nothingrevealedeverythingdenied

[nothingrevealedeverythingdenied]

almost, so close, maybe. part one. - matty healy

part one: why is she still here?

a nine to five office job wasn’t exactly how you pictured your life unfolding right after college. but hey, at least you looked good in a pencil skirt, right? really good, if you were to ask a certain head of messy, dark curls.

your office affair wasn’t planned; they never were. you should’ve stopped it. you should’ve cared. or at least felt guilty about it when you sent him home with the taste of you on his tongue.

but you didn’t, you couldn’t, not when his infidelity felt this good.

minors do not interact!

tags: 18+, age gap (25/34), cheating, semipublic/public sex, unprotected sex, choking, hair pulling, degradation

14849 words

Your eyes had been glued to black ink, numbers and the screen of your laptop all morning, not even having enough time to power on the desktop computer sitting on your desk before getting right to work on a task that your boss had given you days to complete yet you still hadn’t found the time to finish. Or rather, have been too preoccupied to finish. 

And it wasn’t your fault, not really. You just got distracted rather easily. But not from the sound of cars honking outside in traffic or the laughter from your coworkers down the hall that would echo off the walls. No, you found yourself getting distracted by dark curls, brown eyes, hot hands. 

Bad enough that if you thought about any of the three of them now for even a second longer, you were liable to stand up from your desk, go to his office across the hall and allow him to distract you now. 

You might be able to wrap your head around these numbers a little better if you could wrap yourself around him first. 

You shake the thought as soon as it forms in your head. Your boss had already been in your office twice today to check on how the project he had assigned you was going and you didn’t want to see him a third. You needed to get this finished already so you could get him off of your back and then you’d have all the free time in the world to go across the hall and get distracted by dark curls, brown eyes, hot hands over and over again. 

And that gave you all the motivation you needed. 

You raise your arms above your head to stretch them out, cracking your neck in the process before diving back into the workload in front of you. 

You had just rested your fingers on the keyboard of your laptop when you heard three knocks against the frame of your office door that had been left open by your boss, Thomas, the last time he had come in here to check on your progress. Or rather, lack thereof. 

You sigh, heavy and full of frustration, ready to scream at whoever was interrupting you. You were running on a tight deadline here. You didn’t need someone coming in here and wasting your valuable time, you didn’t feel like getting yelled at by Thomas today. 

You were about to tell the person to leave you alone, to come back later, that you really needed to get this done. It was on the tip of your tongue. Though, when you glanced over the screen of your laptop to take a look at who the knock belonged to, you knew there was no chance in hell that your work was ever getting finished on time when you made eye contact with an all too familiar dark, heated gaze staring back at you. 

Dark curls, brown eyes, hot hands. Matty. Otherwise known as what had been keeping you preoccupied and distracted for the past seven months. Right on cue, almost as though you had summoned him. 

Matty looked as powerful as ever leaned up against the doorframe of your office. His impossibly long legs crossed over one another with arms to match and a lazy smirk spread over his cleanly shaven face as his dark eyes slowly roamed over what he could see of your body behind the desk you were sitting at. 

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you sit up straighter, subtly pushing your chest out and fighting off a smirk of your own when his eyes linger on your cleavage so long that the skin started to burn from his gaze. 

You cross your arms and rest them on the edge of your desk, leaning forward enough to give him a better view of the area that his eyes were already glued to, tilting your head to the side and asking as innocent as ever, “Can I help you?”

Matty was silent, didn’t even say a single word, a smirk twitching at his lips as he took his time checking out the rest of your body until he was satisfied. Your heart skips a beat when his dark eyes land on your own again, pounding now as you watch his left eye fall into a wink. Matty tilts his head to the right ever so slightly before pushing himself off of your doorframe and walking away in the direction his head had signaled toward.  

Matty hadn’t spoken, but the silent command was heard loud and clear, to follow him. 

And yes, you were busy. Yes, you really needed to finish this project for Thomas. No, you shouldn’t be letting Matty distract you, again. But Matty was too far gone now to tell him that you didn’t have the time, not that you would have even if he had lingered. 

Matty’s legs were long, he walked fast and if you didn’t get up right now you might not be able to follow him to wherever he was taking you this time. And while you knew this was a bad idea, you glanced down at your laptop screen for all of two seconds before sighing and closing the lid shut, standing up from your desk so quickly that you made yourself dizzy to follow him.

You follow Matty blindly, far away enough as to not grow any suspicion. Down the hall, to the right, taking a sharp left and oh, you’ve lost him. 

You stand in the middle of the corridor, turning your head every which way in an attempt to spot the familiar head of curls, his name on the tip of your tongue about to call out in hopes that he’d reveal himself. Matty’s name fades into some form of yelp at the feeling of someone grabbing onto your wrist and pulling you into a dark, cramped space. 

For a split second you considered yelling for help, but as soon as the door clicked shut, an all too familiar pair of lips crashed against your own in a heated kiss that muffled any attempt to. 

You melt against him almost immediately in a kiss that was really more teeth than tongue, finding it hard to keep up with the pace of it all. You always felt one step behind Matty when he kissed you like this, crowding you against the wall of shelving so forcefully that it knocked a few items down to the floor as his hands ran hungrily, greedily all over your body. 

Matty was all over you in a way that was sure to have his expensive cologne clinging to the blouse you were wearing that he wasted no time in unbuttoning. He was practically ripping it open to get his hands on your tits and if his tongue wasn’t halfway down your throat, you might have scolded him for almost ruining your favorite top. His favorite top. You were sure that wearing it today was what led to all of this, the culprit for why he was kissing you, touching you so desperately right now. 

That, or maybe the skirt that was almost too short to be deemed appropriate for work. You weren’t quite sure, only time would tell. 

You wrap your arms around Matty's neck, threading your fingers through his grey-streaked curls, moaning into his mouth when his thumb rolls over a peaked bud, already so drunk on the feeling of his hands all over you that you almost completely missed the command mumbled against your lips. Matty pinches your nipple in retaliation and you gasp at the feeling, something he swallows before digging his teeth into your bottom lip and pulling back until it pops back in place. 

“Turn around.” Matty repeats himself in a gruff voice that conveyed what little patience he felt right now, his hands already at your hips to turn you around himself without even giving you the time to do it on your own, your stomach flips at the way he was manhandling you. 

You grip onto the shelf in front of you as a way to stop yourself from stumbling over from the forceful way Matty had turned you around, gasping at the feeling of Matty pressing himself against you from behind. Already hard, already desperate, just how you liked him. 

Matty pushes your hair off to one side of your shoulder with one hand as his other runs along your backside, over the smooth material of your skirt and all the way to your hip just so he could pull you back against him, grinding against your covered core in a way that had you feeling rather dizzy.

“Matty.” You sigh, trying to keep your voice down, swallowing down a moan at the feeling of him grinding against you again. 

Matty’s hand that wasn’t on your hip wraps around your shoulder so he could grip your chin and pull your head back to rest on his shoulder, digging his fingers into your hip and chin as he licks the shell of your ear before whispering hot and gruff into it. 

“You feel me?” His voice shoots straight down to your core. His teeth nibble on your earlobe and you grip the shelf a little tighter as your knees already start to grow weaker. “Yeah? You feel how fucking crazy you’ve been making me all day?”

You nod with a pounding heart, already breathless, arching your back to press against him in hopes that it would make him fuck you faster. You were very impatient, Matty knew this, he thrived on it.  

“You think I didn’t notice the way you pulled your little skirt up higher before walking into my office to borrow a pen?” Matty emphasizes the words by using the grip he had on your chin to toss your head back forward, your body with it, making you more than grateful for the grip you had on the shelf. Matty runs his hands over your backside, quick to slip under your skirt and push it up your waist, the cool air has goosebumps rising on your skin. “Bending over the copy machine just to flash me, teasing me all fucking day. You feeling quite proud of yourself?” 

And while you knew you were in no position to act like a brat, how could you not when Matty had perfectly set you up for it? 

