of the pool walking across the lawn to the tool shed.
the shed was tucked away in the corner of your backyard always forgotten by your father and mother. you watch matty make his way over opening the shed to rummage through it with clashes.
you lift yourself up off the chair, letting your toes touch the pavement of the side of the pool. matty’s left the shed door open and you peer into it from where you sit just across the yard. you lift yourself off the chair scurrying over to the freshly cut grass, the pieces gather on your ankles tickling you. almost skipping over to the shed you pry inside and matty finds you. he lunges at you slamming you against the other side of the shed, it rattles with a few tools falling over behind matty as he swings the door shut.
“fuckin’ slut, think you can prance around in this?” matty hooks a finger in your bottoms pulling at the bow letting it snap back to your hip. you wince bracing your chest with a whine. your heat pools, as matty holds your hips pinching at them harshly. he pulls at your bikini top almost ripping it off you and you hold onto the fabric writhing with him. he tugs at the middle of the bikini with a finger watching it snap back with your tits. “your body’s perfect.” he latches onto your neck trailing kisses never daring to leave a mark.
your legs squeeze together for pressure and matty tuts prying them open with his knee. he grins, pulling at the bows of your bottoms watching them drop to the plywood floor. he slides his fingers across your opening watching your face light up and your body fall into his. he lets a finger slide in working his way into you slowly. “fuckin’ wet cunt, wet for me?” he breathes out sliding another finger in and you’re moaning, hiding in his neck. his fingers slip out of you leaving you vacant as you huff. matty gives your cunt a slap, then another and you yelp. “whats that for?!” you cry out and your pussy clenches.
you tremble and he pulls his hand away to slap your pussy again. “you like me doing this, huh?” he swipes at your puffy clit, finally giving you what you’ve been wanting. “tell me, princess. you had a lot to say just now,” he refers to the pool and you shake your head while matty takes your jaw puppeteering you to look at him. he squeezes your lips together with pressure, “come on,” he clicks his tongue swiping faster.
“i- fuck. i love it” you mutter out disjointedly, “and what else?” he cocks his eyebrows holding back a grin. “‘m sorry,” you sputter out finally and matty’s fingers leave your clit. you cry at the feeling, just as you’re about to finish all over his hand - he stops.
he takes a step back unbuckling his belt with force letting it jingle for a while until he’s undone his button and zipper. he looks at you smugly “you wanna cum? get on your knees,” he slides his jeans down with his boxers cupping his erection. you’re surprised but still you fall to your knees where you stand, almost on fours crawling to matty’s feet where you sit back on your achilles tendons. he’s pushing his cock at your nose and lips letting it take the tint off your lips. you sit there with your hands on your knees looking up at him diligently waiting for him, as he’s pumping his cock in front of you.
you watch him slide his hand back and forth thumbing at his tip, groaning. you pout with your prettiest whine sticking your pink tongue out flashing it at matty. he breathes out pushing his cock onto your face again and you oblige opening your mouth sticking out your tongue for him. he slaps his cock onto your tongue pushing it back into your mouth. “put this dirty mouth to use,” he stifles out hitting the back of your throat and your throat rejects him sabotaging you. matty coos petting your head as his cock twitches in your mouth finding it’s space in between your swirling tongue. his hands end up at the back of your head slowly pushing his cock back into your mouth deeper, “dirty girl,” he moans and you gag again tears forming in your eyes. matty starts bucking slowly into your mouth holding your head in place. with every buck your throat rejects his cock until you’ve grown used to it, you start swirling your tongue at his length when you can and his hips stifle sloppily pushing into your mouth even more. you try your best to open wide, your jaw is slack and sore you almost think it’s locked with how long you’ve had it open.
your tears are dry now because matty swiped them away as soon as they came sliding down your scarlet cheeks. “you take this cock well,” matty grunts out slowing down for your poor mouth. you’re drooling at the sides of your mouth and you feel shame as it drops to your knees. “taking my cock in the shed like a whore, fuckin’ perfect,” matty’s words make you whine and he’s shuddering inside your mouth from the vibrations of your moans “gonna make me come, god” matty’s head falls back with his mouth ajar and your heart races with anticipation. you start bobbing your head eagerly letting matty’s hands fall in your hair gently grasping at it. you watch matty’s face contort with a whine releasing into your mouth, your eyes widen pulling him out of your mouth immediately to taste his cum.
your jaw is aching, pounding almost and you roll matty’s cum onto your tongue to show him proudly. he’s still in a haze looking down at your face, ruined as you swallow his cum. he stands you up reaching down with his calloused hand tugging at your jaw and you oblige standing to your feet. you look down at your knees, they’re wobbly and raw from the wood of the shed’s flooring. you wince and matty pulls you in for a peck, “poor girl,” he whispers pushing you back onto a work bench. the bench rattles with your father’s tools and matty grins. he guides you to flip over, pushing the rest of your body down onto the splintered wood.
matty squeezes at your waist and hips pawing at your ass giving it a strike. you whine eagerly standing on your tiptoes poking your ass out further and matty chuckles grabbing a handful of you to guide himself in. with his other hand he takes his cock to tease your slit, he staggers only clutching your ass tighter. “so wet, princess” matty mumbles under his breath, only for him to hear but it travels to your ears then straight to your gushing heat.
you anticipate matty’s length as he slowly pushes inside your entrence, you tense and he pinches your hips meanly. he drives himself into you and you gasp adjusting to him pressing your body against the split wood of the table. your legs buckle together and matty starts digging into your cunt, it’s sloppy and wet with him slipping out each time he pulls his cock back. matty observes his cock, slick with your heat before pushing it back in acquiring a moan from you. “fuck me, please.” you cry pressing onto matty’s front in desperation.
he smiles, “so drunk for this cock, i’m already inside you, princess” he growls draping over your body. matty’s buzzing and you jut your ass back at him to start moving. he removes himself from your backside, groaning when he starts drilling into you again. your fingers turn white pressing onto the table in desperation for something to hold onto. “what would your daddy do if he found me doing this to you?” he hums, grabbing a handful of your hair. your head rushes with humiliation and you clench around matty’s cock. “probably fire me, right? you’d never get fucked like this again.” you think about what it would be like to get caught and your body sinks. your father’s little girl turned into a whore by the yardman.
“your little body’s begging for me,” matty’s ramblings snaps you out of your thoughts as he pulls your hair gently and you’re whining again, letting him do as he pleases. “cunt is aching for me, can feel it” he hisses tugging on your hair and this time you cry out. “god, angel you like when i talk to you like this?” matty chokes out repeatedly slamming into you and you try to nod in agreement “makes me feel dirty,” you whimper and matty snickers letting your hair go tracing his fingers over your neck then your tits. he quickly squeezes at them in their covering letting his fingers trace across your ribs gently. your body itches with bliss, as you find a way to dig yourself deeper into the tool table to present yourself to matty.
