soil-just-needs-water-to-be

[soil-just-needs-water-to-be]

being told to shut up about eurovision rn is annoying tf outta me tbh

[soil-just-needs-water-to-be]

fifteen minutes - matty healy

this is part of the lover, leaver universe, if you haven't read both parts, then you probably should <3

part one: lover, leaver part two: taker, believer

you join matty and george for a night out at lucky's - your boyfriends favorite dive bar that's home to delicious vodka crans, addictive games of darts and a local band that you couldn't wait to see perform. though, when you realize that matty was the lead singer, you found yourself less fixated on the lyrics he was singing and more more interested in how his hands looked playing his guitar and plotting how quickly you could get them inside of you.

shoutout to the anon who sent me the ask about tattoo!matty being in a band, you are the reason this filthy fic exists! i hope you enjoy <3

minors do not interact!

tags: 18+, degradation, thigh riding, fingering, choking, oral (m receiving), face fucking, masturbation, guided masturbation (briefly), semi public/public sex (alleyway lol), drunk sex (tispy sex), girlie being unreasonably obsessed with matty's hands lol (valid tbh)

20434 words

“Alright, a Vodka Cran for the pretty girl.” George’s voice carries through the sound of the music flowing out of the speaker, playing at a rather loud volume that made it difficult to hear much else other than the song that the man controlling the sound system had lined up in the queue - Paint It, Black by The Rolling Stones.

You smile at George as he slides the glass full of the deep red liquid that would serve as your third drink of the night, not even hesitating before picking the cool glass in your ringed hands and bringing the thin, black straw up to your glossed lips.

You only miss your mouth twice before your lips wrap around the straw and you take a gulp of the bitterly sweet cocktail with flushed cheeks and a loose grin, leaning into Matty’s side with a warm feeling spreading throughout your chest - unsure if it was from the alcohol that coursed through your veins or the feeling of Matty’s arm thrown over the booth behind you before sliding down to settle over your shoulders instead. 

“And a Jack and Coke for her grumpy, sore loser of a boyfriend.” George’s smile is bright and teasing as he slides into the booth across from you and Matty as smoothly as he slides the glass full of Matty’s dark drink across the table at him, your face involuntarily twists in disgust at the sight of your boyfriend’s drink of choice, never one to understand why someone would choose to indulge in such a cocktail when there were so many other fruitier and sweeter options. 

Matty glares at George from across the booth and you weren’t quite sure if it was due to the natural yet harmless flirtatious sentiment that George had addressed you with or the fact that his best friend was bringing up Matty’s rather pitiful score from the last round of darts the three of you had played. 

You hide the giggle that threatens to fall from your freshly glossed lips behind the straw of your drink, feeling pleased when your lips land around the black plastic first try this time. The vodka mixed cranberry juice slides down your throat easily as Matty flips George off, mumbling something to himself before forgoing the straw in favor of taking a gulp of his Jack and Coke, the warmth in your chest melts down to your core at the sight of the Adam’s apple in his throat bobbing as he swallows down the dark cocktail.

You squirm in the booth next to him, an action that’s easy for him to notice considering your side is pressed flushed to his own and his arm is thrown over your shoulder, his pointer finger and thumb pinch softly at your arm as he licks the remainder of the cocktail off his pink lips and settles the glass back down on the table between the two of you and George who was seemingly clueless to the way the air in the dive bar was starting to grow rather thick. 

“Oh, go on then, keep pouting.” George shrugs, picking up the neck of his bottle of beer and tipping the rim towards Matty with a shit-eating grin spread over his face. “I’d be pretty upset too if I lost that badly to a girl who didn’t even know how to play the damn game until you showed her how an hour ago.”

Matty groans and you preen, the loose grin that spreads your lips morphs into a more confident one as your dizzy mind tries to relive the memory of Matty teaching you the ropes about how to play darts. 

You weren’t ashamed to admit that you were more focused on the feeling of Matty’s body pressed against the back of your own than the directions that his deep voice was speaking into your ear as he held your hip in one hand and your hand that held the dart with his other - your arm completely relaxed and at his mercy as he sways your joined hands back and forth a few times before throwing them forward quickly.

You were surprised that your ringed fingers even knew to release the dart at the right time, sure that it was your subconscious in control of your hands and not your mind that was currently swirling in alcohol and filthy fantasies, too hyper focused on the way his breath fanned against the side of your neck as he spoke to even notice that Matty’s hand had seemingly guided you to a nearly perfect throw. 

You had fought off a pout when the warmth of Matty’s body left you in favor of standing next to you with a direction to try it on your own this time, your cheeks flushed pink as you accept the dart your boyfriend was offering to you, hopeful that it wouldn’t be too painfully obvious that you hadn’t heard a word that Matty had said to you when he was teaching you how to throw as you stare at the intimidating dart board across from you. 

You squint at the dart board to ensure that there weren’t actually two of them, blinking away the effects of your second Vodka Cran from your eyes and adjusting your posture before you sway your hand that held the dart back and forth in a way that mirrors Matty’s movements from a few minutes ago, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as you release the end of the dart in a throw that was far more confident than you felt. 

You weren’t quite sure if it was the alcohol coursing through your veins, your impeccable intuition or the fact that you just wanted to make Matty proud, but whatever it was drove the dart directly from your ringed fingers straight to the center of the bullseye - you weren’t even aware of what you had just accomplished until Matty was beaming and engulfing you in his arms and a kiss that had you feeling drunker than the vodka settled in your stomach.  

Call it beginners luck or just a drunk girl with an unshakable desire to please her boyfriend, but the rest of the game went on in a similar fashion. The kiss Matty had fixed you with from before seemed to have transferred all of his talent over to you as you played nearly a perfect game meanwhile Matty had thrown a few darts into the wall that supported the board.

You had watched Matty closely from your seat at the high top table near the dart boards, chewing on the end of your straw softly as you stare at the way your boyfriend rips yet another dart out of the wall next to the board with a frustrated huff and a tight jaw that had your legs pressing together, much like they were now as you watched the way Matty’s jaw flexes in annoyance at George’s teasing banter.  

“Oh, fuck off.” Matty groans with a roll of his dark eyes, snatching his glass full of Jack and Coke off of the table to take another hefty gulp. 

You shamelessly drink in the sight of his ringed fingers wrapped around the glass, how his large hands seemed to make the cup look so much smaller than it actually was, the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed - your hand slides over his thigh on instinct and earns you another pinch at your shoulder. 

“She beat you too, you know.” Matty recalls over the rim of his glass, setting his drink back down on the table and shifting his position in the booth next to you, his legs a little more spread than before - almost as though it was an invitation. Your drunken mind swirls with filthy images of you crawling under the table and taking him in your mouth while he mindlessly drinks on his Jack and Coke and pays you no mind. Almost as though Matty could hear your thoughts, his arm tightens around your shoulder, you weren’t quite sure if it was to let you know he was thinking the same thing or to try and keep you seated in the booth so you didn’t actually crawl under it. “Not that that’s very hard to do.”

George rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his beer before tipping the bottle towards Matty with a raised brow. “That’s no way to speak to someone who just got you a drink.”

Matty snorts. “A drink that’s paid for on my tab, by the way.”

George smirks, his eyes falling to you, reaching his beer across the table in an offer to cheers with your own drink as he winks. “And the drinks are so much more delicious when they’re free, don’t you think, Jewels?”

You clink your glass against his own before quickly bringing the cocktail back to your lips, desperate to hide the giggle with a straw as Matty shakes his head next to you. Your eyes wander after that, spotting two taller men who seemed to be setting up band equipment on the smaller stage near the front of Lucky’s, your eyebrows furrow, you didn’t remember Matty mentioning that a band was going to be playing here tonight. 

You nudge Matty softly, his attention immediately falling to you. You swallow down the remainder of the Vodka Cran in your mouth and tilt your head in the direction of the stage. “Who’s playing tonight?” 

Matty turns his head to the direction of the stage, you couldn’t help but allow your eyes to slide over and stare at the way his neck flexed in this angle, too busy drinking in the sight of your boyfriend to notice the way George was fighting off a smile. Your stomach flips when Matty turns back to meet your gaze. Wow, you needed to get a grip. 

Matty shrugged, opening his mouth to respond but the sound of the music that had been playing over the speakers being cut off stopped him, everyone’s attention pulled to the stage where the bartender was now standing with a microphone in her hand. You chew on the tiny black straw in your cup, hoping it would scratch the itch of desire you had to drink more of the cocktail, you were trying to save what was left of your Vodka Cran - not wanting to wrack Matty’s tab up too high. 

You try and focus on what the bartender was saying, but the alcohol coursing through your veins and swirling through your mind made it difficult to decipher the fast pace in which she was speaking, almost making you feel as though the loud music from before had made it easier for you to understand the conversation than the silence that filled the dive bar now. 

You were seconds away from leaning into Matty’s ear and asking what the woman on stage was saying, but you hadn't even gotten the chance to lean in an inch before Matty was taking his arm off of your shoulder and sliding out of the booth next to you. It felt as though a cold bucket of water had been poured over you in the absence of Matty’s body pressed against your own, yet it did nothing to cool down the heat in your stomach at the sight of him now towering over you sitting in the booth. 

You stare up at Matty through your lashes and furrowed brows. “Where are you going?” 

“Smoke.” Matty remplies simply, tipping his head to the side and reaching out to lightly hold your chin in his hand, you feel dizzy at the action. More desperate now than ever to undo his zipper and get your mouth around him, sure that he was thinking the same filthy thoughts as his thumb traces lightly over your bottom lip. It’d be so easy to do in this angle, you were nearly eye level with it, all you’d have to do is reach out and - You pull yourself from the thought, shaking your head softly and Matty’s hand falls with it. 

“You don’t want to hear the band?” You question, noticing that George was already gone but too blind to notice that he was in fact on stage and not outside smoking like Matty had implied.

“Nah, heard ‘em before.” Matty shrugs. “They’re a bit shit.”

Your drunken eyes widen slightly at his words, glancing around in hopes that nobody, especially the band, had heard his remark. You stare up at your boyfriend with some form of a pout at the thought of being left all alone, not having the energy in you to follow him outside to smoke.

“Alright.” You sigh dramatically, taking another small sip of the drink you were fighting to make last, Matty makes a mental note to order you another one. You swallow down the cold cocktail and the alcohol coursing through your veins gives you the confidence to feel bold enough to tease. “Well, I hope the lead singer is cute, at least.” You smile over the straw you were biting, batting your eyes up at your boyfriend who was unusually unphased by the comment. “So I have someone to entertain me while you’re gone.”

Matty just smiles, a reaction you weren’t expecting your boyfriend who tended to have a rather jealous streak to have, leaning down to kiss the top of your head and mumbling into your hair. “Knock yourself out.”

And then he was gone. 

You huff, roll your eyes and swirl your straw around in the ice and slightly watered down Vodka Cran in your glass - slumping against the booth. You were hopeful that your teasing words would make Matty stay, that his cigarette could wait until after the band was done, but unfortunately his need for nicotine outweighed whatever jealousy bubbled in his veins at your words. 

Or maybe he wasn’t jealous at all. After all, he had said that he had seen the band playing tonight before, maybe he knew he had nothing to worry about - not that he ever actually had anything to worry about. But maybe this band was full of older men who would serve you no interest, maybe it was all women or maybe he knew that he didn’t have to worry about you crushing over the lead singer because he was the lead singer. 

You sit up a little straighter at the realization that it was your boyfriend up on the stage and not some stranger, blinking a few times in succession to ensure that your eyes weren’t deceiving you, your drunken mind swirling with so many questions that you knew you wouldn’t have the answer to until Matty was off of the stage. 

Why had Matty never mentioned to you that he was in a band? Who were these other two boys on stage with him and George? Why was he grabbing a red guitar and slinging it over his shoulder? Does he play the guitar and sing? Oh my god, why had Matty never mentioned to you that he was in a band?

The questions that whirled through your mind had you feeling rather dizzy, but not near as lightheaded as you felt when Matty finally got situated on stage and looked up for the first time since walking onto it, his dark eyes not even having to search the room before immediately finding home with your own.

Your tongue felt thick in your mouth, your heart racing, your glass nearly slipping from your hand at the sight of your boyfriend on stage right now. The way the red guitar that rested on his hips contrasted beautifully against the all black attire he was wearing, the way his hands that you had been obsessed with all night held the neck of the guitar while his other ran through his hair, the guitar pick that he had rested between his teeth. 

You were fighting the urge to stay in the booth, every part of your body was screaming at you to pull him off the stage and have your way with him, just the image of him alone was enough to drive you wild - you weren’t quite sure if you would survive actually watching him perform.

But the need to see him, to hear him, kept you glued to the booth. 

Matty stares at you as if he has you completely figured out, a smirk tugging at his pretty pink lips as he reaches up to pull his guitar pick from between his teeth, the smirk on his face grows wider and the look in his eye grows darker as he shoots you a quick wink before strumming the guitar once, twice as George counts the boys in with his drumsticks and then Matty’s guitar erupted through the speakers and you felt as though it was lighting you on fire. 

You couldn’t help the way your mouth dropped, a sight that had Matty smirking through the words he sang into the microphone. You were too busy staring at the way his lips grazed against the microphone to even think about understanding the words to the song he was singing. You forgo the straw you had been chewing on all night in favor of tossing back the remainder of your drink, blindly reaching out to set it down on the table before you dropped it and it smashed into pieces, you felt more drunk on the sight of him than the three Vodka Crans that had settled in your stomach. 

The strands of hair that fell over his forehead from the action of him softly shaking his head to the beat, the whiney yet raspy nature of his voice, the familiar way his fingers curled against the neck of the guitar to make the right notes, the way he tossed his head back between verses in a similar way to how he did when he was sliding down your throat. You were desperate for it now, desperate for him now. 

And with the way he was performing, seemingly solely for you, it wasn’t that hard to imagine it. 

If you closed your eyes and just listened to his voice - the rasp, the whines, it was the same tone that he would fix you with. If you stared at the strands of his hair settled over his forehead, his head tossed back, his curled fingers - it was almost as if you could envision yourself settled at his hips instead of the red guitar. You find yourself envious now of the instrument, never having thought you’d ever find yourself wishing to be a guitar so badly. 

Matty didn’t take his eyes off of you for the entire performance, it was as though you were the only girl in the room. And really to him, you were. You made him feel as though he was performing to an arena full of thousands of people instead of just a dive bar of forty with the way you were looking at him. Even from across the bar he could see your eyes full of so much love, support, lust, hunger, a sight that had him performing that much harder and putting on a show just for you. 

And you ate it up, the entire set, drinking in the sight of him and hopeful that your tipsy mind that had forgotten to take a video would remember just how incredible he looked right now. You sang along to the songs you knew, covers that they had morphed into a style of their own, and listened intently to the songs you didn’t - hanging onto certain lines and trying not to let your delusion run wild about how they seemed to be written about you. 

You had mixed emotions when the set was finished, sad to see Matty taking his guitar off and setting it back down on its stand, already missing the sight of his head thrown back and the sound of his voice singing through the speakers and shooting down to your core. Your throbbing core that was over the moon to know that the set was over with, to see Matty making his way back over to you, to know that it wouldn’t be too much longer until you could get your hands on him like you have been wanting to do all night - desperate to see his head thrown back and hear his raspy voice in a context far more filthy than the show he had just put on. 

Though you’d have to be patient for a little while longer, because Matty wasn’t walking back over to you alone, George and the two strangers that had been on stage with them were following close behind. You swallow down your desire and slide from the booth to stand on shaky legs, ready to meet your boyfriend with open arms. 

“Pretty shit, right?” Matty teases through a smirk, quick to engulf you in a hug that had you feeling rather lightheaded, the smell of his cologne mixed with the sweat from performing had the desire you swallowed down spreading throughout your stomach in a way that had you feeling as though you were on fire. Matty pressed a kiss to your temple and pulled back to face you, keeping his arms at your waist so he could give your hips a pinch to tease. “I hope the lead singer kept you entertained while I was gone.”