You grin even though Matty couldn’t see it, you were sure he could sense it by the way his blunt fingernails dig into the flesh near the waistband of your thong. You nod, grinding back against him, shameless. 

Matty tsks, bringing an immediate, sharp hand down to slap your ass. And while you should have expected it, you still gasp rather loudly at the sting, turning your head to the side so you could dig your teeth into the inside of your arm to keep yourself quiet. 

“Fucking brat.” Matty grumbles, delivering another sharp, quick smack to the other side to even it out. You were more prepared for it this time around yet your body still jolts forwards from the force of it all, your teeth digging into the flesh of your arm as a gasp melts into the skin. 

Matty soothes the flesh that has already started to redden from the slap with one hand while the other slides down between your legs to slip your thong to the side. The feeling of the cool air against your throbbing core makes it clench. You bite down on your arm to mask a gasp from the feeling of Matty running two fingers through your core, perfectly avoiding your bundle of nerves, surely on purpose.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so fucking wet already and I’ve barely even touched you.” Matty coos and you whimper into your arm from the way the pet name shoots down to your core. A sentiment only said in times like this, in a dark, secluded room with no one else around to hear it. But god, did it make you feel alive every single time he called you it. “Needy little thing.”

And if you weren’t already so dizzy from the desperation swimming through your veins, you would have reminded him that he was the one who pulled you into this closet, he was the one being needy. 

But almost as if he knew what you were about to say, Matty lined his two fingers up at your entrance and you selfishly pushed back against them, greedy and hopeful that if you did it well enough that it’d draw them inside of you. 

The action perfectly proved his point and you didn’t even have to see him to know that he was smirking at the sight.

You wanted to wipe that smirk right off of his face, or rather, kiss it off. Or maybe you could turn around, push him to the floor and sit on top of it while he-

“You know,” Matty trails off, pulling you from your daydream, his hands gone from you altogether now and you would have protested the loss if you didn’t hear his belt being undone. The sound of his belt clanking has your empty, clothed core clenching, your back arching in anticipation. “You don’t have to hike up your skirt and slut yourself out to the whole office floor to get what you want.” Matty speaks through a hiss that tells you that he’s got a hand wrapped around his length, surely pumping himself in a way that has jealousy swimming through your veins. Even if you couldn’t touch him yourself, you wished that you could at least see him doing it. “If you wanted me to fuck you, you could have just asked.”

You bite down on the inside of your arm a little harder to keep your moans at bay from the feeling of him rubbing his tip through you, teasing you. Surely a way to get you back for the way you had been teasing him all day with the skirt that was now bunched around your waist.  

You were about to go down a rabbit hole of begging, knowing that’s typically what he made you do when he got in moods like this, wanting to stretch a hide away quickie out a little longer. 

But then you remembered what he said, that all you had to do was ask, and that made you realize that maybe you didn’t have to beg so much for it after all.

You take your mouth off of the inside of your arm and grimace at the sight of teeth marks left behind, hopeful that the sleeve of your shirt would cover them so nobody around the office would ask any questions about how they got there. 

You swallow down a dry throat, mentally cursing the fact that you couldn’t use your eyes to persuade him like usual considering he had you turned around and bent over, he could never say no to you when you were batting your lashes up at him. But you were hopeful that your breathy voice would be enough as you opened your mouth to beg. 

“Please fuck me, I-I want you so bad.” You fight to keep your voice down, just loud enough for him to hear, swallowing down a moan at the feeling of Matty lining himself up but not yet pushing in. “Please, Matty, I-I’ll be good.”

“Good?” Matty scoffs, yet he starts to push inside of you anyway, ever so slowly. Your mouth drops open further with each and every inch you gain, already having to grip onto the shelf you were holding for support before he was even fully inside of you yet. “I know I usually fuck you dumb, baby, but I’ve barely even got my cock in you.” Matty coos. “Surely you can’t already be fucked out enough to believe that.”

Matty pushes in to the hilt and you gasp at how full you felt, you anticipate him to start fucking into you at any second now, thinking that maybe Matty was just giving you a second to catch your breath before knocking it back out of your lungs. 

You grew impatient rather quickly, shamelessly pushing yourself back against him just to feel something, anything. Matty’s hands were quick to take hold of your hips and halt any further movement, digging blunt fingernails into the flesh and sure to leave crescent moons behind. 

“I’m always good.” You fight back, though the two of you knew that was a lie and before Matty could call you out on it, you were correcting yourself for him. “I can be good.”

“Yeah?” Matty baits, his voice full of a condescending tone that already had you clenching around him. “Prove it.”

And before you could even ask him how he wanted you to do that, he was pulling back just far enough for you to whine at the loss of him before snapping his hips back into you so hard that it nearly knocked you straight into the shelf. You gasp at the suddenness, one that bleeds into a long drawn out moan when he doesn't stop there, quick to find a rhythm that already has you on the verge of drooling. 

“Be quiet.” Matty groans through a gruff voice, thick and low. 

You nod, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth to try and hide a whimper as your eyes roll back from the pleasure that was blooming through you with each passing thrust, nearly impossible to keep yourself quiet when he was fucking you like this. 

“Baby.” Matty groans the pet name out like a warning, clueing you in to the fact that biting your lip was doing little to nothing to hide the way you were moaning. “Be good.”

Matty uses the leverage he had with his hands on your hips to pull you back against him so you could meet his thrusts, only pulling a louder moan out of you at how deeply he was fucking into you. Matty’s hand is quick to come around and cover the sound, his palm pressed firmly over your mouth in an attempt to shut you up so nobody would hear you. 

“Gotta be quiet for me, baby.” Matty reminds in a voice much deeper than before, yet ironically kept fucking you in a way that made it impossible to obey, moan after whine after whimper melting against the palm of his hand as he fucked you senseless. “You want the whole office to hear how good I fuck you?” 

And while yes, you would love for all the women in this office to hear how good he was fucking you, for them to even know that he was fucking you at all. But it didn’t matter because the one girl that it actually mattered to, the one girl who desperately needed to know, didn’t even work here. 

The only way she would ever find out is if you were to tell her and well… you hadn’t. 

You were terrified of the consequences. 

Would it finally send Matty straight into your arms or would you never see him again? 

You shake the thought from your head and Matty takes that as a good enough answer to the question you had forgotten he’d even asked.

“No?” Matty coos, that condescending tone back in his voice. “Then be a good girl and keep that pretty mouth of yours shut, don't get us caught.”

Because that would be altogether humiliating, wouldn’t it? For a coworker, or god forbid your boss, to hear commotion happening in the supply closet and open the door to see you bent over and holding onto a shelf full of office supplies for support while Matty fucks you relentlessly with his hand pressed over your mouth. 

And while you shouldn’t fantasize about being caught, you couldn’t help but moan behind Matty’s hand at the idea of it. You clench around him at the thought of someone realizing the two of you were missing from your offices and come searching for you, only to find you breathless and drooling, sure that it was soaking into the palm of Matty’s hand that pressed down over your mouth harder when he feels the vibration of you moaning against it. 

“Filthy fucking girl.” Matty groans, almost as if he could hear your thoughts. The shelf you were holding onto creaks as Matty fucks into you deep, hard, the kind of rhythm that has your head feeling rather dizzy. “God, baby, you’re so fucking tight.” Matty hisses, pinching your hip in some form of punishment when you clench around him tighter at the claim. “Fuck, any of those men out there would kill to have a pretty little thing like you purring underneath them, you’re a fucking dream.”

And for a split second, you almost felt special. As if you were some prize to be won. If he could see how badly every other man in the office wanted you then maybe it’d make him want you, even if it was just a little bit more than just a quick hookup in a cramped closet towards the back corner of the office floor. 

You preen at his words, licking over his palm that covered your mouth and arching your back a little more to bring him in deeper, your eyes rolling back at the new angle. 

“I see the way they watch when you walk by, breaking their fucking necks just to try and get a good look at you.” You didn’t even have to look at him to know that he was speaking through a clenched jaw, the way his blunt fingernails dug harshly into your hip as he fucked you impossibly harder told you as much. “Makes me want to bend you over in front of all of them and show them who you fucking belong to.”