“wanna come,” you babble matty’s name and his hand slides down to your clit while fucking into you. he swipes diligently pushing you over the edge as you cry out into the shed’s interior. you feel yourself cum all over matty’s cock and he growls “came all over this cock, good girl.” he keeps pumping into you, rubbing at your bud and you spasm out of sensitivity. “stop, stop, please -“ you smother another moan as matty surrenders leaving your clit alone. your body isn’t coming down as matty still bucks into you with sputtering hips. he lasts not even a minute longer slipping out of your cunt to cum onto your backside. you feel hot spurts on your lower back and you look over your shoulder to see matty fisting his cock for what’s left. he sighs contentedly spotting the cum on your back as he lifts up his boxers tucking his cock into his underwear then jeans.
he scavenges for your bottoms on the floor and you turn to him as he hands them to you. he watches you slip back into them tying the bows on each side. putting the bottoms back on feel dirty, especially with matty’s orgasm all over your back. you frown at him and he steps towards you, petting your head. he runs his fingers through your knotty hair clasping the back of your head for a peck on your forehead. matty hums massaging your head, “sweet girl,” as he plants another kiss unraveling his hand from your hair. he steps back taking a deep look at you before he leaves,
“tell your daddy,” he hesitates grinning, only to tease you. “that i’ll be here at six tomorrow morning to tend to the weeds out front.”
#matty healy#matty healy x reader#the 1975#matty healy fanfiction#matty healy smut#the 1975 smut#matty healy x you#matty healy fic#the 1975 fanfic#this is trash fuck
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no. 1 party anthem
matty healy x photographer!reader
A/N: lowkey projecting bc im a photographer/videographer❤️ this is set during like self-titled. if u could tell. named this after the AM song bc i think it fits (the bridge of this song is so them coded) this is unnecessarily long (6.1k words) but anyway Enjoy
warnings: smut 18+. um fingering, p in v unprotected sex, oral (m and f receiving), masturbation a bit? (male), degradation, praise, use of a camera during sex, Sir kink, exhibitionism (kinda), sex on a couch, light choking/slapping (blink and miss it!), probs more kinda filthy etc..
Today was shit. Complete and utter shit. Your alarm didn’t go off, you spilled coffee all over yourself, had to go home to change, and you were going to be late to your first clients appointment. It’s only 8:30, and you could already tell it was going to be a bad day.
Your first client was booked at 7:45. You only had four appointments today. Normally, you’d be a bit more booked out. But, your last clients would take up more time than usual. An up-and-coming band you heard, that were quite popular already. Their management had informed them about your local studio, and an appointment was made.
Upon walking into your studio promptly at 8:00, you saw that your best friend was stalling for you. She had your first client engulfed in mindless conversation. God love her, Lexi knew how to keep a crowd entertained. Really, showing up 15 minutes late wasn’t a good look. You were glad she was here to null some of the damage.
As you walked up to them, you caught the tail end of her gossiping, no doubt. You placed your hand on Lexi’s shoulder, startling her out of conversation. “Oh! Let me get out of your way. I was just telling Christian how my last shift at the diner was absolute madness. As always, though. He’s all checked in. Have fun, hope the shoot goes well!” You shot her an appreciative smile, then an apologetic one to Christian.
Stepping out of the lobby and leading him to the studio, you were face to face with him. “I am so, so sorry I kept you waiting. This morning was one from hell, for sure.”
“It’s alright, don’t worry. Shit happens.” He smiled back at you, following you into the room.
You were grateful for his understanding, hoping it wasn’t too much of an inconvenience. You prided yourself on being punctual and professional. Thankfully, the studio was already set up for his shoot
You took the lens cap off your camera and began to set up your tripod for some head shots. Flipping the camera switch to ON, you then turned to Christian.
“Let’s get started.”
…
Your next 2 appointments went on without a hitch. They were both fairly basic shoots, nothing too heavy. Your 2nd client was even a regular. She was so lovely. Today she came in to get maternity photos with her husband. Considering how long she’s been coming to your studio, you were ecstatic for her.
You were still a bit out of it and tired though, the effects of your morning not completely worn off yet. You had an hour and 45 minutes before your last clients for the day came in. The band that you’ve been anticipating.
It was 11:34 now, so you were taking this as an opportunity for your lunch break. You decided to go to the sandwich shop that was about a block down from your studio. Walking out of the darkroom in your facility, (some guests preferred genuine photographic film) you spotted Lexi. Still behind the front desk, but now on a stool, slouched and looking at her phone. Mindlessly scrolling, she was kicking her feet back and forth as they dangled from her place in her seat.
“Hungry?” You came up beside her, tapping her thigh twice. Lexi was pulled out of whatever she was watching on her phone, looking up at you. “Mhm, starving. Lunch?”
“On me,” You confirmed, “thought we could get it in before our last clients. They’re gonna take a while, but I’m looking forward to it.” You said honestly, looking out the studio’s glass windows to the street. “Have we ever shot a band?” You use the term ‘we’ loosely. When you and your best friend both got a start, you always knew that you were going to be more hands-on. She didn’t necessarily share the passion for photography, but when she had no shifts picked up for her service job at the local diner, she would pay you a visit. She stuck beside you, and you’re thankful for it.
Lexi does most of the behind the scenes work for you when she’s there, and it would honestly be 10x harder without her. “Don’t think so. I would have remembered that. Every guy in a band is, like, insanely hot.” She hopped off her stool, beat white converse hitting the ground.
“Good to know where your priorities are. Hopefully they’re cooperative.” You wondered aloud, you knew they were young. That normally meant they would be rowdy, too. Four guys around your age was bad news in general, even worse that they’re musicians. “Hopefully they’re hot.” Lexi corrects, too caught up in picking at her nail beds to see your expression.
She had you laughing out loud. Wide eyes and an even wider grin on your face. “Right, extra incentive.” You picked up your keys to the front door that were lying on one of the shelves under the front desk. Checking your watch and walking to the door, you flipped the sign to CLOSED so you and Lex could grab a bite in peace.
…
You and Lexi wasted more time than you thought. You were out for at least an hour, having went shopping after eating. You both decided you could use a new outfit. Not for anything particular, but just to treat yourselves. Then, you traveled back to the studio.
30 minutes until your next client, you still had time to kill. You went to read the email from their management, again. You saw they specifically wanted a couch in their shoot. You should probably set up their studio now. You knew you had an old, black leather couch in the back somewhere. Finding it would be the hard part.
It wouldn’t be in any of your front studios, so you decided to check the last one first. Studio 13, it was more of a storage room now. When you first leased this place, you were pretty sure it used to be a one-level warehouse. You’re never booked to the point where you’re using all the studios, and you don’t have enough staffing anyway. Still, it cleans up nicely.