The smirk on Matty’s face is evident as he shoots your own words from earlier back at you. You dig your manicured nails into his back with a little more pressure than normal but not nearly as rough as you wanted to, not hard enough to break the skin, but you were sure that would come later with the way he was looking at you right now from the feeling. 

You could only nod, you didn’t trust your voice to speak, scared that if you opened your mouth that the only thing that would fall out of it would be a pitiful moan from the feeling of Matty’s hands on you, from the smell of his cologne mixed sweat, from the memory of how fast his fingers moved against the neck of the guitar and oh god, you needed to put a little distance between the two of you before you dropped to your knees right there in the middle of Lucky’s. 

You pull away from Matty with flushed cheeks, a racing heart and a core that throbbed in desperation for the man that you were now putting a few inches of distance between. You smile at George, accepting the much more friendly, platonic side hug that he was going in for. The distance from Matty had you feeling a lot more confident in finding your voice, clearing your throat before speaking through a tight smile.

“I didn’t know you played the drums.” You comment off-handedly. You felt as though you were under a microscope with all four boys staring at you, the heat from Matty’s gaze and the curiosity from the two strangers, you were scared of them all figuring you out. Though by the way Matty was taking a step closer to fill the gap in the distance between you, you were positive that he already had. Your voice is as unsteady as your legs from the feeling of Matty’s body heat radiating against your side now. “You’re quite good.”

“Thanks, I-“ George starts to reply but Matty is quick to talk over him. 

“He hardly plays the drums.” Matty scoffs, throwing an arm over your shoulder and pulling you closer into his side. “He’s decent.”

The jealousy that you had expected from him earlier was starting to crack and show from the fact that you had complimented George yet not him, though it wasn’t meant to mean anything. You couldn’t possibly compliment Matty’s performance in a room full of people because as soon as your mind started to wander to whines, rasp, head tosses and curled fingers all you wanted to do was bite, lick, suck and devour. 

“Oh, fuck off.” George scoffs, shooting Matty a middle finger that was as harmless as Matty’s words, they both knew George was a hell of a drum player. “At least I didn’t fuck up the bass line like Ross did.”

Ross. You took note of the new name, finally able to put a name to the face of one of the strangers standing before you, but which one did it belong to? You subtly look between the two and decide to trust your gut that told you that the man with darker hair looked more like Ross than the other one did. 

“Oh, don't include me in your pissing contest.” The dark haired man speaks up, scoffing, confirming your suspicion that he was in fact the one named Ross. You stand up a little straighter at the confirmation. “Mate, are you going to introduce us or do I have to do it myself?”

“Oh, fuck.” Matty mumbles, so caught up in the comfortability with his friends that he had forgotten that you had never met two of them before. Matty squeezes your shoulder before pulling away from you in favor of taking a step closer to the two men. You were grateful for the distance, surely able to focus on getting to know his friends better without Matty’s cologne clouding your mind. “This is Ross, the tall one.” Matty jokes, slapping a hand gently down on Ross’ shoulder before leaning over to do the same to the other man standing there. “And this is Adam, the quiet one.”

“And what does that make me?” George speaks up with a face screwed in curiosity and a tone to match, already rolling his eyes before Matty could finish shooting back. 

“The annoying one.” Matty says with a smile, earning him another middle finger that eventually gets sent your way when your stifled laughter is heard over the music that was back to playing through the speakers of Lucky’s. You hold your hands up in defense and George rolls his eyes while reaching behind you to grab his bottle of beer he had left on the table before the boys went on stage. “Adam, Ross, this is my girlfriend.”

You couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered at the way your name rolled off of Matty’s tongue, so used to him calling you Jewels for the past year of knowing him and now the various pet names he fixed you with, it was a rare occurrence to hear your actual name falling from his tongue. You were drunk on the sound, drunk on the feeling that came with it, drunk on the idea of him moaning it later when you - You shake the thoughts from your head, waving softly to Matty’s friends who you finally knew the name of. 

You were nervous, you had no idea you would be meeting people from Matty’s close circle today, because if you had, you might have gone a little easier on the Vodka Crans from earlier. You wanted to make a good first impression, you wanted them to like you, you were desperate to connect with them in the same way you had with George. If they didn’t approve of you, what would that mean for you and Matty?

You search for something to say, though through the alcohol clouding your brain alongside the filthy images of what you wanted to do to Matty later, you couldn’t find it in yourself to say anything other than a shy, “Hi.”

The boys wave softly back, surely picking up on your nerves, which only makes you that much more nervous. Your heart races against your ribcage as silence lingers in the air for a beat before one of them, Adam, speaks up. 

“Feels so weird to actually meet Matty’s girlfriend.” Adam comments off-handedly, giving you a small smile before taking the necessary steps forward and wrapping you in a hug that oddly felt comfortable. “I never thought the day would come.” Adam teases, shooting Matty a look that had you wondering if he meant that in a way of thinking Matty would never settle down with someone or if he had heard all about you just as George had and didn’t think Matty would ever get over himself and admit the feelings he had for you. Matty just rolls his eyes and you make a mental note to ask him about it later. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Yeah, it feels weird to meet Matty’s friends.” You speak up, the nerves evident in your voice. “I meant-“ You clear your throat. “I didn’t know that he had friends other than George.” You try to rephrase but it comes out worse than your first attempt, George snorts as you shake your head to try and clear the alcohol from your mind as you fight to clarify. “Fuck, I mean-“

“Oh, I like you already.” Ross cuts you off with a breathless laugh, pulling you in for a hug that had all the nerves melting away. He liked you, they liked you, you had nothing to worry about. “Any girl that makes fun of Matty is a girl that I approve of.”

Matty groans and you couldn’t help but giggle, feeling relieved and as though you could breathe again, even if it was at the expense of your pouting boyfriend. You take a deep breath and send Matty an apologetic smile that he playfully rolls his eyes at, the simmering heat in your stomach igniting back in full force at the feeling of Matty’s body pressed back into the side of your own, choosing to slide his arm around your waist instead of over your shoulder this time, his blunt fingernails digging softly into the material of the rather short skirt you were wearing. You were already drunk on the feeling. 

Now that first introductions were out of the way and you were already one hug deep with his friends, you felt much more comfortable speaking than before, even if it was harder to do now that two of Matty’s fingers were tracing soft circles over your hip bone so slowly that nobody would even know he was doing it. But you did. You could feel it. You felt it everywhere. In the beat of your heart, in the thrum of your veins, in the throb of your core. 

You didn’t know how much longer you could wait for him. 

You clear the desire from your throat before shifting under Matty’s arm, tilting your head slightly to the side. “Wait, why haven’t I met you two before?” You shake your head softly, cursing the third Vodka Cran in your stomach for making it so difficult for you to articulate what you were trying to say. “Earlier, I mean.” You clarify, Matty’s fingers still rubbing slow, mindless circles over your hip. “Why didn’t you come sit with us in the booth before the show?”

“Well,” Ross starts, already sporting a smirk. “Adam and I were too busy setting up for the gig to enjoy a nice little cocktail.” Fixing George and Matty with a pointed look before looking at you with a slightly raised brow. “Something these two are too lazy to come help with.” 

You couldn’t help but giggle at the way Matty and George grumbled in unison, the laughter dying in your throat at the feeling of Matty pinching your hip before trailing his hand away from your waist in favor of resting it against your lower back instead. Your core throbbed to the beat of your heart at the feeling of Matty’s thumb, pointer and middle finger slipping under the material of the shirt you were wearing, yet not going any higher than the skin above the waistband of your skirt, the place where his ring and pinky fingers found home. 

The feeling of Matty’s hand against your bare skin had you feeling as though you were on fire, ready to throw all caution to the wind and push him back into the booth behind you and have your way with him in front of everybody in here. You were sure that Matty was considering doing the same thing with the way his blunt fingernails were softly drawing patterns into your lower back before growing bored of the movement and using the pads of his fingers to trace letters onto your skin instead, goosebumps quick to rise there at the feeling. 

You felt more drunk on your boyfriend's touch than the vodka had ever made you feel, your throbbing core clenches when your dizzy mind finally made the connection and realized what he was spelling on your skin - Matty. 

With each finished spelling of his name, the pressure in which he wrote it the next time grew heavier and heavier, making you feel as though he was just as impatiently waiting for this conversation to end as you were. 

You wanted to get to know Matty’s friends, of course, just maybe not when you were already dripping in desire for him like you were right now - and Matty wasn’t helping your case at all. 

“Making us do all the hard, manual labor while you two are sipping on drinks and probably off fucking around, playing darts or something, right?” Adam pipes in, raising a brow at the two as he awaited a response from either. 

Matty was too busy slipping his fingers under the waistband of your skirt to care about defending himself, his actions hidden by the material of the shirt you were wearing as you fought to not let it show on your face, wishing you hadn’t finished your cocktail earlier so you could hide behind the glass as Matty’s fingertips softly run over the lace of your thong.  

George nearly spits out the beer in his mouth, quick to swallow down the remainder of the fizzy liquid before the laughter bubbles out of him, bringing a hand down on Adam’s shoulder to support himself. 

“Oh, mate, you should hear about the fucking game we just played.” George speaks through heaps of laughter, one you normally would have mirrored if Matty wasn’t currently toying with the waistband of your thong. “Matty lost so fucking bad, he-”

“That’s enough out of you.” Matty is quick to cut George off with a glare.

You hadn't heard his voice in a minute, the sound of it had thrill shooting up your spine - the annoyance, the rasp, the power. You have to force yourself to pull your eyes away from staring at his side profile, his clenched jawline, his plump lips, his dark eyes shooting daggers at his friend who was laughing at his expense.

You couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs together at the sight. That earns you the feeling of Matty slipping a finger under the waistband of your thong and pulling it back far enough just to snap it against your skin before his hand was gone all together. 

“Okay, but seriously, I’ve never seen him play so fucking bad before.” George continues to talk to Adam and Ross as if Matty wasn’t in the room, lowering his voice in the slightest bit as if that would prevent Matty from overhearing. You were too busy mourning the loss of Matty’s touch to even care. “He was throwing the shit into the wall, I mean-”

“Alright.” Matty groans with a roll of his dark eyes. “Can we do the whole ‘embarrass Matty in front of his girl’ thing later, please?” Your heart skips a beat at being referred to as his girl, his. “I can’t deal with you three right now.”

“If by later, you mean after another round of drinks, then yes.” George shrugs, shooting Matty a shit eating grin. “Drinks paid for on your tab, by the way.”

You fight off the smile that threatened to spread as George threw Matty’s words from earlier back in his face, Matty rolls his eyes with a huff and George’s own smile just grows wider at the sight. 

“I quite like the sound of this.” Adam nods, shooting Matty a softer, yet still smug smile.

“Oh, the stories we have for you.” Ross teases, wiggling his eyebrows before walking over and slipping into the booth that the three of you had claimed earlier that night, throwing his arm over the back of the booth and calling out to Matty through a smile. “I’ll have a beer, please.”

“Yeah, well, George can get it for you.” Matty scoffs, tilting his head to send George a pointed look. “The bartender already knows him and my tab quite well.”

And then his eyes were on you. Finally. For the first time in what felt like forever. Your heart was already racing from the eye contact.

“I’m gonna go outside for a smoke,” Matty announces to the group without taking his eyes off of you, your stomach flips as you watch Matty’s eyes that were darker than normal flicker down to your mouth before coming back to meet your heated gaze. “do you want to come?”

And while you didn’t really care to go outside and smoke, the implications behind such innocent words and the way he was looking at you as though he could eat you alive had you swallowing thickly before nodding - you didn’t trust your voice to speak.

Matty nods once and then his hand returns to your lower back, leading you through the bar with a sure hand that was lighting your skin ablaze, desire dripping down to your shadow as the two of you make your way through the crowd of drunk strangers and out into the alleyway.

Adam takes a step forward to follow the two of you out, but George is quick to put a hand to his chest and stop him. “Trust me, that was not an open invitation. You don’t want to go out there.” 

And as Matty was pushing you up against the brick wall out the back door of Lucky’s, trapping your body under his own as his tongue hits your mouth before his own lips do, you prayed that nobody would.

You moan into Matty’s mouth at the feeling of the brick digging into your exposed skin, quick to thread your ringed fingers through Matty’s dark hair as you fight to keep up with the pace he was kissing you with, desperation pouring off his tongue as quickly and it dripped between your thighs. 

Matty doesn’t hesitate to slip a strong thigh between your own, his rough hands that had held your attention all night ran greedily up and down the expanse of your body, grateful to touch any and every part of you after having to fight to keep his hands to himself all night. They settle on your hips after an experimental roll of them down on his thigh, his blunt fingernails digging into the skin just above the waistband of your skirt before gripping your hips tightly and moving them in a way that encourages you to grind down on his jean clad thigh. 

You force Matty to swallow down a moan at the feeling of your aching, throbbing core finally finding some form of relief from the pressure that had been building there all night long, really since you and Matty had been getting ready for the night in his bathroom - hands that he refused to keep to himself while standing behind you as he watched you apply your makeup that he couldn’t wait to ruin when the two of you got home. 

Or now, it seemed, as he was sucking your bottom lip into his mouth while rolling your hips down on his flexed thigh. 

You tug on the strands of Matty’s hair you had threaded through your fingers rather harshly, thrill climbing up your spine at how obscene the two of you were sure to look right now, bodies flushed together underneath the glow of a singular overhanging light above the back door of the alleyway next to Lucky’s. 

The feeling had Matty groaning into your mouth, a sound that you swallowed before he was tugging at your bottom lip with his teeth and pulling it back slowly until it popped back in place. You expected Matty to dive back into you, surprised when he found a home in your neck instead, his hair tickling your jawline as he trailed open mouth kisses along the expanse of it. 

You fight to catch a breath other than Matty’s own now that his mouth had chosen a new victim for his assault - sucking a bruise into your collarbone that you hoped would be hidden under the neckline of your shirt or the boys waiting for you inside would have a field day with the sight.

You tug on his hair, hopeful that it would pull him off, but Matty doesn’t budge. Your eyes roll back at the feeling of your boyfriend sucking on such a sensitive area, your hips grinding down at a quicker pace now - absolutely shameless as you get off on Matty’s thigh, his assault on your neck, his fingers digging into your hips and guiding you in a steady rhythm.

The same fingers that you had been staring at all night long, the way they held his glass of Jack and Coke that looked much smaller in his rather large hands than it had in your own when you had tried a sip of his first round, the way they twirled a dart around as he waited for his next turn, the way they curled against the neck of the guitar in such a familiar way that you craved to create the right notes to carry on the song and- 

“You didn’t tell me you were in a band.” You gasp out into the dimly lit alleyway, having to blink a few times for your eyes to adjust for you to see in the low lighting, only for them to flutter closed at the feeling of Matty biting softly over the bruise he had created on your collarbone before licking a thick strip up the side of your neck and back home to your mouth. 

“You never asked.” Matty mumbled and then his lips were back on your own in a bruising kiss that was more teeth and tongue than anything else. 

You couldn’t help but feel dizzy from the never ending cycle of messy tongues, heavy breathing, tugged hair and rolled hips. You felt as though you were on fire, burning alive from the overflowing heat in your stomach that craved release, craved Matty’s touch, craved anything that he would give you as long as it was enough to snap the chord inside of you. 

You were happy to chase and barrel a release on Matty’s jean clad thigh, could feel it building inside of you already, so fucking desperate for it that you knew it wouldn’t take but a few more of Matty’s guided roll of your hips down on him and you’d be falling over the edge. 

So the whimper that you force Matty to swallow when he takes all of that away from you is nothing shy of pitiful, nearly feeling as though you could cry from the loss of pleasure, the loss of relief. 