And if you didn’t love it so much, if you weren’t so drunk on pleasure and desperate for a release, you would have laughed at the irony of him being so possessive over you. Of him being so jealous over all the attention you got from the other men around the office as if he didn’t go home to her every- 

No. 

You refused to think about her right now, not while he was inside of you, not after he had just given you a shred of hope that maybe you did belong to him after all - something you’ve known since the day you met him but that’s beside the point. 

You clench around him, moaning against his palm, heat mixed pleasure climbing up your spine.

“And who do you belong to, sweet girl?” Matty coos through quick snaps of his hips and you could practically hear the smirk plastered to his face as he spoke. He trades the palm of his hand out for two of his fingers shoved in your mouth instead and you were quick to suck around them, Matty groans at the feeling. “C’mon, baby, tell me who you wore this little skirt for.”

“You.” You slur around his digits, moaning when he fixed you with a particularly hard thrust that had your eyes rolling back, your teeth biting around his fingers.  

“Me?” Matty emphasizes in faux shock, curling his fingers down meanly on your tongue to emphasize. “Are you sure about that?”

You were nodding before he could even finish asking, the pleasure thrumming through your veins made it nearly impossible to feel any shame as Matty pulled the two fingers free from your tongue to trail between your thighs that trembled in his path. 

Matty takes his other hand off of your hip in favor of bringing it up to cover your mouth just in time to catch a pitiful whimper that melts off your tongue from the feeling of two of his calloused fingertips rubbing slow, torturous circles over your swollen bundle of nerves.

You thought it was a silly question for him to ask, who did you wear this skirt for? Of course you wore it for him. You always picked your outfits based around him, on what you thought might grab his attention that day. Whether that be a tight blouse with one too many buttons undone or a certain pair of heels that he always made you keep on while throwing your legs over his shoulders or an already short pencil skirt that you dared to pull up even higher when he was around. 

You craved his attention, his desperation for you and you would do or wear anything to achieve that. He knew this, he wasn’t dumb, yet he fell for it every time anyway. 

“Hm.” Matty hums, fixing you with a particularly hard thrust that had you white knuckling the shelf in front of you, a whimper melting against his palm. “Sure didn’t seem that way earlier in the copy room.” 

You try to wrack your brain for what he could possibly be talking about, fighting through all the dizziness and hazy minded feelings his thrusts and swirled fingertips were fixing you with to try and recall what had happened in the copy room earlier. 

You shake your head softly, a way to signal to him that you had no clue what he was talking about since you had no way to tell him verbally with his hand pressed tightly over your mouth. Lucky for you, Matty is quick to fill you in. 

“Well, I just figured you wore it for that little boy of yours with the way you bent over the copier in front of him this morning.” The jealousy seeps off of Matty’s tongue and your core clenches at the sound, like music to your ears. 

You loved when he got like this, jealous, it made you feel wanted. 

And you knew exactly who Matty was referring to, Luke. 

A boy that was around your own age, much closer to it than Matty was, with light brown hair and hazel eyes to match. He was cute, in theory, just not necessarily your type. You were more into older men with dark, grey-streaked curls and tattoos who weren’t available. 

You were more than aware of the fact that Luke had a little crush on you. Well, that’s what the rumor around the office was anyway. You didn't necessarily know if it was true or not, but you liked the way it made Matty’s skin crawl regardless. 

Again, ironic.

You shake your head more forcefully this time, enough that Matty slowed down the rhythm of his hips to lower the chance of you moaning before lifting his palm off of your mouth so you could speak. 

You gasp in a deeper breath and swallow the drool that threatens to drip down your chin before clenching around him to emphasize, “I did that for you.”

“For me?” Matty coos and you didn’t even have to face him to know that he was sporting a pout on his pretty pink lips that you desperately wished were on your own. Matty’s hand that had been pressed over your mouth comes around to fist the bottom of your hair, twisting it around to get a good grip on it. Matty tsks. “Aw, baby, you shouldn’t have.”

Matty snaps his hips forward hard enough to make the shelf you were holding onto shake, quick to return to the mind numbing rhythm he had been fucking you with before. Your face screwed in pleasure and the pain from the feeling of Matty’s hand fisted in your hair yanking on it rather harshly to pull you up and make you stand up straighter, your back pressed against his chest as he fucks you sensless. 

“You really, really shouldn’t have.” Matty’s voice shoots directly into your ear now in this position, the words swim down to your throbbing core and you couldn’t help but clench around him. 

Matty hisses in your ear at the feeling, tightening the grip he had on your hair. Your eyes roll back at the new angle he was fucking you with, moan after whine after whimper tumbling from your mouth as his lips press to the side of your neck from behind, careful not to leave any marks behind.

“Matty.” You whimper his name, quick to bite your lip to try and mask the sound but it was no use when Matty was already knocking it loose with a sharp tug at your hair that only arched your back further and made him fuck into you impossibly deeper. A long, drawn out moan tumbled from your lips, one that you hoped nobody could hear. “Oh, god.”

“Fuck.” Matty groans, deep and breathless, quick to dig his teeth into the curve of your shoulder to try and mask the sound of his own moans that had already crawled up your spine and driven you crazy. “That’s it, taking me so well- fuck.” His teeth graze over your pulse point as a moan falls from his swollen lips and melts against your burning skin. “Always so fucking good for me.”

“See? I- fuck, I told you I could be good.” You practically beam, a lazy smile spread on your face while Matty grips your hair, swirls his fingers, snaps his hips. 

Matty laughs through a breathless moan, tugging on your hair a little tighter to bend your neck back more, your eyes rolling up toward the ceiling at the new angle. The back of your head rests against his shoulder, his lips trail open mouth kisses up the side of your neck before nibbling on your ear lobe and whispering hotly into it. 

“What’d I tell you? You get fucking delusional when you’re drunk on my cock.” Matty licks over the shell of your ear. “You’ve only been good so far because I’ve made you be.” 

You whine and Matty smiles against your neck at the sound, as if you were proving his point. 

“You wanna prove it to me?” Matty mumbles into your ear, tugging on your earring with his teeth in a way that makes you clench around him. “Fuck.” Matty groans and it shoots straight down to your core. “Be fucking quiet all on your own, then I’ll call you a good girl.”

The words were barely even off of his tongue before Matty doubles his efforts over you, fucking into you faster, swirling his fingers in tighter circles. You felt as though you were drooling, maybe you were, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Not when he was fucking you like this, making it nearly impossible to keep yourself quiet. 

Your mouth drops open in a long, drawn out, broken moan that rips from your throat. So loud that you quickly take one of your hands off of the shelf to cover your own mouth this time. 

Matty pauses the sloppy, open mouth kisses he was trailing along the expanse of your neck to dig his teeth into the curve of it, his words melting against the skin there as he mumbles against it. “No ma'am, no cheating.” 

You whine behind your palm one last time before you remove your trembling hand from your mouth, squeezing your eyes shut tightly in an attempt to focus on keeping your moans at bay while Matty seems hell bent on pulling them out of you. 

It was almost as if he wanted to get caught, as if he wanted somebody to open the door and see him fucking you from behind with his fist in your hair and his hand between your thighs. 

He had grown more and more careless with each passing month the two of you tacked onto this… situationship. 

Like the time he forgot to lock his office door while your knees were pressed to the carpet and your eyes were brimmed with tears from the way he was fucking down your throat. Thankfully the person had the decency to knock first, giving you just enough time to crawl under his desk before the intruder caught the two of you in the act. You couldn’t imagine how shocked that person might be to know that you and your mouth were the reason that Matty kept stuttering through their conversation.

Or the time Matty nearly went home with a stain from your lipgloss on the collar of his shirt. How lucky you had been to catch sight of it as he walked you to your car when your shift was over. How he had to lie and say that he had to work an hour past his shift just so he’d have enough time to stop and buy a new shirt on his way home. 

But that wasn’t nearly as bad as the time you got a little carried away kissing his neck while riding his thigh in the back of his car on a lunch break, only to pull off when all was said and done to find out that you had left a hickey behind. 