You end up shouting for Lex’s help dragging the big couch to your front studio. You had already set up a white tarp for your backdrop, knowing it was a pretty minimalistic shoot. As you lug the couch along the concrete floor, the feet of it scraping against it to make a rather brash noise, you began to think the soft, calming music that you queued to combat it wasn’t working very well.
You finally push the last bit of the couch into the studio, dragging it in front of the white tarp. Lexi raised her hand for a high five, which you gladly reciprocate. You look at her with a grin. “Not bad, huh? Little studio we got going.” You both laugh, staring at the quite bleak set.
“Best in town,” Lex returns dryly, she steps out and looks to the front windows. “Those your clients?” Before you even look, you answer. Albeit sarcastically, “And I’m supposed to know, how? I’ve never met these people before.” But the words died in your throat the moment you looked. They had to be your next clients. You didn’t think anyone could fit the bill for ‘band members’ more perfectly.
So, there they were. Smoking and loitering outside the studio. And Lexi was right, because she always had to be. They were hot. No sooner than you think it, the words are coming out her mouth. “Christ, they’re handsome.” All of them wearing some short of black getup, with tight jeans and t-shirts. One boy, with longer, blonde hair, had his sunglasses on with a snapback. She laughs through her sentence in disbelief, a hand coming to her mouth. You can’t help but follow suit.
“Right, well. Even if they are, he best not ash his cig in my flower pots.” You squinted your eyes, the cigarette resting between the boys middle and index figure. Trailing your gaze to his face, he had dark curly hair. A pale complexion with deep brown eyes, cheeks sunken in as he took a drag of his cigarette. The face that, after you finished staring, you saw was looking right at you with a half-smirk. You smiled back and looked to Lex, taking a step back into the front studio. “He saw me.”
“You weren’t exactly being subtle, but oh well. That’s the one you want?” She raises her eyebrows in a tease, a wide grin splitting across her lips. Your face and body heat, eyes widening. “Can you not? I need to be professional. This is the real deal, you know? They’ve got management and everything.” You didn’t wanna blow your shot, you knew this was the foot in the door to bigger things. Cute band members were not taking this one from you.
Your hands came subconsciously to brush at your outfit, looking down at yourself to see if you looked presentable. You could practically hear your best friend’s thoughts, and the smirk on her face. You ignored her.
The bell on your door rang with entrance, and you turned to see one of the guys walking in. He had shorter dirty blonde hair, and you could see one of the others stomping on his cigarette before following behind.
Putting on your customer service smile, you took a few steps back to make room for the 4 men in the lobby. You scooted closer to Lexi, suddenly feeling outnumbered. Four sets of eyes were now looking back at you. Two brunettes, one who had closer to black hair. Two blondes, one whose was longer and lighter.
“Nice to meet you,” You sighed out, their intimidating gazes piercing. “So, um, welcome to our studio.” You introduced the both of you, giving your name and Lexi’s. Gesturing between the two of you with a wave of your hand.
They went down the line doing the same. Ross, Matty, Adam, and George. In that order, introductions exchanged in their thick accents through giggles. The boy you had taken interest in you now knew as Matty, and he was only drawing you in more.
“Well, we can get started on your session early since… you’re here.” You looked to the group, waiting for some sort of approval. You got a couple head nods, and a smirk from Matty.
“That eager to get us in, babe?” He chuckled, knocking his shoulder into his friend’s playfully. You felt embarrassment flood through you, but you led them to the studio with your head up.
“Sure. So, Studio 13. I’ll get a lot of ‘full band’ shots, but your manager said he wanted some solo shots of the each of you, too. Think it’ll be easier to get the group ones now, though.” You told them, wringing your hands slightly.
There was a small murmur of agreement, and you turned around to get your camera ready. Checking your lens, SD card, battery. “Whatever you think, you’re the pro.” Your head shot up, seeing Ross smile reassuringly at you. You returned the gesture and got back to work.
As you walked around the room to flick your lights on, you saw Matty shooting his friend a look. You didn’t think too much of it, but your eyes couldn’t stop finding his face. You were gonna have fun photographing him solo. “Okay, everyone! Get together, pose, do whatever you want. I’ll take a bunch of shots.”
After a few pictures, you stopped. Lowering your camera. “Maybe.. We should get you in the middle.” You pointed at Matty, him freezing in his place at the end of the line. “I mean, you’re just…” You trailed off, hoping he’d get the point.
George spoke up, saving you from having to complete your sentence. “She’s saying you’re the shortest, mate. Get in the middle.” He snickered, hand raising to his mouth to hide his smile.
Matty’s smile dropped, shoving his friend’s shoulder. “Whatever,” he muttered, moving to his new spot. “Better?” He tried to hold back his laugh, but was failing over the sound of his friends chuckles in the background.
Once you got them started, you could see they really were naturals. You assumed their close bond caused them to work so well and naturally together. Joking around, but still getting good shots.
However, this perception faded when you had to go in for the solos. Of course, above anything, they were boys. And they were also making your job a living hell. No matter who you were photographing, the other three were trying to get a laugh. Anything to make their friend break.
Your last straw was when you tried to get a photo of Adam, and Matty all but fell into his lap. You laughed along, (because truly, it really was just a little bit funny), but forced yourself back into work mode.
“Okay, this isn’t working. How about for the solo shots the rest of you stand out in the hallway? And we get a little rotation.” You suggested, trying to make yourself sound as light hearted as possible. Though a wave of whines passed over the group, they ultimately agreed in the end.
Working with them one-on-one was really nice. The two guys you shot so far, Adam and George, were very intelligent and funny. Unnaturally respectful for men your age, and you really couldn’t complain.
You finished both of them up, their mini shoots taking about 15 minutes each. You went back in the hallway you collect another one of them.
Adam and George now stood to the side, leaving Matty and Ross to linger right outside the door. You opened the door, looking at both of them and keeping your palm on the door handle. “Who’s next?”
Ross’ eyes went to Matty’s, about to step backwards and let him go. Then, Matty’s arm shot out to land on Ross’ shoulder. It seemed he tried to give his friend a shove forward, but the most he got out of Ross was a stumble. “Ross will go next. Save the best for last and all that, right?”
You giggled at Matty’s antics, while the rest of his friends let out sighs and eye rolls. Ross mumbled something under his breath, a sarcastic ‘right, sure..’ was the most you caught. You then lead him into the studio, closing the door on your way.
Ross’ session took about 5 minutes more than the others. He was incessantly flirting, making it hard to do your job. And while there was no denying that he was very cute, you knew they were all harmless comments.
You were finding out quickly that the boys were good company. And the shots were all turning out more than great. They were all so naturally photogenic, and the camera loved them. You doubted you’d have to do much editing.
…
You walked out with Ross, on your way to finally bring Matty in. You two lightly chatted on your way out, Matty’s eyes landing on you the second the door opened. He looked at Ross and tilted his head, to which the taller boy only looked down at him and grinned.