“Please.” You beg, plead, whine against Matty’s lips. You were too far gone for the teasing that Matty would normally put you through, the entire night was enough foreplay for you. You didn’t want to play games, you wanted him now. “I-I can’t.”

Matty’s reply is silent, though it hits you like a freight train, massaging his tongue against your own while using his thigh to spread your legs wider for him as his hand sporting the reflective Tigers eye ring leaves your hip in favor of trailing up your thigh and taking the hem of your skirt with him.

Your heart races at the feeling, at the anticipation, swallowing thickly when his fingertips brush the lace of your ruined thong. You gasp even though no real pleasure came with it, but just the ghost of Matty’s touch alone had your core clenching around nothing and desperate for whatever he had in store.

Matty forces himself away from your mouth, a trail of spit connecting your two swollen bottom lips as your eyes drink in the sight of him in the glow of the dimly lit alleyway, your stomach flipping at the sight of him panting above you - sure that his eyes were as dark as the night sky around you. 

“Poor baby, so fucking desperate to cum that you were about to do it all over my thigh.” Matty coos, pouting softly, a new wave of arousal pools in your already ruined thong and makes your empty core clench.

Your own breathing was starting to grow heavier at the feeling of his fingers tracing mindless patterns on your inner thigh,

his other hand at your hip pinches meanly while his fingers under your skirt trail to toy with the material of your clothed core. You were sure that Matty could feel you throbbing through the lace, could probably feel it on his thigh earlier, so desperate for him that even the faintest touch over the lace of your thong had your eyes fluttering shut. 

“I think I can do a little better than that, don’t you think?” Matty tilts his head to the side ever so slightly, a smirk twitching at his lips as his fingers slip under the material of your black, lace thong and slowly start to slip it to the side. 

“Please.” The whine comes down from your toes, the feeling of the cool air hitting your wet core had you tugging on Matty’s hair, desperate for him to stop teasing and do something with you already - so wound up that it might only take a gust of wind against your exposed core to send you over the edge at this point. 

You gasp through a moan at the feeling of two of Matty’s fingers running through your wetness, a ghost of a touch but it still lit you ablaze, having craved this all night. 

“Fuck.” Matty groans, his head falling forward and causing his forehead to press against your own, panting against your swollen lips. “You’re so fucking wet for me, baby.” His fingers at your hip pinch the surface as he uses his thigh to spread your legs a little more for him while making sure that you would still be comfortable against the wall. “All this just from watching me play the guitar?”

And while the filthy images of the sinful way Matty handled his red guitar are all you can see behind your eyes that were fluttering closed, you find yourself shaking your head softly, tugging on his hair roughly. “Been this way all night.”

“All night?” Matty repeats as if he doesn’t know, back to sporting that damn pout on his swollen lips, still just ghosting his fingertips over your throbbing core. “Well, what’s got you so worked up, baby?”

“You.” You whine, rolling your hips down in a poor attempt to make Matty touch your throbbing core with more of a purpose, though his other hand is quick to stop the movement with fingers that dug meanly into your hip bone. “Everything about you.” 

You admit shamelessly, surely feeding his massive ego. You knew your boyfriend well enough to know that there was something he wanted to hear before he’d give you what you wanted, what you craved. You were desperate to find it, swallowing thickly around a dry throat as you relive the night you shared. 

“Y-Your cologne, the way you smell. The way you held me when you were showing me how to play darts, speaking into my ear.” You speak through breathless pants, squirming against the brick wall under his hold. “The way your throat would move when you swallowed your drink down, how you’d catch me staring.” 

Matty nods along aimlessly to your words, unphased by your breathless words. His two fingers ghost over your entrance while a thick brow raises at you in a challenge, almost as if he was daring you to admit it. The feeling of being teased with what you so desperately craved had your heart racing, core clenching and lips moving. 

“Your hands.” You admit shamelessly, nearly crying out at the feeling of Matty’s two fingers slowly starting to enter you after finally giving him what he wanted to hear. “Fuck, your hands.” 

“My hands?” Matty tilts his head to the side in faux curiosity, filling you up to his knuckles with a pout, you clench desperately around his unmoving fingers. “These hands?” Matty coos, curling his fingers to emphasize and you nearly double over at the feeling, a broken moan ripped from your throat. “You want hands? Want my fingers?” You were nodding before he could even finish the thought, whimpering at the feeling of Matty slowly pulling his fingers out just to thrust them back in in a way that had your head falling back against the brick wall. “Yeah, I bet you fucking do, been staring and gagging for them all night.”

You moan freely at the pleasure that blooms through you from the way Matty’s two fingers were fucking into you now, a steady pace that kept you shameless at the fact that Matty had caught you gawking over him all night, you werent being as subtle as you thought you had been. You blamed the three cocktails floating through your veins. 

“What did you expect?” Your voice as breathless as you felt, his fingers sure and thick, you were thankful for the brick against your back that was cooling down your otherwise overheated skin - supporting you to stand because you surely wouldn’t be able to do it on your own. “You were doing it on purpose.”

“Doing what?” Matty dared, the smirk that twitched at his lips earlier was full blown now, a thick eyebrow raised in yet another challenge. “C’mon, baby, use your words.”

You were panting, moaning, whining around his fingers that fucked you breathless. How did he ever expect you to use your words when he was knocking them from your tongue as soon as they formed there? His fingers fucking you in a way that pulled the sounds he was addicted to out of you freely. 

You were trying to find some ground to stand on, hard to do when Matty was finding a home back in your neck, his tongue doing more work on the area than his lips had. His teeth graze over the skin of your pulse point and he pinches at your hip, encouraging you to speak, to obey. You swallow thickly, clenching around his fingers, tugging on his hair - fighting through whines and whimpers to form a coherent thought.

“Running your fingers along the rim of your glass.” You remind him of the sinful show the two fingers that were now inside of you performed over the rim of his empty cocktail while he spoke to George earlier that evening, an act that could be deemed as innocent, but you knew better. “Tracing your name on my lower back in front of your friends.” You remind him of the way his hand slipped under your shirt right before the two of you came out here, an act that looked innocent to anyone who saw, but they couldn’t feel his actions underneath that were anything but. “Curling your fingers like that while you played on stage, fuck.”

You didn’t have to remind him of that, he knew all too well what you were talking about, if the smug look on his face told you anything. You couldn’t help but wonder if this was Matty’s plan all along, keeping this whole band thing a secret from you just so that you’d get all worked up at the sight of him and he could drag you out here to the alleyway to tease you about it. Putting on a show for you all night, on the stage and off of it, just so you’d be putty in his hands. 

“Hm.” Matty hums against your neck, curling his fingers in the same way he had over the neck of the guitar not even half an hour ago, trailing his tongue up to lick over the shell of your ear before whispering hotly into it. “Must be muscle memory.” Matty teases, his fingers curling against the heavenly spot inside of you that had you whimpering. “I’ve had lots of practice, you know.”

You moan his name freely, unashamed, clenching around his curled fingers like a vice. Your head tosses back against the brick wall behind you, only giving Matty more space to explore, to mark, to own. His thick fingers slow down in pace, causing a whine of protest to tumble from your bitten raw lips, digging your manicured nails into his scalp at the feeling of him smirking against your neck. 

Matty pulls himself away from your neck in favor of staring down at you, his smirk widens at the sight of you. Your bitten raw lips, your flushed cheeks, your glazed over eyes - you were quite the sight.

Matty removed his other hand from your hip in favor of resting it on the brick wall next to your head, such a simple change in posture that had him looking taller, more powerful than before. A new wave of arousal spreads through you like wildfire at the sight of him, your stomach flips as you stare up into his dark eyes, your breathless pants mixing with his own. 

“Was thinking about you while I was up there, you know.” Matty’s voice is low, gruff, your core clenches at the sound while your heart thrums in anticipation of where he could be going with this. “Every time I curled my fingers and my guitar would purr, I couldn't help but think about how similar you sound when I do the same to you.” His two sure fingers curl to emphasize and a broken moan rips from your throat from the pleasure that blooms through you. “Fuck, baby, cant even play my guitar without thinking of how pretty my girl would sound if I was playing her instead.”

A whimper that was nothing short of pitiful falls from you at that, feeling dizzy at the fact that Matty had been picturing the same filthy thoughts on stage as you had in the booth watching him, it was moments like this where you knew he was your soulmate.

“Fuck, Matty.” You speak breathlessly through a moan, squirming under his touch. You felt as though you were on fire from how close you were teetering the line of a release, how desperate you were to fall over it. 

“And with the way you were staring at me from the booth, baby, fuck.” Matty groans, his fingers picking up speed once again, your head falling back on the brick wall with ease. “You’re lucky I didn’t come down there, bend you over that table and fuck you in front of everybody in there.” You whimper at the thought, your core clenching at the idea, Matty is quick to pick up on it. “Bet you’d like that, hm?” You were nodding, quick and shameless, before he could even finish. “Yeah? You wanna let me show everyone how I turn such a fucking brat into my good little girl?”

You moan so loudly that Matty has to cover your mouth with his own to silence you, his tongue hitting your lips before his own did. He kisses you with fever, hot and desperate. It was hard to keep up with the pace he was kissing you with when you were already fighting for you life to keep up with the pace he was fucking you with. 

His thumb finds a home against your swollen, neglected bundle of nerves and you gasp out a moan that Matty swallows, your eyes rolling back at the feeling of the way his calloused thumb was tightly circling your clit. You were quickly spiraling down a hole that you were at the mercy of Matty digging you out of, an all too familiar heat coiling in your stomach tighter and tighter with each passing thrust and swirl of Matty’s fingers. 

You were so drunk on the feeling of white hot pleasure that was rolling through you that you couldn’t even find it in yourself to care about how loud you were being, moan after whine after whimper falling like a symphony out of your mouth and into Matty’s own until he had to find another solution. 

A string of spit connects your bottom lip to his own as he pulls away from the dirty kiss, his hand that had kept him balanced on the wall was quick to wrap around your neck faster than you could blink. His fingers that had been chilled from the outside air cool down your burning hot skin as the heat finds its way down to your core at the feeling of him squeezing your windpipe. 

“Be quiet.” Matty warns, his fingers wrap a little tighter around your neck and your mouth falls open easily. Matty’s fingers curl at the sight and your mouth only opens wider at the pleasure. “I’m having fun, don’t get us caught.”

Matty lets up off the pressure on your neck, but keeps his hand resting there as a reminder of what he could do. You gasp in a deep breath and quickly lose it all over again as Matty doubles his efforts on you, hurdling you closer and closer to the release you were so desperate for. 

“I wanted you like this.” Matty admits, resting his forehead against your own, his heavy breath fanning over your lips as his fingers fuck into you in a pace that had your gripping onto his shoulder for support - your manicured nails digging into his leather jacket. “Just like this, right up against the fucking brick wall of my place that day you came in for a tattoo.” 

That day felt like a lifetime ago now, the nerves you felt before walking into 102 Tattoo to face the boy you hadn’t seen in over a week because he had run away after kissing you. You thought about how shocked that girl would be to know that she’d be laid out on his leather chair begging for him just a few hours later, how shocked that girl would be to know where the two of you were now - pressed up against the brick wall of a dive bar, in a dimly lit alleyway, because the two of you were so desperate for one another that you couldn’t even wait until you got home. 

“When you asked for a hit of my cigarette and the way you were looking up at me, listening to me so well while I guided you through how to smoke it, fuck.” Matty groans, nipping at your bottom lip, his thumb swirls mind numbing circles around your clit while his fingers fuck a pace to match. “When you handed it back to me and it had a ring of your lipgloss on the end of it, all I could think about was you leaving lipgloss prints on my dick and I couldn’t fucking take it anymore, had to have another taste of you.” 

You whine at Matty’s words, at how desperate he was for you then, how desperate he was for you now, how desperate you were to get your mouth on him - how desperate you had been for it all night long.

“Fuck, Matty.” You moan, clenching around his curled fingers and rolling your hips down to meet his thrust, mirroring the way his thumb circled your swollen, throbbing clit. “I’m so fucking close, please.”

“I should have fucked you right there, let everyone see how easy you gave it up for a man you claimed to fucking hate.” Matty smirks as you melt against the brick wall on his fingers, sweat collecting at your hairline as your manicured nails dig into the shoulder of his leather jacket - how desperately you wished they were clawing at the skin of his back instead. “And how does my baby feel now, hm?” You felt dizzy at the condescending tone that dripped from his voice, the smirk that he spoke through, the power that he held over you. “You still hate me?”

It was ironic that he was asking such a thing when both of you knew good and well that this couldn’t be further from the truth. As far as you were concerned, Matty hung the moon and as far as Matty was concerned, you were the only girl living under it. 

Normally you would have found yourself lying just to rattle him a little, show a bit of your bratty side and claim that you did in fact still hate him just to see what form of punishment he’d fix you with this time - if he’d edge you until you were crying or if his hand would wrap back around your throat just to shut you up. And while thrill creeps up your spine at the idea, the burning desire in your lower stomach was screaming far louder than the stubborn bones in your body. 

You shake your head softly, not even daring to speak in fear that he’d stop for not following his order of ‘be quiet’ from earlier, staring up at him with eyes full of desperation and a silent plea to take pity on you. Matty’s smirk grows deeper at the sight of you, knowing that you had to be dangerously close to a release with how well you were behaving, it was such a rare sight for you to listen so easily.

Lucky for you, Matty was more than ready to send you over the edge, desperate to see your face screw in pleasure as you fell apart underneath him. 

“Course you don’t.” The breath from Matty’s words fan over your lips, his voice as rough as the bricks digging into your back. “You love my cock too much, love me too much.” You whine, unsure if it was due to the fact that you were so close to falling over the edge or from how the mention of Matty’s dick made you remember how desperate you were for it. “Isn’t that right, baby?”

You were nodding before Matty could even finish the question, swallowing around a dry throat that had you wishing you had consumed more water than vodka tonight, clenching around his fingers as you speak with a voice as breathless as you felt. 

‘Yes.” You whine. “I love you, love your cock, your mouth.” Matty curls his fingers and you nearly cry out. “Fuck- Your hands.”

“My hands.” Matty repeats, doubling his efforts on you in a way that had your head tossing back against the brick wall and your mouth falling open in a long, drawn out moan that had Matty’s finger that rested against your neck wrapping around your windpipe yet again. “Isn’t that what got us out here in the first place? Your obsession with my hands and the fact that you couldn’t stop fucking drooling over them all night?”

You were growing to feel a bit lightheaded, unsure if it was due to Matty’s words, his fingers curling inside of you, his hand wrapped around your throat or a filthy mixture of all three. You whine as best as you could with Matty choking you, pitiful and pathetic, as Matty uses your open mouth to his advantage and spits inside of it. He pulls away with a wicked grin, his dark eyes glued to your mouth and a filthy groan falls from his lips and fans over your own at the sight of you swallowing - the fact that he could feel your throat moving under his hand. 

“Fuck, if you love my hands so fucking much, why don’t you show me, then?” Matty speaks through a thumb that swirls tight figure eights over your clit and fingers that were fucking into you so deeply that you almost felt as though you were drooling, maybe you were. You couldn’t focus on anything other than the way your core ached for release, the way your lungs ached for air, you felt as though you could cry from relief when Matty finally gave you the permission. “Be a good girl and cum for me, baby, all over my fingers. Let me hear how pretty you can be.”

And then his hand was off your throat, finally allowing you to gasp in a deep breath and get some air down to your lungs just in time for it to leave all over again from the feeling of your orgasm crashing into you, finally. Your eyes brim with tears as you fall apart on the brick wall of Lucky’s, body convulsing underneath Matty as your core clenches around his fingers that continued to fuck you slowly through your high. You moan Matty’s name as if it was all you knew, and in that moment, it was.