And okay, maybe that one was your fault. But in your defense, he didn’t make any attempt to stop you from leaving it in the first place. In fact, if you remember correctly, he had even turned his head to the side to give you more room to do so. 

So maybe that one was both of your faults, but you couldn’t deny how thrilling it was to cover it up for him with your own makeup every day until it faded back to nothing.  

“Matty.” His name drips from your tongue in a breathless moan that has him releasing the grip he had on the base of your hair in favor of throwing his arm around your chest and wrapping his hand around your throat, not even squeezing, just holding it there as a reminder of what he could do. “I-I can’t.”

“You can.” Matty mumbles the promise into your neck, licking a thick strip up the side of it until he reaches your ear to hiss inside of it. “You will.” Matty tugs on your earring with his teeth as he tightens the possessive hand around your neck, not enough to cut off your airflow but enough for you to feel it. “C’mon, baby, show me that my good little girl is still in there somewhere.”

And you’d be damned if that didn’t make you want to prove yourself, to show him that you could give him everything he ever wanted if he would just give you the opportunity to. 

You whimper, eyes brimming with tears that were becoming harder and harder to blink away with each passing swirl of his calloused fingertips over your swollen clit. You felt as though your brain was melting out of your ears as his hips snapped into you, fast and punishing, driving you into the shelf with every thrust. 

“Fuck, you sound even prettier when you’re trying to be quiet.” Matty groans, his teeth grazing over your pulse point enough to make your spine tingle before digging his teeth into the flesh to emphasize. “Makes me want to fucking ruin you more.” 

Matty squeezed your neck a little tighter and you were biting your lip so hard that you could faintly taste metal in your mouth as you desperately tried to prove yourself worthy to him. 

You were too drunk on the heat swirling in your stomach to feel embarrassed by the need to do so, too high on pleasure to realize that it didn’t matter what you did, it would never be enough for him. 

Matty holds your head back against his shoulder with a hand wrapped around your throat, keeping you steady and holding the dead weight of your body up as he fucks into you from behind. 

You were so close that you could taste it, the mind numbing feeling of his calloused fingertips swirling tight figure eights over your clit was quickly hurdling you closer and closer to the edge. 

Matty licks a strip up the side of your neck, hot and fast, matching the rhythm of his hips. He licks the shell of your ear, nibbles on the lobe and tugs at your earring with his teeth before whispering in your ear in a deep, raspy tone that shoots down straight to your core. 

“I know you’re close.” You couldn’t help the faint blush that graces your cheeks from how well he knew your body, how well he knew you. And if Matty were to ever ask about the rosy color, you’d blame it on the heat from the cramped supply closet. “You want to cum for me, sweet girl?”

You stare up at the ceiling with half lidded, glazed over eyes, nodding as best as you could in the compromising position he had you in. 

“Yeah?” And really, you should have known by the condescending edge to his tone that he was about to make you beg for it. “You think you deserve to?” 

Matty licks over the shell of your ear as soon as the question leaves his tongue, panting into your ear as he fucks you hard enough to rattle the shelf you were holding onto for support, knocking a stapler off of the edge to clatter to the ground. 

You clench around him at the sound that echoes off the walls of the tiny space of the supply closet, the fantasy of being caught swirling in your mind once more. And even though it felt like you were walking into a trap, you continued to nod desperately, unsure of how much longer you could stave off the heat climbing up your spine. 

“Even after that little show you put on in the copy room this morning?” You can nearly hear the faux pout in his condescending tone as he delivers a particularly hard thrust to emphasize his words. “You weren’t being very good.”

“I- fuck, Matty.” You cut yourself off to moan, your body growing more and more limp against his chest the closer and closer you got to a release. “I already told you, I did that for you.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Matty decides, practically growling against your pulse point as he tightens his grip on your neck. “We weren’t alone.” And it’s not like you knew that when you bent over the copier, you hadn’t seen Luke walk into the room, your back was turned away from the door. It was an accident, honest, even if Matty didn’t see it that way. “You should have checked before bending over and showing off something that only I should be seeing.”

And if you weren’t currently drooling from pleasure, you might have quipped back about how unfair it was for him to be so possessive over you, for him to claim that you belonged to him when he didn’t belong to you. 

And suddenly the reason why he didn’t belong to you, why he couldn’t belong to you, flashes in your mind. An all too familiar head of blonde hair with a perfect smile, you were quick to squeeze your eyes shut in an attempt to drown out the image of the girl by focusing on the pleasure blooming through you instead. 

The way his fingers swirled around your clit, the way his lips slid against your neck, the way his hips snap against your own. 

You didn’t want to think about her, not now, not when Matty was fucking you like this. 

Not when he was acting this way over some boy who didn’t even matter. And while you should have called him out on his hypocrisy, you couldn’t help but allow his jealousy to make you feel alive. 

Because if he was jealous, even just a little bit, over Luke then surely that meant that he had to have real feelings for you deep down inside of him. 

Somewhere. 

You’d dig your nails into his back and claw your way through layers and layers of skin until you found them. 

So you fight to forget about her, for now. You could at least wait until he pulls out of you to allow the guilt to consume you, to eat you alive. 

“Are you sorry?” Matty nips at your ear lobe, breathing a broken moan into your ear that swims down to your core. “Tell me you're sorry for acting like a slut and I’ll let you cum, baby girl.”

And even though your throbbing core clenches at the degrading title, you couldn’t help but feel the need to defend yourself, terrified that he’d never deem you worthy of all his time if he thought you’d rather be spending it with someone else. 

Pitiful. You were more than aware. 

“I wasn’t-“ And that’s about as far into your defense case as you got before Matty was tightening the grip he had on your neck once more, his fingers pressed tightly against your windpipe to effectively cut you off. 

“Tell me.” He all but growls into your ear, delivering a particularly hard thrust that knocks what little air you had left out of your lungs. 

Your eyes roll, but not from pleasure this time, from the sick and twisted irony of it all. 

The fact that Matty was throwing such a word in your face when he was the slut for fucking you like this even though he had a- 

No, the fact that he was asking you to apologize for bending over a copy machine in front of a boy, acting all possessive and crazy as if he didn’t go home to-

No, the fact that he had made you say that you belonged to him earlier as if he didn’t know how badly that killed you inside to be reminded that you did belong to him, but only some of the time. 

Only when she wasn’t around. 

It should be him apologizing for the way he’s been stringing you along for the past seven months.

He should be apologizing to you.

To her.

And there it goes again, the image of the girl with blonde hair and the perfect smile. Your stomach rolls with a sick mixture of nausea and pleasure as you come to the pitiful realization that maybe you did have something to apologize for after all, even if it’s not in the way Matty was asking you to. 

Matty loosens the tight grip he had on your neck, enough for you to gasp in a breath and as soon as the air reached down to your lungs, the apology was spilling out of you before you could even think twice about it.  

“Fuck, ‘m sorry.” You apologize through a moan, your bottom lip trembling as you fight off the tears that threatened to pool in your eyes, but not from pleasure this time. You blink them away, desperate to not let them fall. Not yet, you tell yourself, not until he had left the room. Always first, always fast. You try to shake the image of the girl with blonde hair from your mind by focusing on the heat that swirled in your stomach in tune with his fingers instead. The way it climbed up your spine and throat, begging to be released. You whimper. “Please, I’m sorry.”

A wicked grin spreads across his face at the sound, you could feel it against your neck as his hips snap against your own with fever now, knocking a stack of post-it notes off the shelf to flutter to the ground from the force of it all as his fingers swirl heavenly circles over your swollen clit. 

You whine, whimper and white knuckle the shelf in front of you as the white hot pleasure blazes through you, lighting your body on fire from the inside out.

“God, you sound so fucking pretty begging for it, ‘m losing my mind.” Matty groans, his lips sliding along the expanse of your neck through messy kisses that run a chill up your spine. “Always such a good girl for me, isn’t that right, baby?” And you practically preen at the praise, even if it wasn’t properly earned, you hadn’t been quiet for him at all. But that didn’t stop him from grazing his teeth over your pulse point before mumbling against your neck words that you had only dreamed of hearing him say to you. “My best girl.”