You broke the awkward silence, clapping your hands together. “Right, well. Matty, last but not least and all that.” You step back and put your hands up, gesturing for him to step in before you.
Once you finally got him away from the rest of the band and you closed the door, his whole demeanor shifted. Matty turned around instantly to look at you, and you looked down to the floor. You could see his smile through your periphery.
“Okay, so. For the rest of the guys I got a few of them standing and a few of them sitting on the couch…” You trail off, looking around the room. At this point, you’re just desperately trying to avoid eye contact with him. Maybe saving him for last wasn’t the brightest idea.
“Okay,” Matty nods his head, eyes following yours and looking around the studio. “Should I.. get on the couch?” He says offhandedly, a hand coming to hide the smirk that’s blooming on his face.
You feel your face get hot, but you agree anyway. “Um, yeah. That’ll work.” You walk over to the studio light, dragging it in place from where you moved it when with Ross.
After getting the area set up, you turn back to Matty. He’s looking at you expectantly, waiting for direction. “You can just pose however you want. I’ll just take a bunch of shots and there’s bound to be some keepers.” You smile and turn your camera on, fiddling with the settings.
“Have to tell me if I’m doing good, then. Don’t know what I’m doing when I pose, to be honest.” He laughs, moving in his seat a bit. You scoff, still too preoccupied with your camera to realize you did it out loud. “What?” he asks intrigued, still smiling.
“Don’t think you could really look bad. I mean, you’re photogenic and good looking to begin with, so.” You press your lips together, the words flowing out of your mouth too freely. You turn around and walk to a cart that’s in the corner of the room, pretending to grab something from it.
“Yeah, sweetheart? Think I look good?” His smile grows unbelievably wider, not being able to hold back his teasing remarks. You roll your eyes, obviously not meaning the blatant compliment to come out. You come closer to him and he kicks his knee out so it brushes your thigh.
Trying to brush it off, you shrug your shoulders. “You caught me,” You said with the faintest smirk on your face. Taking photos of him flows naturally. He’s just too.. perfect. And though you don’t throw that word around, he really is. You already love the few shots you have of him.
You get down on your knees to take the next picture from a better angle, leaning back on your calves as you do. Matty’s eyes widen and immediately find yours. It doesn’t register in your head what he’s thinking, until you see him shift in his seat.
He doesn’t do it subtly, and you know he wants you to look. You’re no better, so easily giving into temptation. Your eyes drag to his hips, watching the way he lifts himself off the couch momentarily.
“Alright, babe?” He calls, drawing your attention back up to his face. Though, your gaze lingers on his mouth. He winks at you.
“Should I be asking you that instead?” You hide behind the camera, snapping more pictures. You remembered the promise you made to Lexi and yourself. Be professional.
He chuckled, bringing his hands to run them along his thighs. “Only if you’re gonna help me out.” His eyes search yours for an answer, and you can only guess that you look as desperate as you feel. You nod.
His hands run higher, rubbing over the tent in his jeans. “Gonna need your words, then.” He smirks, and you feel so out of control. But it feels nice.
“Yes, please. I’ll help you.” You get up from your spot on the floor, ready to move towards him. Matty’s hand presses on himself harder, and he groans.
“Ah,” He tsks, stopping you in your tracks. “Don’t get to touch me yet, we’re not done our photo shoot.” He smiles, which then gets interrupted with a moan. The only thing you’re focusing on is how he works himself with his hand.
“Please, Matty. Need you.” You’re already begging him, but you don’t dare move from your spot. Because you want to be good for him. You feel the pit in your stomach, and then the pool of arousal in your panties.
“C’mon, take a picture of me baby. Isn’t that your job?” Matty throws his head back, palming himself through his jeans even more. You feel your knees weaken, the camera suddenly heavier in your hand.
You bring the camera up to your face, looking through the view finder. Matty looks sinful. You clench your thighs together and his hips lift off the couch even more, a whimper falling past his lips. You take the photo.
“Knew you’d be so fucking eager. Could see ya eye fucking me since we got here.” Matty starts to unzip his pants, allowing his cock to be less constrained by the pressure. You don’t even think when your finger hits the button.
“Like you weren’t doing the same?” You shoot back, voice coming out breathier than intended. He lifted his hips up, pulling his jeans down past his thighs. He was left in his black Calvin Klein boxers. The imprint of his hard cock very much visible.
He strokes himself over his boxers, mouth parting slightly. “Watch that mouth, thought you were a good girl.” He groans out through gritted teeth. “Come here.”
You obey, of course. Walking straight to him, though your mouth gets the best of you. “Maybe you thought wrong.” You say with an innocent smile, the toes of your shoes hitting his. He grabs your wrist, bringing it to his dick. He moves your hand up and down, letting you feel all of him.
“Wanna be a brat for me, baby? Come on, take me out. I’ve got another use for that mouth.” You reach for his waistband, your camera still in your other hand. He notices the compromising position and takes it from you. You expect him to put it to the side, but he keeps it in his hand. “Get back on your knees.”
You lower yourself down, pulling Matty out fully. He’s pretty. His cock is long and thick, the tip slightly red with precum beading out from touching himself. “So big, Sir.” You look up at him through your lashes, pumping him twice. He whines out.
“Sir, huh?” He smirks, throat gravelly. You work your hands around his length more. Then, you hear it. The camera shutter. You look up, his eyes looking through the viewfinder.
“Can I suck you off?” You bat your eyelashes, waiting for permission. Matty’s hands falter, bringing the camera down slightly. He hums.
“Mhm, take your top off, sweetheart. Leave your bra and leggings.” You pull your hands off him, swiping your shirt over your head. You were wearing a blue bra with lace trim, and it pushed your tits together nicely. Thank you, Lord.
Matty started to pump his cock when your hand left, now working himself faster. “Open your mouth.” You submitted to him, quickly sticking your tongue out. You subconsciously pushed your breasts together with your elbows.
Matty slapped his dick on your tongue, loving the way your moans vibrated around him. He teased you, taking himself away to take another picture. “Please, please Sir.” You rock yourself on your heel, the desperation growing.
“Little slut,” He giggles, pressing his cock into your mouth. Groaning out when you close your lips around him. You could only take a little more than half of him in your mouth, swirling your tongue around his tip.
Your hands came up to work the rest of what didn’t fit. “Made for this, to take my cock.” You whined around him at that. Hollowing your cheeks and pulling off a bit. You say something around him that he can’t make out, and he bucks into your mouth.
Matty’s hand comes to rest on the back of your head, hand tangling in your hair. “Like that? Wanna be my fucktoy?” You nod around him, bringing one of your hands to rub yourself over your leggings. Matty guides your head down on him until you gag, letting you pull off and take a breath.