“Fuck, you’re such a good fucking girl, that’s it.” Matty groans, fixing you with a kiss that was really more just heavy breathing and whimpered moans than anything else, only to melt against his tongue when you finally came down from your high. 

Matty kissed you soft and slow, the complete opposite of how he had just a few minutes ago, distracting you from the way his fingers were slowly pulling out of you. You were so wrapped up in kissing Matty that you hadn’t even realized the loss of him until his hand that had been wrapped around your throat earlier was trailing up the expanse of it just to find a home against your jawline, using his pointer finger and thumb to pry your mouth open just as he was pulling away from your mouth. 

Your eyebrows didn’t even have time to furrow in confusion before Matty was bringing his fingers that shined proudly with you up to your lips. “Gotta clean me up, baby.” Matty explains, a wicked glint in his eye as he teases. “Can’t go back inside to the boys with you all over me.”

You greeted his two digits with a wide tongue, drawing them in greedily. Matty groans at the sight, at the feeling of your tongue swirling over his fingers as you moan around them. Your core clenches at the idea of going back inside and pretending like Matty wasn’t just choking you out in the alleyway, but the more you think about it, the longer you swirl your tongue around Matty’s fingers, the more you realize that you weren’t quite ready to go inside. Not yet. Not until you fulfilled your other desire of the night, you had finally got his hands on you, now it was time for you to get your hands on him. 

The weight of his fingers on your tongue wasn’t enough, you needed something heavier, thicker, you needed Matty’s fingers out of your mouth so they could run through your hair while you swirl your tongue around something else. 

“More.” You mumble around his fingers. “Need more.” You pull off his fingers in favor of licking a thick strip up the side of them instead, already feeling rather powerful from the way Matty’s eyes widen slightly at the sight, at the groan that tumbles from his bitten raw lips. “Want more.” You kiss his fingertips, fixing him with doe eyes that you hoped would get you everything you wanted. “Want you.”

Matty swallows thickly, clearing his throat, making a poor attempt to take his hand away but you’re quick to reach out and stop him. Your stomach flips at the fact that he kept it in place when the both of you knew he was strong enough to pull away if he really wanted to. 

Matty shakes his head slowly, not really trusting his voice to speak, feeling more drunk on the sight of you pouting before sucking his fingers back in your mouth than any of his Jack and Coke’s had made him feel that night. You suck on his fingers as if you were trying to show him how you could perform somewhere else and Matty’s resolve was very quickly weakening, nearly ready to say fuck it and throw you up on the wall like he had just admitted to wanting to the day he tattooed you.

But he couldn’t, not when there were three men inside who were surely racking up drinks on his tab and waiting for the two of you to return so they could get to know his girlfriend who was currently deep throating two of his fingers. 

“You can have me later, baby, any way you want me.” Matty promises, pinching your hip at the feeling of your teeth grazing over his knuckles in protest. “I don’t have time to fuck you how I want to right now.” And thrill creeps up your spine at that, filthy images of the endless possibilities swirl around in your mind as deliciously as your tongue does around his two fingers. “How you deserve it.”

You pull off Matty's fingers with a kiss to his fingertips and a pout, running your manicured nails up the side of his neck and causing goosebumps to rise along your path.

“Please, I need you.” You beg, desperate to scratch the itch that had been burning under your skin for so long that you were surprised you hadn’t melted yet. “Let me suck you off, please. I-I’ve wanted to all night.” You should have been embarrassed by how eager you were, how shameless you were being, but when Matty was letting out a groan that showed how affected he was by your words, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. “Almost crawled under the booth earlier, would have if George hadn’t been sitting there.”

Matty’s spit soaked fingers are quick to wrap around your jaw at that, spreading your spit all over your chin as his fingertips dig into your jaw in a way that had you feeling lightheaded all over again. You couldn’t help but moan at the way he was handling you, staring down at you as if he was trying to assess what to do with you, his dark eyes scanning over every inch of your face as his fingers dig meanly into your jaw. 

“Fuck, you want it so bad, don’t you?” Matty’s voice is deep, rough, gravely. The sound of it had a new wave of arousal pooling in your already ruined underwear, your empty core clenching in desperation, desire climbing up your spine. 

“Please.” You attempt another beg, this one was nothing short of pitiful, your manicured fingernails digging into the base of his neck as you find it in yourself to tease. “It won’t take you that long to finish, I could’ve been done already.”

Matty grips your jaw harder at that, a dangerous look in his eye as he warns. “Watch it.”

You smile through it all, lazy and fucked out, allowing the bratty comment to get to your head and make you feel more confident than before. You knew your boyfriend well, and while he did have a stamina that was rather impressive, he never lasted long when your mouth was around him - especially if he had been drinking that night. He was a simple man, after all. 

You bat your eyelashes up at him, innocent and pretty, the sight only makes his fingers fall from your jaw in favor of wrapping around your neck instead. You moan around his hand, sure that he could feel the vibrations of it from his palm pressed to your throat, positive now that he was about to give you what you wanted. You smile as if you had already won and Matty couldn’t help but squeeze your neck a little tighter at the sight before finally folding. 

“What I already gave you wasn’t enough?” Matty tilts his head to the side, condescending as ever, clutching on to what little power he had right now. 

You shake your head softly, as best as you could with his hand wrapped around your throat. You felt even more desperate for your boyfriend now with an orgasm under your belt than you had inside of Lucky’s earlier, making you wonder if you were actually more desperate to get your mouth around Matty than you had been to get his hands on you - your cheeks flush pink at the thought. 

“No? So fucking desperate for me that you need to get on your knees in the alley?” You moan, broken and pleading, digging your nails into the base of his neck harder to mirror the pressure he was squeezing your neck with. “Yeah? My baby needs my cock that bad?”

“Please.” The familiar word falls in a pitiful mantra off of your tongue, your hair surely tangling from the way you were nodding against the brick wall. “Please let me, I need it.”

“Fuck, okay.” Matty finally snaps, not able to hold himself off any longer, surprised that he even lasted as long as he did. 

Matty uses his hand around your neck as leverage to pull you in for a kiss that couldn’t be described as anything other than downright filthy, his tongue melting against your own as his hand leaves your throat in favor of falling to your hips. 

You felt dizzy from the kiss Matty had fixed you with, dizzy from the fact that you were finally about to get what you had been so desperate for all night long, not wanting to waste another second before dropping to your knees and taking him down your throat.

Your hands fall from his neck in favor of finding a home at the waistband of his black jeans, skilled fingers that popped open the button blindly, having had enough practice that this was like second nature to you. Muscle memory as Matty had called it earlier. 

Matty groans into your mouth and you swallow it happily as you drag the zipper of his jeans down, your manicured nails trace over where you knew a rose had been tattooed on his hip, digging in slightly and causing another groan to fall from Matty’s lips. You couldn’t help but smirk, pulling away from the kiss through heavy breaths and a pounding heart, staring up at Matty with glassed over eyes full of desperation. 

And with the way Matty was towering over you, the fact that his pants were already open and inviting, you couldn’t take it anymore. You were ready to drop to your knees and fill your mouth with something other than Matty’s fingers, though you barely move an inch before Matty is reaching out to stop you. 

“Wait.” His voice is deep, strained, conveying how fucked out he already felt when you hadn’t even touched him yet. 

You let the power go to your head while dread seeps into your veins at the idea that maybe he was stopping you, maybe you weren’t about to get what you wanted after all, maybe he was going to make you wait until the two of you got home later. 

You didn’t like the idea of this at all. 

You had a plethora of pleas sitting on the tip of your tongue, ready to beg and whine until Matty let you have him, but they quickly die there when you realize that Matty had no plans of stopping you at all - only a temporary pause to make things more comfortable for you. 

You watch closely as Matty slips out of his leather jacket in quick movements that you could barely keep up with, your eyes immediately fall to drink in the stretch of his tattooed arms that were now on full display for you, the sight makes you that much more desperate to fall to your knees. 

Matty tosses the black leather to the ground, leaving the inner lining of the jacket facing up between the two of you. Your stomach flips at the sight, glancing up at Matty with curious eyes and a racing heart. 

“Don’t want your knees to get all scuffed up.” Matty explains and you couldn’t help the way your heart skipped a beat at his admission, your fingernails digging into the rose on his hip as butterflies swarm in the lake of fire that burned in your stomach. 

That even through the thick cloud of tension, desire and desperation that Matty still cared so deeply for you, that you were always his first concern, that he loved you. So much so that he was about to let you settle over his leather jacket so you could blow him in the alleyway of the dive bar where all his friends were sitting inside waiting for the two of you to return. 

The thought has you more than ready to gag all over him.

“Well, don’t just stand there.” Matty’s deep, raspy voice pulls you out of the daydream, reaching out to rub his thumb over your bottom lip - pulling it down in a way that makes your heart race. “Get on your knees before I change my mind.” 

The authoritative tone he used to speak the warning has you rushing to fall to your knees in an instant. Matty groans at just the sight of you on your knees below him, your bare legs folded in contrast over the black leather of his jacket as you settle into a comfortable position, your siren-like eyes staring up at him. 

You couldn’t help but let the sound to inflate your head, feeling as though you held all the power in the palm of your greedy hands that ran up the expanse of his jean clad thighs that twitched underneath your touch. You allowed the sound of Matty’s heavy breathing to fuel your hands up the path of his thigh to where you had already unzipped his jeans.

You run manicured nails under his shirt, scratching his lower stomach softly before dipping your fingers underneath the waistband of his boxers, pulling back just enough to snap the band against his hip. Matty’s hips jump at the feeling and you couldn’t help but smirk at the sight, a gesture that Matty mirrors as he stares down at you. 

“Need help?” Matty’s voice is deep, rough, the sound shoots down to your core. It’s almost as if snapping the waistband of Matty’s boxers against his hip had snapped him back into reality, as if it had breathed life back into him, awoken the degrading and dominating side of your boyfriend that you knew all too well. “Too fucked dumb to take my cock out yourself?”

You could feel the power you held slipping from your fingertips as you watched Matty trail a tattooed hand down the expanse of his own stomach, you felt drunk on the sight of ink and veins and nearly pout when his hand disappears underneath the waistband of his boxers, already missing the sight. 

Though you didn’t have to miss his hand for long, Matty was quick to free himself from confinement, a sharp hiss falling from his mouth and you were unsure if it was due to the air hitting his length or the feeling of his own hand running along it. Jealousy seeps into your bones at the sight of him pumping himself slowly, surely putting on a show for you with the way he was tossing his head back and groaning at the feeling, your fingernails dig into his thigh - a silent plea that only spreads Matty’s smirk wider. 

“You know, for a girl who was so fucking desperate to get my cock down her throat, you sure are wasting a lot of time.” Matty teases, swirling a thumb over his tip and moaning in a way that had your core throbbing. “Don’t have time for you to tease, I'm more than happy to take care of this myself.” 

You were pouting and whining out a protest before Matty could even finish, shifting on your knees over the lining of his leather jacket and sliding your hand further up his thigh in hopes to take over for him but Matty doesn’t allow it, wanting you to suffer in watching his veiny, tattooed hands pump his length for a little while longer. 

“No? You wanna do it for me?” The condescending tone drips from his rough voice, the smirk on his face is spread wide and his eyes blown dark. 

You nod, quick and pitiful, straightening your back as if that would deem you more worthy. His head tilts to the side, a stray strand of hair falls with it, his eyelashes flutter at the feeling of his thumb swiping over his tip yet again. 

“Well, you sure aren’t acting like it, baby.” His dark eyes scan over your face before ultimately falling to your lips, his foot comes out to knock against your knee softly. “I can’t fuck a closed mouth.”

Arousal runs down the expanse of your spine and settles in the heat of your core that clenches involuntarily at his words, they snap you back into reality just as the waistband of his boxers had done to him earlier. You stare up at Matty with eyes that were surely glazed over and desire filled, your heart pounding to beat out of your chest as you slowly open your mouth for him and stick your tongue out wide in an invitation for him. 

Matty groans at the sight of you, sliding his hand down his length to take hold of his base, he slaps his tip against your tongue once and your core throbs at the feeling. You knew better than to be greedy, you knew to take whatever Matty was giving you, he was testing you.

And while history shows that normally you didn’t care to misbehave, to be a brat, because it always got you what you wanted anyways - right now you couldn’t help but be perfect for him. To kneel on his leather jacket in a dimly lit alleyway with your tongue out, hopeful that he’d finally give you what you’ve been so desperate for all night long. 

“Look at you, being such a good girl.” Matty brags and you nearly preen, blinking up at him with a silent plea that has a smirk twitching at his bitten raw lips. “Such a rare sight for you to behave, I just wanna soak it in for a little while longer.” 

You knew Matty was pushing you, testing to see how long you could last in this newfound desire to be good for once, but you couldn’t already feel your resolve weakening. As you stare up at your boyfriend and take in the sight of him - tattooed arms, disheveled hair, the weight of him on the tip of your tongue, you couldn’t help but want to wrap your lips around him and suck him dry.

But you had already lasted this long, you knew he’d be too happy to see you fail now, you were determined. 

Lucky for you, Matty’s resolve was always growing weaker and weaker the longer he stared at your open mouth, your wet tongue, the desperation in your eyes. He slaps his tip against your tongue once more before clearing the groan from his throat, gripping the base of his cock in preparation to lead him home. 

“Such a good fucking girl, the one time I didn’t ask you to be.” Matty speaks through a rugged tone, practically panting as he finally slides his length against your tongue until he’s deep enough to order. “Close.”

You were quick to obey, wrapping your lips around his length and instantly moaning at the feeling of the weight on your tongue, something you had craved so badly all night. You wanted to suck, lick, gag all over him - but you had been doing so well. You didn’t want to disappoint now. 

You stare up at Matty with a mouth full of him, hopeful that your eyes would work on him right now as easy as they did in your normal day to day life, overjoyed to know that they were just as effective now as they were when you were asking him to just go get takeout instead of cooking a real dinner that night. 

Matty gives in, as he always did, rolling his hips in an experimental thrust down your throat - a thrust that has you moaning around his length and has him tossing his head back at the feeling. He groans, “Fuck.”

Matty’s hands naturally find a home in your hair, tangling his fingers that sported chipped black nail polish through your already tangled hair. He gives the strands a tug and has you thrumming with the need to blow him dirty, messy and fast - just the way he liked it. The way he wanted it, it seemed, if his next words were anything to go by. 

“I didn’t ask you to be a good girl, because I don’t want you to be.” Matty explains, wrapping his fingers tighter in your hair and tugging you a little further down his length, you swallow around him on instinct and don’t even feel guilty about it. 

This whole time you thought Matty was testing you to see if you’d be good for him, how long you could be good for him. You were waiting for him to reward you for being so well behaved when in reality he was waiting for you to misbehave, to disobey, to be a brat because that’s exactly how he likes you to be. 

“When I’m filling up that pretty mouth of yours and you’re taking me down your throat, I don’t want you to be good.” Matty emphasizes with a shallow thrust, staring down at you with a wicked smirk and eyes to match. “I want you to be fucking filthy.” 

You moan around Matty’s length at his words, your empty core clenching around nothing as a new wave of arousal pools in your already ruined thong, his admission swirls around in your hazy mind and fuels you to finally take control. No more waiting, no more patience, no more being good - only fast, messy and filthy as you take Matty down your throat with a newfound fire under your ass. 

“Fuck.” Matty groans, choked off as you swallow around him, his blunt fingernails digging into your scalp. “There she is, there’s my good girl.”

You felt dizzy from Matty’s backwards definition of what defined you as being good, your core throbbing to the beat at which your head bobbed up and down his length, feeling drunk on the way his tip hit the back of your throat and the sound of his moans that would follow. 

You stared up at Matty, watching the way his face would crumble in pleasure when you would swirl your tongue around his tip before chasing the veins of his cock back down to the base, pumping what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. 