And you nearly fell apart on him right then and there, your throbbing core clenched tightly around him as you fight to wait for his permission. You hated the way your heart fluttered in your chest at the three words, hated the way they gave you some form of hope that maybe he actually wanted you past a quick, quiet, hidden hookup in the supply closet at the job you shared. 

Matty didn’t let you dwell in the moment for too long.

“Fuck.” Matty groans, pulling out of you just long enough for you to whine at the loss of him. 

Matty uses the tight grip he had on your neck to turn your body around and slam you back against the shelf full of office supplies in a similar way to how he had when he first pulled you into the closet to begin with. Miscellaneous items tumble onto the floor from the force of it all and you cringe at the noise that echoes alongside it. 

Your back had barely hit the shelf before Matty was dropping his hand from your neck in favor of bringing it down to your thigh to lift it up around his waist. You were quick to wrap your leg around him, digging a heel into his back as he slid back inside of you with ease, barely giving you enough time to miss the feeling of him before he was fucking into you again, his calloused fingertips quick to find home at your swollen clit once more. 

“Wanna see you fall apart on my cock.” Matty groans out his reasoning for the change in position and you couldn’t find it in yourself to argue, you loved him like this, this was your favorite position that he fucked you in. 

Because even though he could fuck you deeper, filthier any other way, you always preferred a position where you could see him. Where you could stare at him freely and he wouldn’t think twice about it. Where you could study his beautiful features to be remembered for when your hand was between your thighs on nights you spent alone in bed while he had someone sleeping on his chest. 

“Fuck, baby, you feel so fucking good.” Matty tosses his head back in a deep, guttural groan and you nearly fell apart right there just from the sight of him after being deprived of it for so long. 

His blown out eyes, the flush of his cheeks, the strands of curls stuck to his forehead from the sweat that had collected there. He looked like a God like this, all powerful and beautiful and you wanted nothing more than to fall to your knees and worship him.

You had. 

You wrap your arms around his neck and thread your fingers through his sweaty, grey-streaked curls. You give the strands a soft tug that he groans at, his thick eyebrows coming together as he fights to keep himself quiet now, chasing his own release as he doubles his efforts over you. 

You stare up at him with half lidded eyes that threaten to flutter shut from the new angle he was fucking you in now, fighting to keep them open because you wanted to memorize every which way that his face crumbled in pleasure as he fucked into you. 

You wanted to relish in this moment, knowing your time spent with the man was limited. 

The longer you stared at the older man, the harder it became for you to ignore the heat climbing up your spine, twisting in your stomach, consuming you. You were so desperate for your own release that you would have done anything for him to send you over the edge, but not without his permission first. 

You’d rather die than disappoint the man.  

Ironic, considering that’s all Matty had been making you feel for the past seven months, disappointed. 

You're quick to shake the thought from your head. Not yet, you remind yourself, soon.

“Mat- fuck, Matty, I’m so fucking close.” You whine with glazed over eyes and flushed cheeks, so close to a release that you could taste it. “Please, can I-“

“Cum for me, baby girl.” Matty’s gruff voice cuts you off to give you the permission that you had so desperately been waiting for. “But you better do it quietly unless you want the whole office floor to hear how good I fuck my girl.”

Your eyes roll back at his words, your core clenching tightly around him, your fingers tugging meanly on his curls. To hell with the spiral about if Matty actually meant the words spoken during sex, if there was a deeper meaning behind him calling you his best girl, his girl. Or if they were just a way to have you falling apart on him faster. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to think about any of that when the pleasure mixed heat was swirling up from your toes, crawling up your spine and settling in your stomach before crashing into you in a way that had your entire body trembling, quick to cover your own mouth to hide the moans and whimpers that tumbled freely against your palm in fear that the whole entire office might actually hear you if it wasn’t for you muffling them. 

“That’s it, baby.” Matty coos, fucking you through your high, his own hips stuttering at the feeling of your core clenching and throbbing around him as you fall apart underneath him. “Good fucking girl, so fucking pretty when you cum.”

You preen at the compliment, at the pet names, feeling rather dizzy as they swim through your mind on a constant loop as the aftershocks of your orgasm roll through you. Your leg trembles around him as you hoped and prayed that maybe if you clench around him tight enough that he’ll have to stay here forever, finally giving you what you so desperately wanted. 

Matty reaches the hand that had been digging into your thigh out to hold onto the metal bars of the shelf you were crowded against for some form of support as his hips falter, his breath hitches. And just when you expect him to bury himself deep and spill inside of you, he pulls out, like he always did. You couldn’t help the way your shoulders slump in disappointment from the sudden loss of him. 

Maybe next time. 

Matty uses the hand that had been between your thighs to pump himself quickly, so close to the edge that he doesn’t even bother with any form of rhythm or pace, just desperate for release after holding himself off for so long. You were two seconds away from swatting his hand away and taking over to finish him off yourself, but just when you started to reach out for him, Matty tosses his head back in a deep, guttural groan that was poorly hidden by a bite of his lip as he spills thick and hot all over his hand. 

Your stomach swoops at the sight, your eyes unable to choose between watching Matty’s face crumble or his fist being painted by what you craved most, you never thought you’d be so jealous of a hand before now.

Matty’s hand slows on his length, running lazily alongside it as he comes down from his high, hissing when he thumbs his tip before pulling off with one last moan. You were unable to stop yourself from reaching out to take hold of his hand, bringing it up to your mouth before his body was even finished trembling first.

You stare up at the panting man with eyes innocent enough as you slowly stick your tongue out and begin the process of cleaning the cum off of his hand, nearly moaning when your tongue swirls around his coated fingers and you taste yourself in the mix. 

“Fuck me.” Matty groans at the sight of you, squeezing his eyes shut after you shoot him a filthy image of his load all over your tongue before you swallow it all with a smile. When Matty reopens his eyes, they’re just as blown out as before, glued to your mouth and in a daze as his thumb comes up to run along the expanse of your bottom lip. “Filthy little thing, you’re gonna kill me one day.”

“Well,” You trail off, carding your fingers through his grey-streaked curls sweetly before tugging on the strands wrapped around your digits enough to emphasize the teasing words on your tongue. “you don’t look too far off from it now.”

“Oh, fuck off.” Matty scoffs, rolling his beautifully dark brown eyes and shaking his head enough for your hands to fall from it. “You’re a proper brat, you know that?” Matty squints his eyes ever so slightly and you couldn’t help but furrow your eyebrows as you await an explanation. “I gave you what you wanted and now you want to make jokes at my expense?”  

“Well actually, If I remember correctly, you were the one that knocked on my door.” You point out and Matty was already glaring before you could even finish getting it out. “Or are you too senile to remember that?” You tilt your head to the side, pouting ever so slightly in a way that makes his fingers pinch at your hip. “Need me to remind you?”

Matty rolls his eyes once more at the sight of you and you couldn’t help but giggle at his reaction, one that dies in your throat at the feeling of his hands trailing up your sides and spreading warmth in their path. 

“You know, you sure are making a lot of jokes about my age for a girl who has gotten off on calling me Daddy before.” Matty digs his blunt fingernails into your flesh and leans in with a raised brow to ask. “You need me to bend you over my knee and remind you of that?”

And while your empty core that was still throbbing from your high clenches from hearing Matty say that foreign word, you roll your eyes and shake your head to deflect from the blush that tints your cheeks. “Oh please, that was one time.”

“Two times.” Matty corrects, close enough to your face that his breath was ghosting over your lips and you couldn’t help but crave the feeling of more. A cocky sort of grin spread over his face as he suggested. “Maybe it was three times.”

“Whatever.” You breathlessly shoot back, bulletless. You weren’t in the mood to argue with the older man about who was more into the gap in your ages when his dark eyes were betraying him and falling down to glance at your lips that he always seemed to be transfixed on. 

And for a split second, you think that he might kiss you. 

Actually kiss you, a real one this time, not just while he was backing you into a shelf in a dimly lit supply closet. 