Tears welling in your eyes, you swallow your saliva and look back up at him. “I’m okay, please keep going. I like it.” You respond to the concerned look in his eyes, and he nods. Before you take him in your mouth again, you spit back on his cock.
“Fucking hell, shit.” Matty moans, throwing his head back on the frame of the couch. He pushes your head down again, making you take his whole cock in your mouth. You don’t gag this time, and he starts to move his hips.
He’s fucking your mouth, and you’ve never been more turned on in your life. You felt your knees starting to bruise, and you rubbed your cunt faster. The only thing separating you being two layers of fabric.
He pulled you off of him, then. Looking at you touching yourself. “Getting off on making me feel good? S’pathetic, baby.” He teased you, and you heard the camera go off yet again. “C’mon, up here. Gonna make you feel good.”
What a gentleman, you think. Not coming before you. The thought makes you giggle, but it’s interrupted by your own shriek when he pulls you onto the couch. He places you on his thigh, grinding you down against him. Your whines are constant and he’s not letting up. “Please, Matty. I want you.” You whimper.
Matty pulls his shirt over his head, throwing it to the side. You state shamelessly, taking in all of his tattoos. They make him even more attractive, and you know you’re only feeding his ego with your wide eyes and parted lips.
He flips your position, and now Matty’s on his knees before you. He pulls your leggings off briskly. Then, you’re only left in a bra and panties. He presses over the wet spot on your panties, and you jolt. He hooks his finger in them, and pulls them to the side.
His fingers run through your wetness, and you’re practically glistening under the studio lights. He slips his middle finger inside of you, but it’s gone as soon as it came. You squirm, needing to feel any kind of friction. He pulls you closer to him by your thighs, spreading your legs wide.
He’s just staring for a few minutes, until you feel him blow a gust of cold air onto your exposed cunt. You scream out, hips bucking off the couch. Matty lightly slaps your inner thigh. “Sh, don’t want our friends to know what a whore you are, right? Giving it up so easy for a guy you just met.” You hear the smirk in his words, his accent becoming thicker and breathing more rapid.
Without warning, he licks a bold stripe up the center of your pussy. You put your hand in front of your mouth, muffling the moans. Matty sees this, however, and has a different idea. He says something without lifting up from you, the feeling of his mouth making your eyes roll back. Finally, he pulls off of you. “Camera.”
You whine, “Huh?” The camera is suddenly being placed in your hand, the weight making you shake more. “Only fair you get some pictures of me. Had your photoshoot, now it’s my turn.” And with that, his mouth is back on you.
Matty licks your clit, pursing his lips and sucking. Your legs start to shake, and he brings his hand around to insert his middle finger in your hole. Your whole body goes weak, the light grip you have on the camera not helping.
Matty continues eating you, and he’s messy with it. You feel your slick on your inner thighs. His tongue goes inside of you, slowly moving in circles. He pulls off again, watching you clench around nothing before shoving his face between your thighs.
Your moans are nonsensical, bucking your hips off the couch and squirming uncontrollably. Matty spits on your cunt, moving his hand to pinch at your clit. “Fuck! Oh my God, Matty. Don’t tease.”
“God or Me, which one?” He laughs, pressing a light kiss to your clit. “You haven’t taken any photos, Miss ‘pro’.” He brings up Ross’ words from earlier, the realization causing you to smile. The smile is wiped away, though, when he runs his two fingers through your slit and puts them inside of you.
Your mind clears, and you finally take a photo. You don’t even bother to check the shot anymore, just clicking the button mindlessly. Matty grins and curls his fingers inside you. His tongue laying flat against your clit.
He sucks on you again, scissoring his fingers slowly. “Mm, please, Sir. Gonna cum, please.” You beg, hoping he won’t take it away from you. That he’ll just allow you to let go. You take another picture, the top of his hair and bottom of your abdomen most likely the only things visual.
“C’mon, baby. Cum for me and I’ll give you what you really want. Fill you up with this cock.” He stutters in his words, and you realize his other hand went down to lightly stroke himself. More precum that he’s been using to lubricate himself.
You cum with a shout, that’s muffled by his lips on yours. Matty swallows your moans, sticking his tongue in your mouth instead. You can barely taste yourself on his tongue, and you ride his fingers through your orgasm. “Matty, Matty. Shit, thank you.” You pant, chest heaving.
“Good girl.” He pats the top of your head condescendingly, snickering. He stands back up to his full height. “Don’t thank me yet, ‘M just getting started with you.” His hand comes behind your back, unclipping your bra and letting it fall to your lap. “Lift your hips up, love.”
You do as he says, letting him pull your panties off. He throws both scraps of fabric somewhere on the grand. His hand immediately going towards your tits. He grabs a handful, and starts kissing down your neck.
“Sir, need you now. Can’t wait anymore.” Matty’s lips attach to your collarbone. He bites you, sucking on the spot. He licks over the red mark, moving to another spot on your neck to do the same.
“You’ll fuckin’ wait if I make you. Do anything to please me, right?” You nod, head rolling to rest on your shoulder. You finally feel satisfied when Matty takes his cock, resting it just above your pussy.
He lines himself up, but never goes where you need him. He keeps bumping your clit, every time making your body twitch. He holds your hip in place, the tip of his cock prodding at your entrance. The only coherent thing coming out of your mouth is please, mixes of Matty and Sir.
He puts his tip inside of you, feeling you clench and then quickly pulling out. You whine, trying to move down the couch and put him back in. “Beg for me if you want it so bad, baby.” Matty is hard, and you know he must be aching as bad as you are. His cock and angry red, you know he needs to give in soon.
“Please! Please, I need it. Need you so bad.” You’re not above begging, obviously. And Matty loved it. He groaned, your wet cunt coming in contact with his dick again.
“Need what? Gotta use your words like a big, or I won’t know.” He rubbed his cock down your slit, pressing on top of your clit. He moved his hips forward slightly, and you squeezed your eyes shut.
You threw your head back, “You! Your cock, Matty. Need it inside me.” You tried to close your legs, clenching around nothing and needing friction. Matty gripped your inner thighs, prying them apart and pressing them to either end of the couch.
He lined himself up with your dripping hole again, slipping inside of you slightly. “Gonna give it to you, ruin you.” With that, Matty thrusted inside of you. He started slow, half his cock inside of you. He was stretching you out so good, letting you adjust. “More,” You grit out, teeth clenching in your head.
“Was gonna give it to you gently.” He pressed more of himself inside of you, watching you shake your head. His hand came up to grip your jaw, making you look at him. “You don’t want it slow, right? Just wanna be fucked dumb.” Matty pushed the rest of his cock inside of you. Finally, you were taking him in full.
“Yes! Yes, Sir.” You feel so whole, so full. It makes you want to scream, and you bring your knuckle to your mouth and bite down. You see Matty reaching behind your head for something, and see him with the camera in hand.