Matty was like putty in your hands, wrecked moans falling from his bitten raw lips at the feeling of the cool metal band of your rings sliding against the base of his length while you swallow around him. His arm comes out to hold onto the brick wall behind you for support, his knees already weak and unstable from the pleasure you were bringing him, you moan at the way his muscles stretched in this position and Matty groans at the vibrations that roll through him. 

Maybe it was the alcohol still faintly buzzing through your veins, maybe it was the way your ears were ringing from how intensely your core was already throbbing with need again, or maybe it was the fact that Matty had admitted to enjoying how much of a brat you were. Whatever it was, you found yourself shifting on your knees on top of his leather jacket and slowly pulling off of his length with a kiss to the tip and eyelashes that batted up at your boyfriend innocently. 

“You close already?” You tease with a smile, your hand covered in rings continues to pump him slowly while you lean in to run a wide tongue against the underside of his cock. Matty curses under his breath at the sight and the sound only spreads your smile wider, making you feel powerful enough to tease further. “I told you it wouldn’t take me long.”

“Don’t pretend like you weren’t about to cum all over my thigh two seconds after I pulled you out here.” Matty reminds through rugged breaths and shallow thrusts that meet the pace you were pumping him with. “If I were you, I’d fill that pretty mouth of yours up before you get yourself in trouble.” Matty warns as his fingers tighten in your hair. You thought he was using it as leverage to pull your mouth back on him, but in reality he was tilting your head back so that he could get a better look at your face. “Open up.”

And really, you should have been embarrassed by how quickly your mouth was falling open, your tongue with it. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to feel embarrassed at all when Matty was leaning down to spit inside of it with practiced precision that makes heat shoot straight down to your aching core. You moan at the feeling of his spit hitting your tongue, and while you were sure Matty was expecting you to swallow it, you couldn’t help but close your mouth and adjust your head back into its normal position before glancing up at him and allowing his spit mixed with your own to dribble from your mouth and over the head of his cock. 

“Oh, fuck me.” Matty groans at the sinful sight of you, his hand against the brick wall behind you curls into a fist as he fights of the urge to fuck your hand that was spreading the mixture of spit over his length, making him as wet and sloppy as your mouth had been blowing him. 

It didn’t take long for you to miss the feeling of him in your mouth, quick to slide your lips back around him and hollow your cheeks in a way that had his dark eyes rolling back. You suck him off quick and messy, bobbing your head to the throbbing beat of your core that ached with a desire for him so intently that you’d never guess that you already had an orgasm under your belt. 

But you couldn’t help but be desperate for him, with the way he was moaning right now, fisting your head, head tossed back as you swallow around him - it was impossible not to. You felt dirty, slutty, on your knees over Matty’s leather jacket, sucking off your boyfriend who was still sweaty from playing on stage. In an alleyway nonetheless, right out the back door of Lucky’s where anyone could come out to smoke and catch the two of you, catch the sight of you drooling all over Matty’s cock. 

You moan around his length at the thought, shifting on your knees in a poor attempt to relieve some of the pressure between your thighs, tracing a vein on the underside of his length with the tip of your tongue as you allow your mind to run wild. 

“You like this, don’t you?” The deep drawl of Matty’s voice pulls you out of the filthy fantasies in your head, almost as though he could hear exactly what you were thinking, as though he could sense how desperate you already were again so soon after falling apart under him a few minutes ago. “Yeah, I bet you do.” Matty answers for you, cutting himself off to moan at the feeling of your tongue swirling around his tip. “Bet you’re fucking dripping just from knowing that anyone can walk out here and see my little groupie slutting herself out to me.”

Matty’s filthy mouth caught you so off guard that you lost focus for a beat and ended up gagging over him. You were quick to pull off Matty's cock, a line of spit connecting his tip to your bottom lip that you break up from your hand coming out to pump him in your absence as you fight to catch your breath and whine. “Fuck, Matty.”

Your voice was more hoarse than usual, your throat sore from the way he was sliding down it, panting in the dark air of the alleyway as Matty took his hand off of the brick wall behind you in favor of pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail. 

“You okay?” The concern is clear even through the desire etched in his deep tone, his dark eyes scanning over your face as you nod quickly, hissing when you swipe a thumb over his tip. The feeling has him falling back into his patronizing role from before. “Poor baby, begging to suck my cock when you can’t even take it all without gagging.”

And while you know Matty was only teasing, patronizing, talking to you in a condescending tone just to make your head spin - it still lit a fire under your ass to prove him wrong.

You glare up at him before taking back control, leaning in with a wide tongue to lick along the expanse of his length in a way that had his hips stuttering, you couldn’t help but smile as you pepper kisses that had what little lipgloss that remained on your lips lingering on his length - only to be wiped away by your swollen lips when you slide him back down your throat. 

Your eyes flutter shut as you focus on the task at hand, bobbing your head up and down slowly as you allow your throat to remember the feeling of him again in preparation of what was to come. You bring your hands up to his thighs to hold onto for support, digging your manicured fingernails into the dark denim of his jeans as you relax your throat and slowly start to take him down deeper and deeper until your nose is brushing against the hair on his abdomen. 

“Fucking hell, baby.” Matty groans, his mouth dropped open, eyebrows screwed in pleasure as he tosses his head back when you swallow around him. His fingers tighten in your hair as tears start to swell in your eyes, you deepthroat him for a few seconds longer before pulling off completely to catch your breath for a beat and then you’re all over him again, doubling your efforts just to hear his guttural moans that proved your point. “Shit, such a dirty fucking girl with an even filthier mouth. Bet you’d spend all day on your knees with my cock down your throat if I let you, huh?” 

You moan around his length, nodding your head as best as you could with Matty’s hands fisting your hair into a makeshift ponytail to keep it out of your face, out of the drool collecting around your mouth. 

The weight of him on your tongue, his fingers in your hair, the filthy words he was spewing off - it was growing to be too much for you. Your core was clenching around nothing, throbbing through a deep ache, One more swirl of your tongue around Matty’s tip and you couldn’t help but trail a hand between your thighs, hopeful that Matty would be too wrapped up in his own pleasure to notice your wandering hand, knowing that he’d be quick to put a stop to you touching yourself and you were too desperate for relief to obey. 

You were determined to keep Matty from noticing your hand that was currently pulling your soaked thong to the side, harder to do when you were moaning pitifully around his cock at the feeling of two of your fingers making contact with your swollen clit. The pads of your fingertips were much softer than Matty’s, they didn’t have a rough edge to them, no calluses. They didn’t feel as good as Matty’s had but it was enough to take some of the edge off. 

Your tongue swirls around Matty’s cock in the same pace that your fingers circled your bundle of nerves, steady and sure - desperate to bring both of you to a release you knew Matty had been fighting off and you were already on the edge of.

You shift on your knees as the pleasure from your hand between your thighs blooms through your core and spreads from your lower stomach up your spine, and while you were trying not to get caught, you could feel yourself slipping more into your own pleasure than Matty’s - lazily bobbing your head up and down over his length while your two fingers swirl heavenly figure eights that have you dripping all over the inside of his leather jacket. 

“Faster.” Matty moans and the sound of his rough voice, that had someone grown deeper than the last time he had spoken, had you coming back down to earth and reminding you of the task at hand. You were quick to obey, swirling mindless circles over your clit as you picked back up the pace with which you were taking Matty down your throat, bobbing your head in quick succession that had his hips stuttering and his head falling back in a deep groan. “Fuck.” The curse falls out in an almost whimper that has your fingers swirling faster over your clit. “I meant on yourself, but that’s feels so fucking good, baby, just like that.”

You couldn’t help the way you moaned around his length, eyes rolling back, at the fact that you hadn’t been subtle at all. Matty had caught you, he knew what you were doing, yet instead of stopping you like he normally would - he was encouraging you. He wasn’t making you take your hand away, he was demanding that you go faster, harder, pushing you closer and closer to another release. You shift on your knees, your empty core clenching in desperation as you follow orders, swirling your fingers over your swollen clit faster than you had before. 

“Look at you, I gave you the permission to be bad and you’re taking full advantage of it.” Matty groans, tugging on your hair as he stares down at you with dark, dangerous eyes. “Touching yourself when you know you’re not supposed to, that’s not what good girls do.” 

You couldn’t help but pull off his cock long enough to smirk, to tease, to remind him, “I know, that’s why I am.” You pump him slowly to keep him on the edge as you lean in to lick a wide strip up the side of his length, holding eye contact with him as you bat your eyes up at him in an innocent manner. “I’m just doing what you asked.”

And then you remembered Matty’s warning from earlier and filled your mouth again before you got yourself into more trouble than you already had, because while Matty had clued you in about how he enjoyed it when you misbehaved, you knew that touching yourself would push his limits. 

Matty tsks, hissing when you graze your teeth against his length, earning you a sharper tug at your hair. “I asked you to be filthy, not a fucking brat.”

You blink up at him with eyes glazed over with tears that threaten to spill down your cheeks, blinking at him in a way that you hoped would make you seem innocent and apologetic but surely only made you seem more sinful and slutty than anything else. 

“But I’ll let you have it, baby, just this once.” Matty swallows the groan in his throat, eyes glued to your hand hidden underneath your skirt, a smirk twitching at his lips as he threatens. “Enjoy it.”

And the implications behind his two simple words told you that once Matty got you home and he didn’t have to worry about someone walking out and catching the two of you anymore, you were in for it. But for now, you would enjoy the pleasure that was swimming in your veins from the way your own fingers worked over your clit, trying to mimic the movements Matty had used on you earlier, while fighting to not fall behind on sucking Matty off. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re dripping all over my jacket.” Matty speaks through a deep groan, his hips rolling forward on instinct at sight of the puddle collecting on the inner lining of his leather jacket beneath you. “Feel good, sweetheart?” You nod as best as you could with Matty’s hands holding your head. “Better than me?” Matty asks through a smirk as if he already knows the answer, he just wants to see you shaking your head, fueling his ego. “No, ‘course not.”

He thumbs your temples and you preen into his touch, moaning around his length as your fingers pick up in speed to chase the familiar coil in your stomach. The closer you got to your own release, the harder it became to focus on Matty’s, you made a mental note to compliment him on his self control when this was all said and done. You weren’t sure how Matty could ever hold off on his own pleasure while making you fall apart multiple times when you couldn’t even last through a blowjob in the alleyway without selfishly making it all about you, but you couldn’t help it. 

Though, Matty didn’t seem to mind, gripping your hair tighter between his fingers as his hips rolled with a little more purpose down your throat now. A wrecked moan rips from his throat and has him repeating the action, cursing under his breath as his head tips back. 

“Baby, fuck, I’m so close.” He practically whimpers through heavy breaths that fuel your tongue to swirl around him in tune with your two fingers between your legs. “You want me to take over?”

And you couldn’t help but feel dizzy from what Matty was implying, using the grip he had on your hair to pull you down his length, the action has a new wave of arousal dripping from your core and collecting in the puddle beneath you. You were sure Matty’s leather jacket would need to be dry cleaned, but you knew your boyfriend well enough to know that after tonight, he’d never wash it again. 

You moan around him, he hisses at the vibrations and you dig your fingernails into his thigh in hopes that it would be enough permission for him to use you as needed to chase his release so that you would have the freedom to focus on your own that was already starting to climb up your spine. 

“Yeah? You want me to fuck that pretty mouth of yours?” Matty groans, his hips already moving to find a rhythm that had your fingernails digging harsher into his thighs, sure that if the denim didn’t serve as a barrier that you’d break through the skin. “You begged to suck my cock and now you want me to do all the work for you?” 

You nod, shameless, as best as you could through the grip he had on your hair. You were thankful for the sinful way he rolled his hips down your throat so that you could focus on your own pleasure - which was always his top priority. And you made sure to take advantage of the freedom he gave you, rubbing tight circles over your swollen clit in a way that numbed your mind and had your eyes rolling back to mirror the way Matty’s were as he fucked your throat raw. 

“Spoiled little thing.” Matty coos, rubbing a soothing thumb against your temple in a complete contrast to how harsh he was tugging on your hair, how rough he was fucking your throat. 

Matty tosses his head back at the feeling of his tip hitting the back of your throat with each passing rhythmic thrust of his hips, rolling his head to the side so he could watch you - the way he disappeared down your throat, the way your wrist worked underneath your skirt, the way your eyes fluttered shut from the pleasure blooming in your stomach. 

“Look at me.” He practically growls, delivering a particularly hard thrust to your mouth that has the tears that had been swelling in your eyes finally falling freely down your cheeks. 

You were quick to obey, fighting through the pleasure to open your eyes and stare up at the man towering over you, doubling your efforts on yourself at the sight of how fucked out he looked, you moan at the thought of how you were sure to look the same - maybe even worse. 

“Oh, god.” Matty whines, his hips stuttering, a sure sign that he was about to spill down your throat. “That’s it, baby, good girl.” The praise has you finding the strength to swallow around him, to run your tongue along the underside of his length in hopes to send him over the edge and with the way his thrusts fall into a sloppy rhythm - you knew he was close. “When you’re cumming all over your pitiful fingers, I want you to look at me and remember that even though it’s not my hand making you fall apart, I’m still the reason you get to cum at all.”

You moan, whine, whimper all over his cock while your core throbs, clenches and aches in desperation to cum. You felt dizzy from his filthy words, your wrist starting to ache from the fast, tight circles you swirled around your clit as he digs his fingernails into your scalp and fucks your throat in a sloppy, messy rhythm that pulled a symphony of sounds from his bitten raw lips that you felt drunk on. 

You stared up at him with tear filled, glazed over eyes full of a plea that you hoped he would take pity on - not quite sure of how much longer you could hold off. 

“Fuck, you look so fucking pretty like this, baby.” Matty speaks through rugged breaths, you preen at the compliment, leaning your head into his hands that held onto your hair like a lifeline as he quickly started to lose himself in the pleasure of sliding down your throat.

It was all growing to be too much for you, the ache in your wrist, the pleasure blooming through your stomach, the pain from Matty’s fingers tangled in your hair, the burn of your throat from his unrelenting thrusts. You felt drunk on desire, drunk on power, drunk on the way your fingers seemed to swirl in perfect rhythm with Matty’s thrusts down your throat. You were more than ready for release, desperate for the permission, thankful when Matty’s filthy mouth kept speaking. 

“You want me to cum down that pretty throat of yours?” Matty groans and you were quick to moan around his length in agreement, desperate to swallow every last drop. “I’ll give it to you, baby. But I need you to cum for me first, okay? Think you can be a good girl for once and do that for me?”

You give a pitiful nod, head swimming down a spiral of good girl, baby and the permission for release. The heat in your stomach was quickly spreading down the inside of your thighs, climbing up your spine and up your throat, so close that you could taste it - though your mind wouldn’t allow the dam to break without Matty to send you over the edge. 

“Go on, then, cum for me. All over your fingers, all over my jacket, be as filthy as this pretty mouth of yours.” Matty groans, giving shallow thrusts down your throat in an effort to hold himself off from spilling down it, wanting to focus on you first. 

You fall apart almost instantly, almost as if it was only happening because Matty had ordered you to, your thighs shook all over the inner lining of his leather as your high rolls through you. You obey his order from earlier, holding eye contact with him as best as you could while fresh tears pour down your cheeks as your bottom lip trembles from the pleasure rolling through you, the feeling of it has Matty’s thrusts picking up pace once again, desperate to chase his own high after watching yours crash into you. 

His grip on your hair is as tight as your core clenches as the aftershocks of your high roll through you, holding your head steady for him as he uses you for his own pleasure, head tossed back in a guttural groan as his hips makes sloppy work of fucking your mouth. It doesn’t take him but a few more thrusts down your throat and a couple of lazy swirls of your tongue around him and his breathing grew heavier, his grip grew tighter, his hips grew sloppier.