It was something he had never done outside of sex, something you craved, something that would make you feel alive - seen for the first time. It would give you hope that maybe he actually liked you, maybe this was real, maybe he was doing it for any reason past a way to hide the sound of him moaning. 

One could only hope.  

Matty leans in ever so slightly, not enough to notice that he had even moved at all, but you did. Of course you did. You noticed everything about him. 

Your heart pounds and before you can even convince yourself that this might actually be happening, Matty clears his throat and takes a step back, dropping your leg from around his waist. You wince at the ache in your muscles when your heel hits the floor and your body immediately grows cold from the loss of him. 

The disappointment tastes bitter on your tongue. 

You try not to sulk while Matty avoids eye contact, running his hands through his hair before tucking himself back into his boxers. You were still fighting to catch your breath by the time he was buttoning up his slacks, your heart aches at the sound of the zipper cutting through the thick silence of the supply closet, this was always the worst part. 

The aftermath, the come down from such a great high, the return to reality. 

Matty clears his throat once more, running a quick hand through his hair one last time before his dark eyes finally find their way back to you, you hate the way your heart jumps at the attention. 

“It was good for you?” Matty’s eyes search your face for any sign of disappointment with him, completely clueless to the fact that your eyes were full of it.

You shake your head softly, forcing a soft smile, falling back into character. “Yeah, of course.”

“Good.” Matty nods, quick and firm, smoothing a hand over his white button up in an attempt to ward off any wrinkles your hands may have caused. Matty hesitates, glancing over at you as he straightens the collar of his shirt. “I didn’t uh-“ He pauses to clear his throat. “I didn’t go too far with the whole Luke thing, did I?”

You curse the way your stomach flutters at the nerves settled in his tone of voice, at the mention of him being jealous of the boy your age outside of filthy words whispered against your neck, it made your heart race. 

“N-No.” You’re quick to stutter out the response, desperate to assure him that you were more than okay with him wanting to stake his claim over you, you just wish he’d do it outside of sex too. 

All you wanted was to be his, all the time, not just in secret. 

“No, you’re good, that was-“ You shake your head as you try to find the right word, hard to land on one when Matty was staring at you like this and oh god, you were terrified that he was about to figure you all out. “Fine. It was fine.” You assure, nodding your head to emphasize. You swallow down a lump in your throat before opening your mouth to speak further. “I uh- I really didn’t see him in there when I, you know,” You pause to grimace slightly before finishing your sentence. “bent over.”

You didn’t know why you felt the need to explain yourself further, some obsessive need inside of you to please him, to make it clear to him that he was the only man you wanted. 

Matty nods, tight and final, clearing his throat once more and you brace yourself for the impact of the words you knew he was about to say. “I’ll uh- I should probably leave first, yeah? Just in case someone is around.”

You nod, flushed and ruined with thighs still sticky, your heart in pieces. You try to convey that this was as casual to you as it was for him, that this didn’t mean anything past a quick hookup, that the mere thought of him leaving this supply closet didn’t make you want to die. 

Your stomach sinks when Matty’s dark eyes squint at you ever so slightly, hopeful that he wasn’t about to see right through your little act, you sit up straighter and force a brighter smile. 

“Yeah, good idea.” You nod, maybe too quickly. You force your eyes away from the man in front of you in favor of staring down at your own blouse, reaching out with shaky fingers to redo the buttons that you were grateful were still intact considering how forcefully Matty had undone them earlier. “I’ll wait five minutes.”

You speak the command before Matty gets the chance to, hopeful that it would hurt less if it came from your own mouth this time, it doesn’t. 

Matty shifts in front of you, the tips of his shoes grazing against your own and your heart begins to race, forcing your eyes to stay on the task at hand. You could feel the heat from his gaze and the hotter your skin grew under it, the more your fingers trembled, the harder it became to manage the buttons on your top. 

Matty hesitates before reaching out to knock your hands out of the way, taking over the task of buttoning up your blouse, having to undo one that you had missed. You flush at the thought of him noticing your struggle, you wonder if he knew it was due to the pressure you felt to be perfect when he was watching you. 

You hoped that Matty couldn’t feel how hard your heart was pounding as he slipped the final button through, hesitating once more before bringing his hand up to your mouth so his thumb could slide along the expanse of your bottom lip. 

You couldn’t help but glance up at him now, swallowing thickly as he applies more pressure, pulling your lip down ever so slightly into some form of a pout that perfectly conveyed how you were feeling now. 

“I’ll text you, yeah?” Matty’s voice was softer than before, unsure, hesitant. You wondered if his heart was racing as quickly as your own, if his stomach was as sick at the thought of walking away as yours was having to watch him leave. 

You nod, couldn’t even bring yourself to speak. You were sure that he would text you, he always kept that promise, at two in the morning when a head of blonde hair had finally rolled off of his chest. 

You felt sick at the reminder of blonde hair, harder to suppress the thought when you didn’t have the pleasure to distract you from it. You could already feel the guilt creeping up your spine in preparation to consume and devour you just like Matty just had. 

Not yet, you tell yourself one last time, almost time.

Matty nods once more before dropping his hand from your face and your eyes were already brimming with tears before he could even fully turn towards the door of the supply closet. His fingers rest on the doorknob in hesitation as he glances back at you over his shoulder just long enough to give you hope that maybe he’ll turn around and stay with you here forever, only to crush that dream as quickly as he formed it when he sighs and opens the door just wide enough to slip out as quickly as he first entered. 

And the five minute countdown begins.

The door clicks shut softly behind him yet you wince at the sound as if a gun had just gone off. And that’s almost what it felt like, Matty leaving you all alone yet again, a bullet to the chest. 

He was always in and out so quickly, never leaving a trace behind. 

Quick hands, quick mouth, quick exit. 

If someone were to open the door to the supply closet now there would be no signs that Matty had even been in there at all. The stapler and post-it notes he had knocked to the ground from the strength of his thrusts could have fallen from some mini earthquake that everyone was too busy to feel.

But then, of course, there was you. 

You’re still standing in the spot Matty had left you, glued to the shelf with trembling legs and a racing heart. Your mouth still parted from where you were gasping, moaning, drooling for him just a few minutes ago. 

Your hands shake as you pull your skirt back down, the material sticks to your skin and you wince at the feeling. You grimace at the sight of the crescent moon shaped marks left behind on your thigh from Matty’s blunt fingernails, how your skirt just barely covered them. You trace over them now and if you shut your eyes tightly enough, you could still feel Matty’s hands on you. 

How euphoric it was to feel him again, how it only took a few thrusts for you to feel drunk on him, how it had only taken a few seconds of you crowded against the shelf with him towering over you for you to give in and let him do whatever he wanted. Again. 

A cold, sharp, ugly feeling stings in your chest as you dig your own manicured nails into the indents Matty’s own had left behind. You craved the pain that would come with it, you deserved it, you wince anyways. 

You felt used, stupid, like a goddamn idiot for letting him fuck you. Again. 

And again, and again, and again, and when were you going to realize that this was all your fault?

That yes, Matty was a liar. That he knew all the right things to say to you to make you fall back under his spell. That you were probably the only girl in the office who would actually believe him when he makes the millionth empty promise through breathless moans. That this vicious, endless cycle that you have been trying to put a stop to for months now would never end if you didn’t find enough footing to stand your ground and tell him to leave you alone. 

But you didn’t want him to leave you alone, as sick as that was, you wanted him around all the time. And that was the problem. You wanted him here with you and you couldn’t have that because he wasn’t yours. 

How could he be when he already belonged to someone else?

And not just anyone, her. 

Farrah. 

Beautiful blonde bombshell, Farrah. 

Farrah, who you had only ever met in passing, avoiding eye contact through quick waves and clipped hellos. Farrah, who complimented your heels at the office Christmas party that Matty just had to bring her to. Farrah, whose shoulder brushed against your own one day when she was dropping Matty off something for lunch, completely unaware of the fact that Matty was accepting the food with fingers that had been inside of you in the elevator earlier that morning. 

