#Truman black | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

abouttofillhisshoes · 2 days

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.

67 notes · View notes

abouttofillhisshoes · 11 days

Text

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.

152 notes · View notes