He pulls halfway out of you, and the camera shutters yet again. “Look at the way you grip me, christ. Just milking my cock. He starts pounding into you again, hips slapping against yours.
Matty has a steady rhythm, it feels so fucking good for you. You keep clenching around him, and you’re close again from your other orgasm. “Faster, sir. Please.” You jut your lips out. “Wanna cum.” Matty laughs.
“Thought you wanted to be my toy, huh? Sit so pretty for me and take it? That’s dirty, you know, babe. Toys don’t get to cum.” He pouts at you in faux sympathy, eyes casting down towards you. The leather couch was making you sweat now, his gaze piercing through you.
“Please, Sir. Need it so bad, I’ll be so good. I’ll be quiet.” You whined, hips coming off the couch before Matty’s strong hand pushes you back down. Letting your head fall back, a gasp escapes your mouth again when his hand attaches to your clit.
“You’re greedy. Already came once and begging like a slut for it again.” He presses down on your clit, thrusting into you harder. He does go faster, speeding up his rhythm. Your stomach turns and you know you won’t be able to hold it.
Matty’s hand comes to rest lightly on your throat, pressing his thumb into one of the hickeys. “Cum for me, sweetheart. Let go.”
You do, with a shout so loud Matty doesn’t even bother covering it. He’s too focused on reaching his own release. He speeds up even more, riding you through your orgasm and making you overstimulated. “Fuck, fuck. Good girl. Where can I cum, baby?”
“My mouth.” You say with no hesitation, and he pulls out of you cunt. Matty moves up slightly, and pumps his cock above you. You open your mouth and stick your tongue out, and the visual makes him cum. He throws his head back with a loud moan, letting his cock hit your bottom lip.
You swallow, holding his eye contact. He curses under his breath, picking the camera back up and taking a picture of you like that. Then, one with his thumb pulling on your bottom lip before he wipes the corner of your mouth with it.
You giggle. “You taste good.” You watch him step off the couch, searching for your clothes. He finds your underwear and bra, bringing it back over to you. When he realizes there’s nothing to clean you up with, he leans down and licks your cunt.
You shriek out. “Could say the same about how you taste.” He winks at you, handing you your clothes so you can get dressed. He goes to find his own and do the same. You hide your face in your hands.
“No way you’re shy, you just had my dick inside of you.” He rolls his eyes, throwing his shirt back on. Tone full of amusement and disbelief.
“Doesn’t mean you have to be vulgar.” You joke, strapping back into your leggings. The anxiety about Lexi and his band mates is hitting you now, but there’s no going back. “Thank you.”
He looks over, a wide grin on his face. Matty grabs your shoulders. “No, thank you. Best photoshoot of my career.” He walks over to the door, and you take long strides to catch up with him.
You smooth a hand over your hair and straighten out your clothes. It’s no use though, because when you open up the door and walk into the hall with Matty, they all know.
Lexi and the guys all stood there, knowing smiles on their faces. George even starts laughing when you both walk out. Adam’s head hung with his shoulders shaking, and Ross a smirk on his face.
“Think Matty got the all inclusive session, then?” George says, causing the rest of the group to burst out in laughter. You shrink in on yourself, looking over to see Matty’s grin. Lexi shoots you a look. A timid smile, but her eyes say ‘we’ll talk later.’
Matty giggles, humming. “Mhmm, don’t be jealous.” He shrugs looking between Lexi and you. “Contact us again for another shoot, then? We love your work, and would love to come back.” His eyes go to your face for the last bit, and you nod.
They all say their goodbyes, exchanging handshakes and stares. When they walk out, Matty catches your eye again through the window. Waving, and pulling out a cigarette.
…
Later, when you’re cleaning up the studio, you find a folded piece of paper under the front desk. A 10 digit phone number, a small heart and the words Matty scrawled under it.
#divider cred: @cafekitsune#matty healy x y/n#matty healy x you#matty healy x oc#matty healy blurb#matty healy oneshot#matty healy fluff#matty x reader#matty healy x reader#matty healy smut#matty healy fic#matty healy x fem reader#matty healy x fem!reader#photographer!reader
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an encounter - matty healy
minors dni !! this is 17+ nsfw material !!!
content; you meet a stranger in the bar after your breakup ;)
word count: 3271
warnings: somewhat dubious consent (reader is intoxicated), unsafe sex (wrap it b4 you tap it!!) dom/sub undertones, degradation, teasing. lmk if i missed anything! <3
a/n: hi !!! this is the first fic i'm ever posting!! eek! i dont know how many people are going to see this but please tell me if you like it!!!
It’s not often she spilt her entire life story to a stranger at the bar, but this stranger, with his head of ringlets upon ringlets of messy, dark curls, plush light-pink lips, and deep, chocolate brown eyes, was particularly inviting; charismatic to a fault. It made her want to give him everything, and absentmindedly, in her alcohol-riddled mind, she’d thought he would be a good scammer, or serial killer, whichever he prefers really.
But it's not entirely his fault; she’s stress drinking, downing too many shots in too little a time frame, and the alcohol’s already hit her system ten-fold.
She’s there because she’d broken up with her boyfriend the night before. They’d been dating just short of a year. He was required to travel a lot, mostly in Europe, as per his job, and she let him go each time without qualms - love them, let them go, right?
Wrong. He’d been cheating on her since he went to Australia — four months, now — with a pretty little Sheila that he wanted to marry.
She was furious when he told her, of course, it’s fucking insanity for him to marry someone he’s known for four months, but she began seeing all the differences between her and the woman he cheated on her with: she, a perfect homemaker, her, a distressed professional he saw maybe once a month.
“Hey, hey, don’t beat yourself up,” The soft english voice of the man across the bar cut through the buzz of her hazy, drunken brain, bringing her back to reality. “Cause he’s a right dickhead. For cheating on you like that.”
The man had entered the bar hours after she did, housing a simple drink or two and absently watching the soccer game on the TV above the bar, before she’d drunkenly inched closer to him, desperate to rant her dilemma to just about anyone who’d listen. He bit, and here she was now.
She peered up at the man, inspecting him. He’s gorgeous, definitely, but she can’t tell if she actually thinks that, or her foggy, not-been-fucked-for-months mind just wants him to rail her into next week.
No matter, she thought, downing another shot. It burned the back of her throat sweetly, fire trailing down her insides. “M’not beating myself up,” she protested weakly, “jus’ — m’just… wondering if her cunt was - so much better than mine,”
He laughed, boisterously, the kind of laugh you hear rumble out from a close friend while you detail every wrongdoing or shameful memory in your life: he’s comfortable right now, as is she.
“Well,” he inched closer, large hand setting itself on her thigh and slowly inching upwards, “if it bothers you that much, why not prove it? That your pussy’s as good as you think.”