Farrah, who was sickeningly sweet and nice and perfect and how were you supposed to know that the stranger who had bought you a drink at the bar had a girlfriend when you were fucking him in the bathroom that night you first met him?

And if Matty had been closer to your age, you might have thought to ask him first, you expect that sort of behavior from a boy in his twenties. But Matty wasn’t in his twenties, Matty was grown and you were drunk off of cocktails and the attention from an older man. The absolute last thing on your mind was grilling the man about his personal life over the rim of a Vodka Cranberry or through moans drowned out by the bass of the music thumping against the wall he had you up against. 

In your defense, you never thought you were going to see him again. You didn’t even remember his name the next morning, for Christ's sake. 

Though, to be fair, his name did come rushing back to you the following Monday morning when your boss called you into his office so you could show the new hire around the place. When you had first walked in, you thought the dark, grey-streaked curly hair looked familiar but you didn’t think much of it until he turned around to introduce himself. His dark eyes widened as quickly as your mouth dropped open in a gasp that was sure to puzzle your boss’ face quite a bit. 

Your boss, Thomas, asked if the two of you knew each other and you both lied in unison. A harmonizing no that wasn’t technically a lie, if you squint. 

You didn’t know him, not really. 

You just knew the way his tongue tasted like a freshly smoked cigarette mixed with the lingering thrown back shot of whiskey when it was sliding against your own. You just knew the way he sounded so beautiful moaning into your ear when your fingernails were scratching down his back. You just knew how his cum felt hitting the inside of your thighs when he pulled out at the last second, only to fall to his knees on the sticky, dirty floor of the bar bathroom so he could let you walk out of there clean. 

Ironically, you haven’t felt that way since the day you met him. 

So, it wasn’t technically a lie, you didn’t know him. Just the way he tasted, sounded, felt. 

You and Matty never talked about it. 

You introduced yourself as if it was the first time you had ever laid eyes on him and he followed blindly. You showed him around the office as if he was just any regular guy, leading him to his own office space that you couldn’t help but mentally note was directly across from your own.

But you didn’t think it’d be a problem, Matty’s office being across from your own. 

And it wasn’t, at first.

Quick waves and good mornings turned into questions that required your assistance, which led to brushed fingertips and pretending to not acknowledge the fact that you could feel Matty’s stare burning a hole in the side of your head when he was supposed to be looking at the computer screen instead. 

You’d chat about nonsense, getting to know one another past the ways you already pretended to not. Mindless conversations turned into Matty grabbing you a coffee when he was getting himself one which led to stealing a cigarette out of Matty’s pack when you were both leaned against the building for a quick break between meetings and spreadsheets. 

The two of you were growing closer, tensions were running higher and it was getting harder to ignore the night the two of you met. It was hard to share the last cigarette in his pack when you were staring at the way his fingers held the carcass and trying not to remember how they felt inside of you. 

It was a game of who would crack first, who would be the one to awkwardly bring up the fact that the two of you weren’t really strangers at all. How could you be when Matty had left the bar that night covered in you? When you went home just the same. 

And after a month of working together, on a night where you both ended up staying after office hours to work on something that Thomas was too lazy to complete himself, you finally talked about it. 

Well, if you want to call Matty bending you over his desk with his tie shoved in your mouth the two of you talking about it, but that’s beside the point. 

The point was that in all the time you had known Matty, since that first night at the bar and the months you had spent being his coworker, he had never mentioned that he had a girlfriend. 

Not once.

Not when he was fingering you in the stairwell behind the emergency exit door on a day that you had one too many buttons undone on your blouse. Not when he had you bent over the sink in the bathroom, forcing you to stare at yourself while he tore you apart for running your fingers along the inside of his thigh during a meeting. Not when he was hiding under your desk with his face between your thighs while Thomas talked to you about the quarterly numbers. 

Your nose was pressed to Matty’s stomach more often than paperwork these days and in the countless times you had slept with Matty since the day you met him, he had never mentioned her.

Not. Once. 

So how were you supposed to say anything but yes when Matty had knocked on the frame of the open door to your office and asked if you wanted to go grab lunch from a hole in the wall spot down the street from the office building? How were you supposed to not blush when Matty had pulled your chair out for you, his fingertips brushing your shoulder as he made his way over to sit across from you, his foot quick to tangle with your own under the table? 

How were you supposed to react when you had only taken two bites of the salad you had ordered when a pretty blonde girl approached your table with furrowed brows and eyes that could have lit Matty on fire if he hadn’t quickly assured her that this wasn’t what it looked like, that this was a business meeting, glancing over at you with eyes that begged you to play along when he introduced you as his coworker. 

And yes, that’s what the two of you were - coworkers. 

But it didn’t make it sting any less than the fading bruise of his hand on your ass to hear him refer to you as just that, coworkers. You had swallowed Matty’s cum more times than you could count and he couldn’t even introduce you as his friend. 

The title felt like a slap to the face. 

You had squinted at Matty ever so slightly in return and his face turned rather green from the fact that he had been caught. And even though the blonde was dumb enough to believe his excuse, that you were just a coworker he was having lunch with while discussing business at work, Matty knew that there was no lie he could feed you about who she was. 

There was no chance in hell that she was just an acquaintance, a friend, a coworker. No, with the way she had stormed over here with eyes ablaze and an accusatory tongue, she couldn’t be anything less than his girlfriend. 

And oh, that had the wheels starting to turn in your head. 

Your mind whirled as you had started to rethink the past few months and realize all the lies Matty had fed you that you ate up right out of the palm of his hand. All the ways he had turned you down when you tried to see him outside of office hours. All the excuse he made as to why you couldn’t come over and fuck in his bed for once instead of the hardwood desk in his office. His apartment was a mess. He had a friend from out of town sleeping on his couch. He lived too far away and he didn’t want to wait, he wanted you now. 

All excuses that you didn’t even think twice about, allowing him to lay you out on his desk for the hundredth time, quick to believe him because you had no reason not to. 

You never once thought that the real reason you couldn’t come over to his place was because it’d be rather hard to fuck you in his bed when his girlfriend was sleeping in it. 

You squinted a little harsher at the thought, a simple act that was enough to have Matty’s dark eyes full of panic and the fear that you were about to bend over and show the blonde standing next to the table the scattered hickeys Matty had sucked all over the inside of your thighs just a few hours prior. They were fresh, bright, placed in a pattern that had you squirming all over his desk. Or maybe you’d pull your top down and show her your tits that were marked with deep bruises that had just now started to fade from four days before when you were riding him in his office chair. 

You couldn’t lie and say you hadn't thought about it just to spite him for how stupid, how used you felt right now. The way his dark brown eyes stared at you, begging you to not expose him, it made you want to tell her everything.  

But you couldn't bring yourself to do it. 

Despite how badly you wanted to blow Matty’s life up in return for the way your heart was aching in your chest right now, worse and worse the longer you smelled the blonde’s perfume, it was impossible for you to find the will to open your mouth and let it all out when his foot was still linked with your own under the table.

It was out of sight, out of mind. And if he wasn’t currently wrapping his foot behind your own, probably some form of security to ensure that you wouldn’t get up and leave, you might have thought that he had forgotten it was even there in the first place.

It was sick, the way your heart had the audacity to flutter at the action. 

That you were still clinging onto some form of hope that he actually still wanted you here despite the fact that his girlfriend was standing next to him.

It had a sense of thrill running through your veins, you were sick.

Because even with his girlfriend standing right next to you, you still wanted him. 

And yes, it was an awful thing to say. And yes, you felt terrible even thinking about it. And yes, you were probably going to hell but who cares when it was impossible for hell to feel any hotter than the way Matty’s hands did running greedily along the expanse of your body. 

So maybe that’s why you kept your mouth shut, maybe that’s why you didn’t want to expose Matty or blow his life up because you knew that if you did, it wouldn't just ruin his relationship with his girlfriend - it’d ruin his relationship with you. 

And the thought of never seeing, feeling Matty ever again made you feel sicker than the morality of your actions. 