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna- Oh, god. Oh, fuck, I-” Matty cums down your through with a gasp mixed groan that shoots straight down to your core, tossing his head back in a sinful way that bared his throat to you, you could see the way his Adam’s apple moved with each passing moan and whimper that tumbled from his bitten raw lips as he continues to fuck your mouth lazily through his high. “Fuck.”

Matty groans, fucked out and breathless, his dark eyes roll back softly at the sight of you slowly pulling off of his cock with a gentle kiss to his lip. He was fighting to breathe through heavy pants, hard to catch his breath when you were staring up at him with eyelashes that batted at him in an innocent way as your mouth opened to flash the filthy sight of your tongue covered in his load before you swallow it all down with a smile. 

Matty gives your hair a lazy tug, thumbing your temple gently before dropping his thumb down to your swollen bottom lip, running along the expanse of it in a way that had anticipation creeping up your spine and another round bubbling in your veins. 

But you knew the two of you didn’t have enough time for another go, you had already well passed the time allotted for a typical smoke break, sure that the three boys waiting on you inside knew exactly what was happening out in the alleyway - curious to know if George had been warning anyone who dared to come smoke right now to not even bother trying unless they wanted to be scarred for life. 

The thought has you shifting on your knees and reaching out to accept the hands that Matty offered in assistance to help bring you to stand on legs that wobbled from your high and ached from the position they had been in - though they weren’t scraped up from the concrete, thanks to Matty. Your heart flutters now as you glance down at the leather jacket underneath your shoes, sure that you’d never look at the accessory the same way ever again, you couldn’t help but wonder if that was Matty’s goal all along. 

You adjust your stance and lean down to pick the leather jacket up off the ground, shaking it in a way to clear any dust, or you, off of it before holding it out to him with a sheepish smile that he could only smirk at. 

You were positive that you looked just as wrecked as you felt, with pink stained cheeks and glassed over eyes that had a bit of mascara underneath them from the tears that brimmed your eyes from swallowing his cock down your throat. 

Your stomach flips from the way Matty drinks in the sight of you, his dark eyes trace every inch of your fucked out face in a way that had you knowing that he was also debating if you two could push the limits and go another round. Though, when he starts to tuck himself back into his boxers and zips his jeans once again, you knew that he had also remembered the boys inside waiting for the two of you. But when he accepts his leather jacket from your hold and his fingers linger against your own before he pulls away to slip his arms back through the leather, you knew that he was really considering it. 

You couldn’t help but flush at the sight of him wrapped back up in his leather jacket, a sight all too familiar to you, but this time it felt different. It was different. The same leather jacket he had been wearing the day that you met him was now tainted with the memory of your knees squirming on top of it, your cum soaking into the inner lining. You knew Matty was thinking the same thing if the smirk spread over his face told you anything. 

“I love you.” It’s the first thing that Matty says to you since he was spilling down your throat, your heart leaps up your throat at the simple three words, a phrase you had heard from him a million times but still made you feel as breathless as the first time. 

The sentiment was sitting on the tip of your tongue, ready to return, though Matty steals them by reaching out to wipe the mascara from underneath your eyes. He was gentle, careful, wiping away stray tears and black marks left behind with his thumb while the rest of his fingers held onto your cheek that was fighting not to spread with a smile. 

Matty worked diligently on your face until he deemed you perfect, well, presentable - to him, you were perfect with the mascara stained tears. He thumbs your cheek softly before pulling away in favor of reaching into his back pocket and pulling out the lip products that you had specifically remembered throwing into your purse before the two of you left the house earlier, products that you had remembered reapplying earlier that night after your second Vodka Cran, how had they ended up in the back pocket of Matty’s jeans?

As if Matty could read your thoughts, he gives you a shy grin, his cheeks tinted with the faintest shade of pink as he explains. “I swiped ‘em from your purse when you went to the bathroom earlier.” Matty speaks softly, holding your lip gloss between three fingers and his palm as his pointer finger and thumb pop open the cap of your lip liner. He shrugs, winking. “I figured we’d end up out here.” 

You couldn’t help the way your heart raced, threatening to beat out of your chest as Matty uses his hand holding the cap of your lip liner to hold your face steady as he leans in to reapply the color around the border of your swollen lips.

You felt dizzy from Matty’s touch, the soft and gentle way that he was handling you right now when only a few minutes ago he was spewing off filthy, degrading words that had you cumming twice in an alleyway, the fact that he was reapplying your lip products because he was the reason the color had faded in the first place - all worn off from his mouth and cock. 

Warmth spreads throughout your chest in a different way than the heat that had spread through your lower stomach all night, thankful that Matty had a mind coherent enough to consider things such as fresh lip gloss in an attempt to keep George, Adam and Ross from making crass comments about your rather long smoke break. Because while the two of you were more than positive that the three of them knew exactly what had gone on out in the alleyway, Matty wasn’t too keen on them seeing it all over your face. 

You fight off a smile, not wanting to make Matty mess up, though it was becoming quite difficult to do when he was so focused on the task at hand - swiping your lip liner so gentle across your lips and cursing under his breath when he’d mess up a line and have to wipe away his mistake. 

Matty leans back to check his work, tilting his head from side to side to ensure that he had applied your lip liner to perfection, focusing on the line work as if he had just done a tattoo. You allow a smile to spread softly over your face at the thought, that he was taking the application of your lip product as seriously as when he was permanently tattooing his artwork onto someone’s body. Matty’s eyes leave your lips long enough to glance up at your eyes, a smile of his own tugs at the corners of his lips as he places the cap back on your lip liner, only to screw off the lid of your lip gloss.

“Open.” Matty’s voice was as gentle as the hand he held your face with. 

You couldn’t help the way your stomach flipped at the simple command, spoken in such a different tone than the way he had ordered you to close your mouth around him earlier. You open your mouth softly, barely, enough to give him the proper room to reapply the matching lip gloss to the liner he had just perfected.

Though this task didn’t take him as long as the last, not needing to be so precise with this product as the one from before, swiping the applicator along the expanse of your lips a few times before allowing the addictive smile to finally spread freely over his face as he twists your lip gloss tube closed and shoves the lip products back into his pocket. 

“Well, fuck.” Matty huffs. “I should have kissed you before I did that, huh?” 

And you couldn’t help the giggle that tumbles from your freshly glossed lips at the genuine annoyance in his tone, the smile on your face remains even after the laughter stops, you couldn’t fight it off if you tried. 

“What?” Matty asks with cheeks twinged pink and dark eyes that narrowed slightly, speaking in a teasing tone. “You got what you wanted and now you’re all happy and content?”

And as you stood there, staring at your boyfriend with eyes that surely gleamed, you couldn’t help but feel over the moon for him. You shake your head softly, speaking with a tone to match through a smile that lit up the dim alleyway. “You love me.”

And while it wasn’t the three words that you had planned on saying before Matty had stolen them from your throat, you couldn’t help but voice these instead. Because after the way he handled you, so filthy and degrading against the brick wall or on your knees over his leather jacket in comparison to the way he handled you now, so gentle and careful as he wipes away your tears and reapplies your makeup for you, you couldn’t help but say it out loud to prove that his feelings were as real as his hand wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer to him. 

That he loved you, so much more than you would ever even realize.

“To the moon.” Matty confirms with a grin as soft as his eyes, only needing to look into your eyes for a few more second before thinking fuck it and leaning in to kiss you anyway, a kiss much more gentle than any you had shared that night, you nearly pout when he pulls away too soon for your liking.

“So,” You start, reaching out to wipe away your gloss from his lips before the color stains them, glancing up to look at him with eyes that gleamed in a teasing way. “you’re a tattoo artist and a rockstar.”

Matty snorts, pinching at your hip as his dark eyes roll. “I’m hardly a rockstar.” And you couldn’t help but disagree, wiping off the remainder of your gloss off of his top lip. “We just get together once a month and play here for fun, it's nothing serious.” Matty explains with a shrug, pinching your hip once again with a little more bite this time. “Though, after seeing how you reacted to it, we might make it a twice a month thing.”

It was your turn to snort, hitting his chest softly as you rolled your eyes at the way he teased you for your reaction to him on stage. You had to shake the memory of the way his fingers curled against the neck of his guitar before you got yourself worked up all over again, you weren’t quite sure if you could handle seeing him that way more than once a month. 

“Well, I suppose we should get back in there before they think of any more jokes at our expense.” You sigh, shifting on your feet as you make one last attempt to bat your eyelashes and get your way. “Unless you just want to take me home and go for another round.”

Matty hums, almost as though he was considering it, though you knew your boyfriend well enough to know that you had already used up all of your begging and pleading for one night. 

“I don’t think so.” Matty decides and you pout, your heart already starting to race as Matty slowly leans in to speak lowly into your ear. “But if you can behave, I’ll fucking tear you apart when we get home.”

You swallow thickly, his words serving as a reminder of the unspoken promise he had made to you after your hand had snuck its way under your skirt, thrill shoots up your spine at the idea of what he might do to punish you when the two of you got home later - especially after knowing that batting your eyelashes and begging would do you no good from here on out. 

The anticipation of what was to come made you all the more desperate to go inside and wrap this evening up so you could have Matty all to yourself without the fear of someone walking out into the alleyway and catching the two of you. 

You lean in to kiss him softly, quickly, tilting your head towards the back door of Lucky’s.

“Alright, let’s go inside.” You concede, shooting him a playful wink that accompanies your teasing tone. “I have embarrassing stories to hear.”

[soil-just-needs-water-to-be]

that’s baby girl right there

[soil-just-needs-water-to-be]

i felt that

[soil-just-needs-water-to-be]

You know what no-one talks about enough , being the child of a friend divorce 😂

[soil-just-needs-water-to-be]

i just had an a wild thought , I lied , the first band that got me to wanna be a band apparently wasn’t t75 , it was The Kaiser Chiefs THEN t75 😂🤦😂🤦😂

[soil-just-needs-water-to-be]

omg i forgot to say the other day i was introducing my friend to some DriveLikeIDo songs , and his first reaction was “this sounds more like the1975 than the1975 do” and i don’t really know why but it creased me

[soil-just-needs-water-to-be]

(not t75 related)

i knew there was a reason i stopped rewatching shadow-hunters , Alec and Magnus make me actually fuckin sob the end of season three just tears my heart into a thousand pieces repairs it and tears it open again FOR. A. FULL. SEASON

[soil-just-needs-water-to-be]

fighting with my sheets - matty healy

(mdni) in which you discover your boyfriend’s dirty little secret and bring him to his knees. part of the white and gold universe. 3600 words.

warnings: daddy kink, praise, degradation, masturbation, sex toys, sub!matty, oral (f and m receiving)

Matty’s at work when you find it, tucked innocently away under his bed. You’re getting ready for your date and you drop an earring, sending it skittering into darkness. Groaning, you kneel, feeling blindly for it, and your hand bumps against a shoebox. Curious, you tug it into the light; it’s innocuous, plain black and not matching any of the shoes you know he owns, the tape loosely holding it shut practically inviting you to nose through its contents.

Peeling the lid off, you flush siren-red, staring down at the box in disbelief. Your boyfriend’s hidden sex toy collection sits in your lap, cock rings and vibrators and even a fucking fleshlight staring back up at you. Flustered, you shove the box back under the bed, filthy fantasies playing so vividly in your head that you can practically hear his sweet, syrupy moans as he fucks into the toy. He’d be flushed, sweating, taking out his frustrations on the plastic the way he uses you after a long day.

Head swimming, your thighs clench, kicking off your panties and collapsing back against the pillows. Your own collection of toys lives in one of Matty’s bedside drawers, and you retrieve one of your vibrators, pressing it intently to your clit. A buzz of sharp, delicious pleasure rockets up your spine, a moan of his name falling from your lips as you grind down against the toy. You don’t hear Matty until he announces his presence, too distracted by the liquid heat pooling between your thighs. 

“Hi, princess,” he says, and you jolt, heart racing. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” you snap, bucking your hips and moaning theatrically. “C’mere.”

Matty laughs softly, slowly crossing the room to kneel at the foot of the bed. “Don’t be a brat,” he scolds. “What’s got you all needy, darling?” Oh, if only he knew.

What’s left of your brainpower goes on holding your cards close to your chest. “Want you,” you murmur, and Matty clicks his tongue fondly, his hand covering yours at the base of the toy.

“Here, baby, let me,” he urges, leaning down to kiss you as your hand falls from between your legs to your side. He picks up a familiar rhythm, your vision blurring with pleasure as Matty rolls the toy over your swollen clit. “So, so pretty, baby,” he praises. “My gorgeous girl. Fuckin’ dripping for me, yeah? Always so wet for your Daddy. Pretty little slut.”

You squirm, his words swirling together with the dizzying pleasure pulsing under your skin. “Only for you, Daddy,” you promise, pouting up at him until he kisses you again, slowly running the vibrator along your inner thigh as you tremble in anticipation. Matty dials the vibration up a notch, a scream tearing from your throat as he brings it back to your sensitive clit, intense pleasure-pain arcing up your spine.

Heat pools low in your belly, blood pounding in your ears as your heartbeat thrums in your cunt. “That’s right, pretty baby,” he smirks against your lips. “You’re all mine.” Breathing hard against Matty’s mouth, you writhe against the toy, desperate little whines slipping from your lips as your orgasm builds at the base of your spine. “Are you close, darling?”

“Mhmm,” you moan, head hazy. “Please, Daddy. Wanna cum f’you,” you slur out, deliriated and almost drunk on his touch.

Matty clicks his tongue. “We have reservations, baby,” he smirks, pulling the vibrator away from your clit. The loss feels like a physical ache, your body thrashing in protest as Matty kisses you softly and pulls away, wandering off to clean the toy as your chest heaves. “Come on, darling,” he says, emerging from the bathroom and watching you trying to catch your breath. “We’re gonna be late.”

Seething and unsatisfied, you pick yourself up and dress for dinner. It is really lovely, a secluded table at one of your favourite restaurants, candlelight sparkling between you with Matty gazing adoringly over your food, but you can’t help the tightness in your limbs, your short responses. You mull over the events of the afternoon, your thoughts circling around that little box under his bed as a revenge plan forms in your mind.

And you never found that fucking earring.

The ice in your veins thaws the longer you scheme, trading in your folded arms and monosyllabic answers for coy smiles and teasing murmurs of yes, Daddy. You let him lead you home and into the bedroom, trading lazy kisses and grinding in his lap. Matty’s hand trails up your thigh, electricity sparking under your skin under his touch. He still thinks he’s in control, you think with a smirk, pinching gently at your thigh as you put on your best performance of being his good little girl.

“Found something earlier, Daddy,” you say, pulling back and tracing your hand down his chest, slowly popping the buttons of his shirt.

Matty chuckles indulgently, still blissfully unaware of what you have in store. “What’d you find, princess?”

You hop to your feet and pull the box free, opening the lid with a smirk. Swallowing thickly, Matty avoids your eyes, shifting nervously as you settle back in his lap. “Do you use all this stuff, Daddy?” you tease, crooking two fingers under his jaw to force his gaze back to yours. 

“I- I used to,” he stammers, and you thumb gently over one of the spots of red on his cheeks.

“S’okay, Daddy,” you murmur, the power he’s handing you thick in your veins. Something about using the sobriquet while he melts under you feels illicit, delicious as it falls easily from your lips. “Don’t have to be embarrassed. Did they make you feel good?” He only nods, seemingly rooted to the spot as you palm over the growing tent in his slacks. “Can I use them on you? Wanna make you feel good, too.” Shuddering, Matty nods again, and you pout down at him, shaking your head. “Words, Daddy. You should know by now,” you tut, dizzy as you use his words on him this time.

“Fuck, yes, I want that,” he gasps, rocking his hips up against your hand.

You giggle, the subtle shine in his eyes familiar, jaw slack in an expression you’ve seen countless times on your own face. “Can you say please, Daddy? S’polite, if I’m giving you what you want.”