This wasn’t the first of his attempts to flirt with her: firstly he’d tucked a stray hair away from her face, later he swiped a drop of her Sex On The Beach off her lip, then he’d clutched her by the waist, pulling her close to him when someone squeezed past her in the crowded bar. His brisk touch wasn’t unfamiliar by any means, but it did suggest more than the other ones, especially coupled with the lustful words he was purring in her ear.
Then, there’s a gap in her memory. One too many shots, a stranger toying with the hem of the skirt she’d donned for the bar, and his sweet voice in her ear was too much for her dizzy head, and the only thing she remembers is this: one moment, he’s getting braver, rough fingers ghosting the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, and the next, she’s pressed against a bathroom stall wall, the handsome stranger’s knee knocking her quivering legs apart.
They’re trading wet, sloppy kisses, and his hands are sneakily climbing up her shirt till they reach her chest. There’s a sharp intake of breath from him: “Fuck, sweetheart, no bra? You really were looking for someone to prove you right,” he cooed, touching her breasts needily.
He’s kneading her softly, fingers pawing at her flesh like he’d never felt something so soft, so plump. Her back arches as he does this; she’s practically putty in his hands.
It doesn’t slip past her that she’s being felt up in a bar bathroom by a gorgeous stranger whom she doesn’t know the name of, but she doesn't care. “Please,” she begs, his name coming up completely blank on her tongue, “please.”
“‘Please’ what, honey?” The stranger says huskily, hot breath against her ear as one of his hands moves from her breasts up to her jaw, pushing it to the side to gain access to her neck. “Please kiss me? Finger me? Fuck me?”
She’s too drunk - and fucking horny - to deal with his theatrics, so she whines instead of answering, her weak fingers carding through his dark curls.
“God,” he says, “How long has it been since you’ve been properly fucked? Just some touching and you’re already too fucking dumb to speak.”
His words make her cheeks burn with shame, but it also makes her core throb. The oh-so sweet stranger who listened to her problems all night telling her she’s just a dumb horny bitch is such a juxtaposition it's got her all hot and bothered.
“Please,” she begs again, more desperate than before, “I need you.”
The man let out an incredulous chuckle, head cocking back. “Baby, don’t tell me you like it like that. God, you’re such a fucking whore,” he said, before undoing his belt buckle and fly.
He had noticed how her legs clenched around his knee, how her breathing got sharper as soon as the words “dumb” and “whore” slipped out of his pretty mouth, how her fingers trailed his back needily, desperate for any kind of touch.
She bit her lip, watching the stranger through bleary, hooded eyes. He’d pulled his pants down just enough for his boxer shorts to be visible, before he grabbed her by the waist and turned her to press her face against the wall.
One of his arms then draped across her shoulders, pinning her down and arching her back, hard, making her ass press flush against the large tent in his underwear. She let out a small gasp at the feeling, and she could practically see the smirk curling slyly on his face
He can’t be that big, right? It was just her drunk mind, making him feel bigger than she thought through his shorts. Plus, she hadn’t been fucked in over a month — she was probably just not used to it. .
Because, that’d be totally unfair - he’s beautiful, charming, an amazing kisser, and has a huge cock? No fucking way — if he was all that, he’s definitely a secret terrorist, or something.
However, these days, she’d learned that she didn't have the best intuition. First, with her boyfriend, then again, with the man who just pulled out his thick cock, stroking it gently.
“Oh, fuck,” she cursed, head straining to look at him behind her. Unconsciously, she shyly closed her legs at the sight of him.
“Ah, ah, ah,” the man crooned, his other hand sliding between her legs and spreading them apart once more. “No take backs, honey. You did say you wanted me, did you not?”
Completely flush against each other, she could feel his hard length resting between her legs. Just that, just him between her, already had her trembling in anticipation.
“Then fuck me already,” she bit back, feigning confidence. In actuality, she was thinking: how was all that supposed to fit? And, of all people, her, who hadn’t been stretched out to fit any cock at all, not since last month, when her boyfriend made his routine visit. She was a loyal girl, alright, and her fingers never went as deep as any cock could.
But the moment for her to reveal her worries passed, and he simpered. “So fucking eager.”
Then, his large hands smoothed down the swell of her ass, following the curve, before he lifted his hand up and came down on her cheek, making a loud noise reverberate throughout the empty bathroom.
Her breath caught in her throat, a choked gasp mixed with a tense moan coming out instead, and she flushed. Thank god she was pressed against the cold bathroom stall wall, for it provided a miniscule relief to her burning face.
He’d spanked her, and she’d fucking moaned.
“So you do like it dirty.” he cooed, fingers returning and hooking into the waistband of her panties.
“I bet,” he said, dragging the thin fabric down extremely slow, “that you didn’t come to the bar tonight to just drink,” he pressed closer against her, her folds now sitting right above his thick length, “you came, with no bra and a slutty skirt on, looking to get fucked senseless, didn’t you?”
He slowly slid in and out against her folds, his cock just barely grazing her clit, and she swore she could have screamed. The way he was teasing her was absolutely delectable and, in the same vein, incredibly torturous.
“Answer me, honey.” he hummed, free hand rubbing light circles on the skin of her hip.
She let out an exasperated groan. “I - I came here tonight, to - ah!” she squeaked when the fat tip of the man’s cock poked her tight hole.
“You came here tonight to… what?” He said, nonchalant, as if he wasn’t slowly driving his large dick into her.
“I came here to…” she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to ground her thoughts, and squarely not think about how mouthwateringly good the handsome strangers cock felt, “to get—“
Then, the loudest keen she’d ever heard tore out of her, her eyes rolling into the back of her head, when he suddenly shoved all of his length into her soaking cunt.
He bottomed out with a breathy laugh, watching her knees buckle and mouth hang wide open. Then, once more, his calloused hand came down on her ass, a large crack sounding out within the bathroom.
“Shut the fuck up, whore. Someone’ll hear.” The stranger said, as if he hadn’t just made a loud noise spanking her like that.
But the way he insulted, complimented, mocked and teased all in a few sentences had her shuddering; never in her life did she think such dirty words could make her so wet.
She barely kept in another whine, waves of pleasure ebbing throughout her body. The burning pain of the spank in combination to how her walls squeezed around his cock had her barely coherent, face taut with pleasure.
“Fuck, baby, you’re dripping all over my cock,” he whispered, leaning down for her to hear. As he did so, however, his dick pressed further into her, and another helpless groan rolled off her tongue.
“But you’re too goddamn loud.” The stranger growled, and the arm of the hand that was pressing her against the wall shifted, now covering her mouth.
Before she could protest, he slid out, then snapped into her. Immediately, she saw stars, and a muffled mewl slipped past her lips.
“Jesus christ,” he murmured, “your little pussy’s taking me so well.” He began to slide in and out at a fast, rhythmic pace, so fast she could barely comprehend the ecstasy she was feeling.