So when the blonde introduced herself as Farrah, you politely accepted the hand she offered and provided your own name in return, ignoring the nausea that swam through you when she repeated it back to you as a way to remember it.

You didn’t like hearing your name roll off of her tongue as much as you liked the sound of her boyfriend moaning it. 

And when Farrah apologized to you for the way she had stormed over here, you just waved her off and told her that everything was fine and not to worry about it, that you understood. 

You were still flashing her an overly bright, fake smile when she said she should get going so the two of you could continue your business meeting and it was a miracle that you didn’t laugh at the irony. 

Matty had been too busy watching you closely to even register that Farrah was telling him that she’d see him at home later and somehow hearing her say home stung worse than the sight of her leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek, his eyes still locked on your own through it all. 

In fact, the only time Matty had even turned to look at Farrah was when she walked off and he was turning around to ensure she was far away enough from the table before turning back to face you with an immediate apology and a plea for you to stay. 

And how could you not? His foot was wrapped around your own under the table, his eyes were begging, this was the first time he wanted you out of the context of sex and it made you feel alive. 

So you stayed, sat across the table from him, your salad now long forgotten as you listened to him explain his way through how you ended up being the other woman. 

You and Matty finally talked about the first night you met at the bar, actually talked about it this time with a lack of being bent over his desk and his tie in your mouth. 

Matty explained how he and Farrah had gotten into a big argument that night so he went to the bar to blow off some steam and he ended up finding you as a better vice than the alcohol. How he was drunk, how it was a mistake, how he was supposed to forget about you the next morning and never see you again. All things that felt as though he was ripping your heart out of your chest and stomping all over it. 

Only for him to pick up all the pieces and mend them back together by saying how he couldn’t stop thinking about you all weekend. How happy he was to turn around and see you that following Monday morning. How it felt like it couldn’t be a coincidence that out of all the jobs in town, he ended up applying to yours. 

How it must have been fate. 

And okay, maybe you shouldn’t have folded so easily, maybe you should have made him explain himself a little further before allowing him to drag you to the back of his car to devour you. But his foot was tracing patterns up the side of your leg and he sounded so pretty apologizing and what were you supposed to do?

And yes, he has a girlfriend. And yes, this was wrong. And yes, maybe you should have waited for him to break up with her before jumping all over him again, but his lips were pressed to your neck and there was no way in hell you were stopping him now. Besides, he had promised through breathless moans and deep thrusts that he was going to break up with her, he just had to find the right time. 

But that was, god, that was months ago. So, why hadn’t he yet?

Why is she still here?

It was a question you had been asking yourself for months now, a question you had been asking him for months now. A question he always had an answer, or rather, an excuse for. 

“Farrah’s birthday is coming up, I can’t break up with her around her birthday, that’d just be cruel.”

“Well, we just RSVP’d to Farrah’s cousin's wedding, I can’t break up with her now.”

Or your favorite one yet, “Farrah got a parking ticket today, she’s already had a rough enough week, I can’t just dogpile on top of that.”

It was just excuse after excuse with him, always feeding you bullshit that you ate up every single time because with every reason he provided as to why he couldn’t break up with her this week, he’d always assure you ten times harder that he’d do it the next week. 

Or the next, or the week after that, or maybe after the holidays and now you were seven months deep into this because you believed him. 

You always believed him.

It was hard not to when his hands felt this good, when he knew all the right things to do or say to make you forgive him and fall back under his spell, his trap. When he’d whisper apologies that melt against your skin as his hands explored your body before laying you out, spreading your legs and making you forget the reason you were even mad at him to begin with. 

So maybe this was all his fault after all. 

Because at the end of the day, you’re not the one to blame, right? This is his mess to clean up, his guilt to carry, his relationship that he’s ruining. 

You’re not the one cheating, he is. 

You’re just… helping him do it. 

And god, aren’t you just the world's worst feminist?

Because this whole situation would be a whole lot easier to manage if Farrah was a horrible person who deserved it, but she wasn’t. Farrah was nice and sweet and perfectly kind to you in the handful of quick conversations you’ve shared, you had no reason to hate her. 

But god dammit if you didn’t hate her fucking guts. 

Because she was everything that you weren’t and she had everything that you wanted.

Farrah was older than you, taller than you, much closer to Matty’s age than you were. Farrah was smarter than you, fully established in her career and not freshly out of college on a first year business degree like you. Farrah was prettier than you, something that you didn’t even necessarily believe but must have rang true considering Matty kept choosing her over you. 

And that killed you, that you had let yourself grow insecure over a woman who never even thought twice about you. That you found yourself comparing every little thing about your features and personality to her own. That you felt as though you were in competition with Farrah, fighting for the attention of a man with a girl who was completely unaware of the battle because she already had him. 

It didn’t matter that he came home to her with the taste of you on his tongue because at least he came home to her at all. 

Farrah was mature, passionate, charming, stable. 

You were young, easy, thrilling, convenient. 

An addicting bad habit that he just couldn’t seem to kick. 

You were never going to win this one sided battle with Farrah because it didn’t matter how many positionss Matty had fucked you in or how many times he assured you that he was going to leave, it didn’t change anything. 

He loves her. 

Matty loves Farrah, not you. 

But god, did you love him. 

Everything about him, really. 

The way he remembered how you took your coffee, always bringing you one on days that he noticed the bags under your eyes were a darker shade than normal. The way he winked at you after checking you out quickly when you passed him in the corridor, the way he’d turn his head around to get one last look at you before turning the corner around the hall. The way he always seemed to laugh at your jokes, even when they were told at his expense. The way he hummed to himself while waiting for the copier to finish printing off your paperwork, wanting to mark one thing off of your checklist to make your day a little easier. The way he chewed on the end of a pen when reading through a document on his computer screen. The way he got frustrated and pushed his hair back when it fell into his eyes while erasing a mistake he made on paper. 

The way he walked, the way he talked, the way he made you feel. 

And that was truly the most devastating part about all of this, that it wasn’t just about sex or lust or the craving you felt for him. It was the fact that you had never felt this way about anyone before and of course it would happen with a man nearly a decade older than you who has a girlfriend. 

You had spent years navigating through senseless hookups and now the one time that the sex actually needed to be meaningless, you ended up falling in love. 

And wasn’t that just beautifully, painfully ironic? 

That you could walk into a room, snap your fingers and have any man you wanted. 

Well, except for the man you actually wanted. 

To fuck, to kiss, to hold. 

You wanted everything with him. 

And he. didn’t. 

Right?

Because if he did then he would have broken up with Farrah months ago. 

You press your palms to your eyes and will yourself not to cry, breathing in sharp and shaky through the ache behind them, this was always the worst part. 

The aftermath. The comedown. The reminder that Matty was just stringing you along, lying to you, telling you what you wanted to hear to buy himself another week of being between your thighs. 

You smooth down the wrinkles creased in your shirt that Matty’s hands had molded as you try not to think about the ways they were created in the first place, swallowing down that voice in the back of your head that was telling you to just end this already. 

Forget about him. 

Move on. 

You were young, only twenty five, full of life. You shouldn’t be spending your twenties wasted being hopelessly in love with a thirty four year old man who had no intention of choosing you. 

Ever. 

So, even though you had put your foot down and sworn it a million times before, you meant it when you said that this was the last time. 

It had to be. 

You weren’t going to fall for his charm, the lies, the bullshit anymore. 

You were done with him. 

And as you ran your fingers through your hair in an attempt to brush out the knots Matty’s fingers had created when he was tugging on the strands earlier, you hoped that you meant it this time. 

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Uhhh… the 1975?!!!?!?!

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When bae noticed you and stare into your soul

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truly madly deeply

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when we all grow old i hope this song will remind you that im not half as bad as what you've been told

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my body is having a reaction

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Endless gifs of Matty Healy : 26/∞

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matty 🚬

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// Charli and George 💚 //

• wedding pics

(19.07.25)

© charli_xcx

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please just one bite

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i'll tell my kids this was the royal wedding 😭

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I’ve been thinking too much, I’ve been thinking too much

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Charli XCX and George on their wedding day.