“Fuck, please, angel,” Matty almost whimpers, helplessly needy under your touch. You raise an eyebrow in response, an expression you learned from him. “Want you to… use my toys. On me. Please,” he chokes out, hanging his head.

You smile fondly, pressing a kiss against his slack lips. “Good boy. Was that so hard?” Matty moans softly, shuddering as you pop the button of his trousers. “You like when I call you a good boy, Daddy?” you murmur breathily, the dichotomous epithets tangling together in the air between you, thick with lust and promise. “Can you strip for me, baby?”

Obediently, Matty tugs off his shirt and kicks off his slacks, laying against the pillows in just his boxers. You’ll never get over the sight of him like this, chest heaving and cock hard and heavy between his legs; a pulse of arousal washes over you and drips into your panties. A wet patch spreads near his waistband and you grin as you strip to your underwear and straddle him, grinding against his clothed cock and leaning down to kiss him. Matty tangles his hands in your hair, licking desperately into your mouth and rocking his hips against yours. “You need to relax, Daddy,” you say, smiling softly against his mouth and peppering soft kisses over his jaw. “It’ll be more fun that way.”

“Fuck, princess, I’m–” Matty cuts himself off with a gasp as you slide your hand under his waistband and squeeze him gently, cock twitching under your touch. You ease him out of his boxers, a shuddering groan escaping him as his cock thuds against his belly, flushed and dripping precum. 

“Oh, you want this really bad, don’t you, Daddy?” you coo, pumping him slowly, slick desire dripping from your words. “Always callin’ me a slut, but you were just waiting for your turn to be ruined, huh?” You barely recognise your voice, low and dark and dominating, reducing your boyfriend, your smart, suave, older boyfriend into a whining, pathetic mess with a few scant touches. “Are you a slut too, Daddy?” You’ve played with the power dynamic before; Matty needs to give up his control sometimes, when the stress of his day-to-day gets too much for him, but never like this, never turning his filthy, degrading words back on him. The feeling is addictive.

This time, you don’t even have to prompt him. “Yeah, ‘m… ‘M a slut, baby,” Matty whimpers, your cunt clenching at his words. In reward, you dig your nail into his slit, the tip of your finger coming up sticky and coated with the evidence of his desire.

“Such a good boy, Daddy. You ready?”

You climb off him, retrieving the fleshlight and turning back to him. He sucks in a sharp breath at the sight of your hands wrapped around the toy, hips shifting needily as he gasps out, “Yeah. Yeah, ‘m ready, baby. Please.”

You come back to him slowly, teasingly, but he’s been so good that you don’t want to torture him any longer. Uncapping a bottle of lube, you coat the toy in it, fingers sticky and dripping as you slowly slide it down his length. A shuddering moan escapes him, his eyes glued to the sight of you, whining and bucking his hips into the toy. “God, look so fuckin’ pretty like that,” you moan, grinding your hips down against the bed, bursts of hot pleasure rolling under your skin. “Can’t believe you own all this stuff, Daddy,” you giggle breathily, pinching a nipple through your bra as you stroke him. “So naughty. Did you have to settle for all these toys before you had me?”

“Yeah, I did, princess. Had to fuck a plastic pussy before I found the perfect girl to fuckin’ ruin.” Matty chokes out, his words sending a gush of arousal flooding between your legs. “Fuck, feels s’much better when you do it, baby. My best girl, always takin’ such good care of me,” he moans, hips rolling up into your hand.

One of your hands dips into your panties, arousal dripping against your fingers as you rub slow circles into your clit. Whining, you stroke him faster, his rhythmic gasps and whines speeding. Your gaze is fixated on his cock as it disappears into the toy, slick, wet sounds mixing with your moans in the sex-thick air between you. “God, I fuckin’ love seeing you like this. Love when you get all needy f’me, Daddy,” you moan, grinding down against your hand.

Matty’s whines pitch up, pathetically desperate as he chases his release. “‘M gettin’ close, princess, fuck,” he gasps, his thighs trembling. He looks more gorgeous than you’ve ever seen him, flushed red and shaking, sweat-damp curls sticking to his forehead. He’s a fucking vision, and you can’t resist torturing him a little longer.

“Hold it for me, just a little while longer, ‘kay, Daddy?” He whimpers in protest, hips rolling wantonly, all pretence of rhythm long abandoned. “Don’t you wanna be a good boy for me? ‘M always so good for you.” He musters up a scoff, and you fix him with a glare that makes him press his lips together, subdued. “I deserve it, don’t I?”

“Yeah, princess. You do. ‘M gonna be good, promise,” Matty says, face scrunching with effort as you pump his cock at an almost punishing pace. His breath comes in short, sharp gasps, near-pained.

You tease him a little longer, his sweet, desperate moans falling straight to your core. Matty practically fucking pouts when you pull the toy off, and you scoff disparagingly. “Don’t be a brat. Was gonna let you finish in my mouth, but you can have this fuckin’ plastic back, if you prefer.”

“F-fuck, nonono, ‘m sorry, baby. Wanna cum in your pretty mouth.”

“You wanna, huh?” You click your tongue as he nods, whining and grasping at you. “How bad?”

“So fuckin’ bad, princess. God, I fuckin’ need it, fuck! Please, baby. Let me cum, wanna cum f’you,” Matty gasps, knuckles turning white as his hands fist in the sheets.

You frown, toying with the idea of denying him, revenging yourself for earlier, but he’s trying so hard to be good that you can’t bring yourself to. “Such a slut, Daddy,” you pout. “Gettin’ all dumb for me, huh?” He nods, another whimpered please falling unconsciously from his lips. “C’mon, say it. Say it, and I’ll let you cum, okay?” 

Leaning down, you press a kiss to his tip, licking the salt of him off your lips. “‘M a slut f’you, baby,” he slurs out. “Only you. My fucking girl.”

“Good boy,” you praise softly, taking Matty’s cock in your mouth and swallowing around him. He fists a hand in your hair, gasping and babbling praise as you bob your head, moaning around him. His choked gasp is the only warning you get before he’s spilling in your mouth, pulsing down your throat as you swallow greedily. Pulling off him with a groan, you sit back on your heels. “Taste so fucking good, Daddy,” you murmur, trailing your hand down his cheek with a smile. He grasps at you, taking greedy handfuls of your skin as he tugs you to him. Settling next to him, you grab his jaw and pull him into a slow, indulgent kiss, pressing the taste of him into his mouth as his lips press insistently against yours.

“Felt so fucking good, princess. Thank you s’much,” Matty murmurs, pressing close to you, his skin hot and sweat-slick against yours.

You laugh, carding a hand through his damp, messy curls, Matty unconsciously stretching up into the touch. “Oh, baby,” you croon. “I’m not done with you yet,” you smirk, and he shudders. “C’mon, lay back for me, Daddy. Want your mouth.”

He obeys, laying back as you straddle his face unashamedly. You’re soaked, dripping on his tongue, grinding down with a low whine. Pleasure licks up your spine as Matty devours you, nails digging into your thighs with eagerness. Your cunt clenches, already close to the edge just from the state of him, moaning helplessly between your thighs. “God,” you say, whining when Matty curls his tongue perfectly, heat throbbing in your core. “Love havin’ you as my fucktoy for a change.” His cock twitches at your words, and you chuckle softly. “Oh, you like that, Daddy? You like hearing what’s good little toy you are for me?” He sucks on your clit and you swallow a scream, blinding ecstasy spiralling through your limbs.

You lose your grip on reality the longer Matty tongue-fucks you, lapping at your soaked cunt with fervour. The burn in your thighs aches deliciously, mixing with the pleasure buzzing insistently in the base of your skull. His name tumbles from your lips, over and over as your awareness of anything else slips away. Your head is hazy, swimming in desire, Matty’s tongue swirling gloriously over your clit. “God, ‘m so fuckin’ close, Daddy,” you gasp, circling your hips faster as Matty dips his tongue back inside you. “Oh, my God,” you whine, pleasure coiled tight in your belly. He curls his tongue, mind-wiping pleasure sending you spiralling. You scream, ecstasy pooling in your belly and flooding out over Matty’s lips and chin as you moan and writhe helplessly on top of him. Molten pleasure hammers in your veins, your body loose on your bones as your hands tangle in the sheets.

“God, felt good,” you praise, climbing off him with a grin. “Love that pretty mouth of yours so much better when you’re not fuckin’ running it.” You pull him in for a kiss, greedily licking the taste of you out of his mouth. Indulgently, lazily, you kiss him for several long, blissful moments, Matty’s hands roaming over your body, electricity arcing under your skin to meet him.

“Thank you, baby,” he murmurs against your lips.  “Took such good care of me,” he smiles, flushing slightly and tucking his head into the crook of your neck. Gently, you scrape your nails over his scalp, Matty practically purring under your touch.

“Can you take a little more, Daddy? For me?” you murmur.

He lets out a shuddering breath. “Yeah. F’you,” he gasps, hips shifting against the bed. Lust and trepidation war on his face as you rifle through the box again.

“Good boy,” you praise, slicking up his cock and sliding the toy you’ve chosen down his cock until the ring sits at his base, the little vibrator snug against his length. “Have you ever used this with another girl, Daddy?” you tease, an echo of Matty’s usual words when you try something new.

“N-no,” he stammers, trembling with anticipation. “Only you, baby,” he promises.

You smirk, reaching down to switch on the vibrator. Matty gasps sharply, whining and whimpering pathetically as he shifts his hips against the stimulation. “Good answer,” you grin, lining up his cock and sinking down slowly. A long, low moan falls from your lips, the sensation unlike anything you’ve ever felt, pure pleasure rolling over you in waves. “God, s’like you’re my personal rabbit,” you gasp, grinding your clit against the vibrator and whining.

Matty’s nails dig into your hips, heat rolling up your spine. “Feels s’fucking good, baby, fuck,” he murmurs, bucking his hips against yours, the sweet jolt of pleasure intense as it rockets through your body. “God, s’so much, I can’t–” he gasps.

“Shh,” you whisper, condescendingly pressing a finger to his lips. “I’m gonna use you to get off, and you’re gonna lay there and take it like a good boy, okay, Daddy?” He gives a low, shuddering moan, nodding up at you with wide eyes and a slackened jaw. Slowly, you lift yourself almost all the way off him and slam your hips down, hot pleasure swallowing you whole. Your head tips back, chest heaving as you clench your cunt around him. Matty’s hips buck involuntarily, the sudden change in angle sending pleasure crashing over you.

Your head spins, the vibrations in your cunt working you into a frenzy, hips rolling against him. Obscene moans and slick, wet noises fill the room, your thighs burning gloriously as you bounce on him, heat welling between your legs and flooding your veins. Your body feels like a livewire, anchored to reality by Matty’s hands on your hips, dizzying ecstasy surging through every nerve at once.

Fire coils under your skin, your cunt soaked and dripping over him, your swollen, sensitive clit pressed against the vibrator as Matty gasps under you. “God, you feel so fucking good, princess,” he whines. “Drivin’ me crazy. Fucking– shit!” he hisses, fucking impossibly deep into you, stars shattering behind your lids and euphoria blooming under your skin.

“Fuck, Daddy, m’gonna–” you gasp, rocking your hips as liquid ecstasy drips down your spine. Matty thrusts into you one final time, the coil of heat between your thighs finally snapping. Your legs shake, your body caving in on itself, collapsing into pure bliss. Your vision whites out, whines and moans falling uncontrollably from your lips. A gush of arousal floods out of you, soaking Matty and pooling under you, sticky and hot against your skin.

“Fuck, shit, wanna cum s’bad, need it, baby, please,” Matty babbles, nails digging sharply into your hips as he shudders and bucks against you, whining incoherently. “Please, angel, it hurts,” he begs, eyes wide and pleading.

You croon softly, cunt fluttering with the aftershocks. “Yeah, go on, Daddy. Been such a good boy. Cum for me, okay?” Your words are all it takes, another achingly familiar reversal as he cums, a sound that’s half a cry of your name and half a keening moan tearing from his throat as he spills inside you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, thank you,” he gasps, cock pulsing, hips meeting yours in aborted little thrusts.

Slowly, carefully, you climb off him and discard the toy, your body falling limp against the pillows. You pull Matty in for a soft, gentle kiss, pouring every ounce of the feeling in your chest against his mouth. “How… how was that?” you murmur as you pull back. “Are you feeling good?”

Matty gives a glowing smile, your chest warming at the sight. “I feel fucking amazing, princess,” he says, swollen lips meeting yours over and over, like he can’t resist. “Thank you, baby, really. I’ve never, uh… never done anything like that, um, with a girl, before. Felt really fucking good,” he grins dopily, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. 

You giggle breathlessly. “Now you know how I feel all the fucking time.” You curl into him, savouring the warmth of his skin against yours. “Always take such good care of me after, too. S’my turn now,” you promise, kissing gently at the corner of his mouth and sitting up. “Gonna get you some water, ‘kay? Run us a bath, maybe light some candles, make it nice for you, yeah?”

Matty gazes at you adoringly from the bed as you stand. “Such a sweet girl,” he says, more relaxed than you’ve ever seen him, still and sated and happy, the buzz of energy that perpetually emanates from him finally quieted.

“Only for you.”

[soil-just-needs-water-to-be]

always 🥹🫨 can’t get enough

anyone having sub matty thoughts? let me know 😉

[soil-just-needs-water-to-be]

a request if I may… matty getting mad talking to someone on the phone and girlie is just watching him like😵‍💫😵‍💫 and he takes his frustration out on her😁

content warning: 18+ mdni, smut, p in v, dirty talk, spanking,

this has been going on for a while now: matty walking back and forth through the room and getting more frustrated by the phone call.

“fucking christ,” matty says gritting his teeth, “what’s your fucking damage?”

you’re sitting at the edge of the bed, done with your nightly routine and only waiting for your pacing boyfriend now.

sleep is the last thing on your mind though.

twenty minutes torture. matty’s little rage act makes your thighs ache because you’ve been clenching them together the second he started to cuss and swear.

“that’s not what i’ve been saying bro, fucking listen.”

your eyes stay on the veins on his forearm when he’s running his hand through his hair, letting a groan slip out of his mouth.

you bite your lip watching him, feeling your panties dampen as his conversation continues.

“you can fuck off with that.”

you inhale sharply and matty hears. he thinks you’re annoyed because you wanted to go to sleep right before his phone rang.

he walks towards you and cups your cheek as he mouths a ‘sorry’.

“actually, i’ve got better things to do, mate. calm down, roll yourself a spliff and chill out, will do you good, i reckon.”

matty is still standing in front of you, so close to touch, to do anything you want to do to him. your hands sneak around his body to his back over his soft shirt.

“nah, have a nice one, i will not fucking continue this conversation. jesus, yeah, you too.”

matty slides his phone into his back pocket, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. the tension in his jaw doesn’t ease even as he exhales sharply, muttering something about “fucking tosser.”

“i’ve been a right twat tonight,” he says, his voice softer now, almost contrite. the furrow in his brow lingers, though, like he’s still half-lost in whatever argument just happened over the phone. “sorry it took so long.”

you swallow hard, suddenly hyperaware of how close he is. the space between you is barely there, his knees brushing yours where you’re perched on the edge of the bed. his t-shirt clings to him in all the right ways, the faint sheen of sweat on his skin catching the light, and you can’t help but let your eyes wander.

you watch him for a moment, taking in the way his shoulders are still tight, his hands shoved into his pockets. he’s not looking at you directly, not yet, but the way his chest rises and falls in short bursts tells you he’s still got all that anger simmering under the surface.