“Oh my god,” she barely stuttered out past his large hand. He was pounding in and out of her relentlessly, selfishly, no regard for her moans or helpless whines, merely focussed on thrusting his fat cock into her sweet cunt.
Then, the two heard the bathroom door open, and she froze. The handsome stranger moved quickly, grabbing her by the waist and planting her on his lap as he sat down on the toilet. His other hand, still trained on her mouth, gripped tighter than ever when he felt the groan bubble up from her throat: this new position of her on his lap had his long length pressed right against her cervix.
“Now you really gotta be quiet, baby,” he whispered, pressing his face into her neck. She shut her eyes helplessly, a dejected whimper exiting her mouth.
“Just be fucking quiet. You don’t want everyone in this bar to know what a dirty slut you are, spreading your legs for a fucking stranger in the bathroom, right?” He said, words foul and like poison, but actions completely stark to it: he was pressing sweet, chaste kisses on her shoulder, laying his head on her back.
The man in the other stall was taking so fucking long to finish, and, despite the stranger’s words, he began to slowly rut into her, his large hands coming to rest on her hips and help her slide up and down on his cock.
Her eyes widened. “What are- ah, wh— what are you doing?” she said, a stuttered, hesitant moan leaving her mouth, but she was completely without the motivation to actually stop him: the pleasure she felt earlier had increased immensely in this slower, riskier pace he took on.
“Shh,” was all she saw him say, as she strained her neck to look at him. He looked the epitome of smug, lips curled, cheeks flushed attractively, strands of hair falling down onto his forehead.
Without his hand to muffle her groans, she muffled them herself, biting down on her tongue. One hand of hers gripped onto the stranger's thigh to keep her balance, and her other hand sneakily travelled down to her wet, hot mound, fingers beginning to rub at her clit.
He noticed this, however, hand gripping at her wrist and pulling her back to pin her arm behind her. “Only I get to touch you,” he snarled, “because this fuckin’ pussy’s all mine. Gonna be all mine.”
She let out a shaky exhale at his words, but she found her cunt more flexible than before, the soft slapping of her skin between each other sounding easier, wetter. Jesus, did she really get more turned on by what he’d said?
Finally, the person who had wandered in and entered the stall beside the one the two of them occupied, exited the bathroom entirely, and she belted out a sharp moan with how the stranger swiftly picked her up and pressed her against the wall once more, this time facing him.
He plunged his big cock into her like nothing before, animalistically, nails digging so hard into her hips she swore he drew blood. His pace was stuttered, desperate, like nothing could distract him from pounding into her, not even a fucking meteor.
She, on the other hand, was arching, the pleasure taking her body over completely. Her hands carded through his brown hair, tugging when he hit that particularly spongy spot into her. He groaned, a rough and stuttered thing, feeling himself brush against that spot every time.
Her tight cunt was stretching and contracting around his dick, like she was made with his fat length in mind, and it drove her up the fucking wall: the pain in her hip, the cold linoleum wall, his cock thrusting in and out — it was all so much, and her orgasm began to spill out from under her. It was slow, like water coming out of an overfilled glass.
“You — god, you’re fucking coming, aren’t you,” the stranger said knowingly. Her cunt had gotten tenser, stickier, trying to grip at him like she was afraid he’d never come back to her.
She nodded rapidly, opting to do so in fear an unintelligible string of groans would come out instead of words.
He grinned, and lifted her legs to wrap around his waist, allowing his cock deeper access into her. Her toes curled, the new angle like being impaled, his dick easily slipping past her slick folds.
One of his hands lifted off her hip and trailed across her lower stomach, “Can you feel that, baby? Its my fucking cock, so deep m’gonna shoot my come right in your womb,” he purred, pressing the bulge.
Both were affected, a breathy grunt slipping past his lips, and her a feverish mewl. She couldn’t believe how big he was, large enough for him to be fucking visible on her from the outside.
Suddenly, she remembered the man’s name: he’d said it, offhand, to the bartender before she had dragged him to the bathroom. He asked the bartender to put her drinks on his tab, under the name Matty.
Her face grew taut, her orgasm suddenly switching from a slow, sneaky drip to a hard smack, right across her face. “Matty! Matty, please,” she moaned at last, his name sounding right at home on her tongue.
“Fuck, honey, you remembered? God, that’s so hot,” He whispered sweetly, then dragged her through her orgasm, thick cock pounding in and out of her throbbing core.
It was like all the pleasure had steadily built up within her insides, all up into a big ball, then had suddenly burst, flowing throughout her entire body like she wasn’t already being fucked relentlessly.
“Such a - fuck - tight and pretty pussy,” he said, leaning in to rest his head against her chest. She was weak, sensitively riding out her high, but she knew Matty wasn’t quite as close.
His thrusts began getting sloppier, harsher and focussed merely on feeling her walls against every inch of him. Her head rested beside his own, eyes practically crossing with the overstimulation.
Despite her orgasm, her cunt was still soaking, definitely dripping and marking a wet patch on both her skirt and his pants. It made her tremble, thinking of them both tiredly exiting the bathroom, dishevelled and having to cover the other up.
At this point, she didn’t know what kind of filthy fucking noises were exiting her mouth, with Matty’s grunts and groans covering up her whines completely.
“M’gonna come,” he said a few long moments later, almost inaudible. “Say my name, say who owns this tight fucking pussy.”
“You do! Matty does!” She exclaimed, his cock ripping in and out of her quicker and more jolted. “Matty owns this pussy!”
Matty grinned weakly, and with one final, harried thrust, he let go deep within her. He clenched his jaw, brown eyes shutting tight and losing himself within the warm and wet feeling of her cunt squeezing him for every drop.
You was so fucking full, and even when Matty pulled his softening cock out of her — which, was still huge despite its idleness — she felt stuffed to the brim.
His come dripped down her leg, and he promptly pulled her panties up, patting her worn out cunt as he did so. “You’re taking all my fucking come, so good baby.” he said, pressing a hungry kiss to her neck. “You were right: this cunt’s better than whoever your shit ex cheated on you with.”
“Told you so.” She gazed up at him through heavy-lidded, gleeful eyes. He was an absolute darling sweetheart, it seemed, switching from degradingly fucking her to romantically praising you. “Are you… up for round two?” you said, as he slipped his hand within her own, clasping tightly. She didn’t really mean round two - though, she wouldn’t protest it, especially with his delectable way of fucking her - she actually just wanted to go home with him… see where this relationship could lead her.
“Sweetheart, you don’t have to ask. You’re comin’ home with me tonight,” he saw through her cheekily, pulling her close to him.
So, she did go home with him, and in the morning she laid beside him in the ruffled white sheets, studying the beauty of his face whilst he slept. After that, they made frequent visits to that pub, specifically to the final stall on the left in the mens bathroom.
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