“it’s alright,” you say softly, shaking your head. “but do you want to talk about it?”

his lips press into a thin line, and he tilts his head back, staring at the ceiling for a moment like he’s hoping it’ll swallow him whole. “no,” he says finally, voice flat. “you wanted to go to bed, yeah? you must be knackered now.”

you frown, your head tilting. “i’m not, though.”

he glances down at you then, his brow furrowing like he doesn’t quite believe you. “you should be,” he mutters.

you shake your head again, slower this time. “you should talk about it,” you murmur, reaching out to rest your hands on his forearms. your fingers skim over his skin, and his muscles twitch beneath your touch. “it’ll help. get it out of your head, and then maybe you won’t feel so mad.”

he snorts, shaking his head, his eyes darting away from yours. “what’s the point? won’t change anything. and, anyway, you shouldn’t have to deal with me when i’m like this.”

“i don’t mind,” you say, your voice gentle. your thumbs rub small circles against his arms, coaxing him to relax even just a little. “besides, it’s better than letting it fester. you’ll just drive yourself mental.”

he doesn’t respond right away, his gaze dropping to where your hands rest on him. his jaw tightens again, like he’s still debating it, still trying to work through it on his own. but you can feel the way his tension hasn’t eased, the way he’s holding himself so rigid, and you slide your hands up slowly, tracing over his chest now.

“or,” you say, your voice quieter, almost testing, “you could find another way to let it out.”

his eyes snap to yours at that, narrowing slightly. “what’s that supposed to mean?” he asks, his tone sharp, defensive, like he’s daring you to say it.

your fingers spread out against his chest, and you can feel the rapid beat of his heart under your palm. “it means,” you say slowly, your gaze not wavering from his, “you could do something to relieve that anger.”

his brow lifts slightly, and for a second, he just stares at you, his expression unreadable. and then he scoffs, shaking his head like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “are you serious?”

“what?” you ask softly, your voice even, steady.

“were you—” he starts, breaking off with a disbelieving laugh before leaning in closer, his eyes narrowing. “were you getting off on that? me losing my shit?”

your face flushes hot, but you don’t pull your hands away. instead, your fingers curl into his shirt, gripping it lightly as you hold his gaze.

“not like that,” you say quickly, though your voice wavers just enough to make him raise an eyebrow.

“not like that,” he repeats, his tone skeptical. his hands come down to rest on your thighs, his grip firm but not harsh, and he leans in closer, his eyes searching yours. “go on, then. explain it to me.”

you swallow hard, your pulse quickening as his thumb brushes over your cheek. “matty, don’t—”

“don’t what?” he cuts you off. “don’t call you out on it? don’t notice the way you’ve been watching me like you want to devour me. i saw, love. the way you clenched your thighs together.”

you open your mouth to retort, but the words die on your tongue when his lips brush against your neck, his stubble scraping deliciously against your skin. his hands slide up your thighs, his fingers curling against the fabric of your sleep shorts.

“that’s dirty. thought you’re being a nice girl and you want to talk,” he scoffs, “instead you just want to be fucked.”

your eyes roll to the back of your head as he continues kissing your neck and his hands wandering to your upper thighs.

“fuck, you’re warm,” he murmurs, his voice rough in your ear. “and so bloody worked up, is this what my little tantrum does to you?”

you let out a soft whimper, your hands gripping his shirt to ground yourself. “matty…”

“say it,” he demands, pulling back just enough to look at you. his pupils are blown, and his chest rises and falls heavily. “say you like it when I’m like this.”

you hesitate for a moment, but the way his hands tighten on your thighs has you caving. “i like it,” you admit in a shaky whisper. “i like it when you’re… like this.”

“knew it,” he mutters before capturing your lips in a searing kiss.

the kiss is all-consuming, a perfect mix of frustration and desire. his hands wander freely now, sliding under your shirt to grip your waist. you gasp against his mouth when his teeth graze your bottom lip, and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue tangling with yours.

when he pulls back he shakes his head, “you want me to be rough?”

“yes,” you breathe out as fast as possible.

“christ. alright. lay down, get on the bed.”

you nod and scoot backwards, your eyes fixated on matty, who’s already pulling his shirt over his head.

he looks divine. black jeans with a belt and no shirt, his tattoos on full display for you drives you insane. you squirm a bit, waiting for his next move.

he’s taking your feet into his hand, rubbing your skin softly.

“darling, i need you to be absolutely sure and if you don’t fuck with anything i do, you need to tell me.”

“i swear, matty,” you say, offering him a warm smile.

“perfect.”

you watch his face as he carefully and slowly grabs at the fabric of your sleeping shorts, pulling them all the way down.

“gonna let me do what i want to you then?”

“yes.”

his hands find your hips, he's sliding down the bed, just enough so his head is level with your middle, he dips his head down and presses his lips to the soft flesh, his teeth sink into your skin, sending a shiver down your spine, you involuntarily let out a soft moan.

he grips your hips more firmly, almost like you'll disappear before him if he doesn't, he moves his lips to your other hip and nips at your skin, "my fucking gorgeous girl, absolutely filthy for me," he says lowly, his breath hot against your skinz

you whimper softly as both of your hands find the nape of his neck. his mouth moves to the soft swell of your tummy and he nips at the supple skin right above your belly button.

he pulls away and peers up at you, eyes dark and full of lust, his mouth hovers over yours, "you drive me mental, you know that, love?" he whispers fervently against your lips, his fingers squeezing the meat of your thighs.

“i'm pretty crazy about you too, matty," you whisper, his cheeks flush pink at your words, still so bashful. he kisses the heel of your palm before patting the side of your thigh, "turn around for me darling, go on, all fours, need to see all of you," he smirks, his eyes full of intensity as they drag down your body.

you do as he asks and move to the middle of the bed, flipping onto your knees and walking your hands out in front of you, arching your back slightly and hiking your up ass in front of him, he moans at the sight.

"just like that," he praises softly behind you and your pussy throbs, a familiar sticky heat pools in your panties at his words. you playtully take a glance back at him, his eyes dark and half-lidded as he sits up and moves to his knees behind you, his hands run up the backs of your thighs all the way up until they meet the globe of your ass.

"look at you, so fuckin' perfect," he murmurs, oggling the curve of your ass as his index finger sneaks under the lace trim of your panties, taking the material between his forefinger and his thumb and lightly skimming his fingers down the lace, "jesus.”

matty scoffs, “s’kind of pathetic. drenching your little panties because i’m angry.”

his fingers roam down to your covered slit and you let out a soft gasp, which only spurs him on, he runs his fingers along the wet spot on your panties, smirking when he feels the wetness staining your panties, the tips of his fingers dip below your clothed slit,

"that’s my girl though, right? always so fuckin' wet for me.”

it should embarrass you, how easy you are for him but it doesn't because it's matty and knowing how much he revels in this, in you makes that small pinch of embarrassment fade away instantly...every single time.

you risk a look at him over your shoulder as he pulls his finger back out and in one swift movement he puts his finger between his lips, quickly sucking your arousal off his finger, like it's a mindless, habitual thing for him.

his hands reach for the waistband sitting on your hips, pulling the lacy fabric down, marveling at the dark fabric against your skin as he slowly drags the material down your thighs, his eyes catch the wetness soaking the lace while he pulls them down and he moans shamelessly.

“such a pretty cunt, darling.”

your eyes widen while you watch him bunch up the material and shove the lace in his back pocket and then his hand lands an affectionate smack to your ass, "eyes forward, i won’t say it again."

you tear your eyes away as he brings a firm hand to the small of your back, pressing you down and deepening the arch to his liking, you instinctively drop to your forearms- so pliant and needy for him-he brings his mouth down and sinks his teeth into the lush of your ass in approval.

“fucking christ,” he groans behind you, “you’re so easy. gonna let me do what i want to you just because you’re needy, pathetic.”

his hands grab your inner thighs, spreading your legs, now he has full sight of your glistening core, two thick fingers stroke through your folds.

"you’re a mess, darling, look at that- you’re dripping down your legs.”

his words make your cunt throb, you can't help the whine you let out, "matty, please."

matty laughs, “you’re a fucking beg. what do you want?”

"i need you, please do anything, please," you mewl, not caring how pathetic you sound.

but still, not enough for matty. a loud wet smack fills the room as he lays a firm slap to your cunt, your body flinches forward, the edges of your vision blurs and your aching, swollen cunt tingles and clenches at the harsh, yet welcomed contact.

he tuts, "that’s it? you need to try better than that, love. beg for it.”

"matty please, i want your cock. i want it," you whine and writhe beneath his firm palm.

"see? s’all i’ve wanted to hear," he cooes, his slick-coated fingers now soothing your folds. “wouldn’t be fun though if we already skipped to the best part, would it?”

he shifts behind you, sliding down off the bed, kneeling on the floor, he pulls you back towards the edge of the bed by your thighs. he tilts his head up just enough to dig his teeth into the meat of your upper thigh, just below the curve of your ass cheek and soothes the sting with a wet kiss.

you shiver, you're aching for him and his mouth is everywhere except for where you need him to be.

“stop writhing around like a needy slut,” he spits out, “you don’t want me to stop immediately, right?”

“no, no, sorry.” you plead, closing your eyes.

matty’s hands come up to grab the meat of your ass, spreading you open and gently pushing you forward for better access, he brings his mouth to hungrily kiss your inner thighs, tasting the sweet, sticky slick coating your skin and a pitiful moan slips from your lips.

“mhm, perfect.”

matty seems to have heard it and that's all it takes for his lips to make contact with your pussy, your breath hitches in your throat as he flattens his tongue and licks a long, slow swipe through your slicked folds, the first one always drawn out and meticulous and just for him.

“oh f-fuck.” you moan.

a pressure already begins to pull taut low in your belly, you're squirming in his grasp but his hands move to firmly grip your outer thighs, keeping you open for him and pressed flush against his eager mouth. he fucking laves at you, devouring and savouring you like he'd never get the chance again.

“such a perfect one, yeah. my favorite taste.”

the vibrations from occasional muffled moans and groans against your pussy make you chant his name over and over like a prayer, even though he's the one on his knees.

“jesus matty," you moan out, your eyes roll back into your head as the coil inside your belly wounds up so tight every muscle in your body tenses. you start grinding your hips back into his face, he groans in response and loosens his grip on your legs, letting you take what you need from him.

it takes a moment to come down from your high, matty not being a help at all with the same pace he has on your clit.

he flattens his tongue against your clit before he closes his lips around it, suckling it into his mouth and moaning around it, the vibrations from his mouth makes the coil in your belly snap, and you cry out, using the sheets beneath you to stifle the noises slipping through your lips.

“fucking god,” you moan, “matty- can’t.”

matty hums a “you can,” and immediately latches on again.

the tip of his tongue works small, tight circles on your clit around and around, only this time with more pressure than before and within minutes or seconds-you don't really know at this point-you feel the pressure building in your belly and it's growing stronger by every lick and suck from his mouth. his tongue flicks over your clit before he licks it into his mouth once more, closing his lips tightly, he gives it one last tight circle of his tongue and suckle to your clit and you break, your second orgasm crashes over you.

“matty,” you moan over and over again, your brain completely empty with thoughts.

a choked moan escapes you, your legs quiver as they threaten to close while your hands fist the sheets beside your head, the grip he has on your thighs holds you open for him while you come all over his mouth and he laps you up, savoring, slurping, and swallowing down everything you give him.

“fucks sake,” he groans, “perfect cunt.”

milliseconds pass and he shifts behind you, lost in the haze of your orgasm, you can faintly hear ruffling as he stands up. he leans forward, kneading your ass in his palms before bending down to lay another bite on your other cheek, this time with more fervor, leaving a mark, your skin tingles.

matty’s hand is on him, stroking himself slowly, while his other hand is touching your body.

“just a little toy for me, aren’t you, darling?” he asks, not expecting an answer, “gonna let me fuck you?”

matty positions himself right against your ass and places his hands on your hips again and squeezes, “talk to me.”

"not like this,” you whine, not daring to look back, “wanna see you.”

“aww,” matty pouts, “you’ve got too many wishes, you know?”

nevertheless he grips your thighs and turns you around so you’re on your back. you’re eyes are staring at him but it seems like you’re not there, your brain feels hazy.

“you’re alright, love,” matty says, leaning down to kiss your cheek.

you can only whine and grip the nape of his neck to receive a proper kiss.

“needy girl,” he murmurs, leaning down to give you a kiss, licking over your bottom lip before tugging it between his teeth.

your sounds are swallowed by his mouth as he keeps kissing you, grinding himself against your thigh.

“can-please,” you whine, stretching your arm out to find his cock, which is already leaking with pre cum.

matty lets out a quiet groan, you can't help but smile at this as you start to rub him between your legs, grabbing his attention back onto the task at hand.

“didn’t say you could touch me, love,” he grits out, “s’like you can’t get enough.”

“i can’t,” you smile, tugging at his hair, “can you please fuck me.”

you’re desperate. how could you not be with matty between your legs, right there.

matty slides inside of you roughly, not slow and steady, not giving you any time to adjust, he’s using you.

“fuck, this what you wanted?” he asks as his eyelids flutter closed.

he’s got one of your thighs in his grasp and he's pushing it up against your ribs as he begins a steady pace with his hips against yours. there’s strings of your slick attached to his upper thighs from your inner legs rubbing against him.

matty notices immediately, “fucking christ, you’re making such a mess, s’heavenly.”

“matty,” you moan, “you- s’perfect.”

“yeah?”

matty brings his right hand back down to continue flicking your clit back and forth with his wet fingers.

you bite down on his shoulder. your propped up foot thuds softly against his back as the other one grips onto the sheets.

"feel nice?" matty asks into your hair as you bite down onto him, “fucking enjoy yourself?”

“feel so perfect," you whine against him. "jesus, so good,” you slur.

his weight is pushing you down so you can't wiggle away from any of the stimulation he's giving you. it accumulates quickly and, just laying there and taking it, you don't get enough time to warn him you're close.

you’re clenching around him uncontrollably, rolling your eyes back and clawing your nails into his shoulder blades.

“let me have it, come on,” he groans, rutting into you as deep as before, “come for me.”

he fucks you harder, his pace frantic. "such a perfect cunt, darling." he groans, dipping his head into your neck to nip at your skin. “my gorgeous girl."

"oh, god, matty..." you cry, your orgasm quickly approaching, unable to stop it no matter how much you want to prolong the feeling.

it doesn't take long before your orgasm crashes over you, pulsing through you in waves, back arching off the bed as you reach out for anything to ground yourself. hands finding the back of his head, pulling him into your chest.

“just like that, perfect, darling.”

he follows soon after, his cock pulsing inside you as he empties himself into you, collapsing on top of you, his chest heaving.

“fuck,” he exhales, moving one more slow time again to torture the both of you.

you’re overstimulated, your legs hurting so good there are tears prickling in your eyes. you brush your hands over matty’s shoulders and back, humming as you try to love on him.

“you still angry?” you ask, smiling to yourself.

matty groans when he lifts his head to look at you, stealing a quick kiss, “nah. unless you want me to be,” he jokes.

“give me a break,” you giggle.

“i love you, darling,” he murmurs, sliding out of you, hissing at the cold air.

you scrunch up your nose in pain, your ass, thighs and the skin between your legs hurting real good.

“i’ll draw you a bath, don’t worry, love.”

you enjoy this the most. matty being the sweet boy you’ve known forever, his only mission to take care of you.

[soil-just-needs-water-to-be]

[soil-just-needs-water-to-be]

might start writing again to fill the void off missing being in a relationship or in love with someone so keep an eye out !!

[soil-just-needs-water-to-be]

i just wanna love on someone and be a good boyfriend for someone atp man ❤️

[soil-just-needs-water-to-be]

needs to be done

💙💙💙

any queer brothers or sisters out there that need someone to talk to or grieve to just know i’m here

#💙 #illfightwithyou

[soil-just-needs-water-to-be]

introducing mate to The 1975 (idk if it’s the girls on the song or them ) but she’s living 😂

[soil-just-needs-water-to-be]

drunk m loved the 1965 more than sober me and that’s worse uh oh