#matty healy x fem reader

[hrryshoney]

no. 1 party anthem

matty healy x photographer!reader

A/N: lowkey projecting bc im a photographer/videographer❤️ this is set during like self-titled. if u could tell. named this after the AM song bc i think it fits (the bridge of this song is so them coded) this is unnecessarily long (6.1k words) but anyway Enjoy

warnings: smut 18+. um fingering, p in v unprotected sex, oral (m and f receiving), masturbation a bit? (male), degradation, praise, use of a camera during sex, Sir kink, exhibitionism (kinda), sex on a couch, light choking/slapping (blink and miss it!), probs more kinda filthy etc..

Today was shit. Complete and utter shit. Your alarm didn’t go off, you spilled coffee all over yourself, had to go home to change, and you were going to be late to your first clients appointment. It’s only 8:30, and you could already tell it was going to be a bad day.

Your first client was booked at 7:45. You only had four appointments today. Normally, you’d be a bit more booked out. But, your last clients would take up more time than usual. An up-and-coming band you heard, that were quite popular already. Their management had informed them about your local studio, and an appointment was made.

Upon walking into your studio promptly at 8:00, you saw that your best friend was stalling for you. She had your first client engulfed in mindless conversation. God love her, Lexi knew how to keep a crowd entertained. Really, showing up 15 minutes late wasn’t a good look. You were glad she was here to null some of the damage.

As you walked up to them, you caught the tail end of her gossiping, no doubt. You placed your hand on Lexi’s shoulder, startling her out of conversation. “Oh! Let me get out of your way. I was just telling Christian how my last shift at the diner was absolute madness. As always, though. He’s all checked in. Have fun, hope the shoot goes well!” You shot her an appreciative smile, then an apologetic one to Christian.

Stepping out of the lobby and leading him to the studio, you were face to face with him. “I am so, so sorry I kept you waiting. This morning was one from hell, for sure.”

“It’s alright, don’t worry. Shit happens.” He smiled back at you, following you into the room.

You were grateful for his understanding, hoping it wasn’t too much of an inconvenience. You prided yourself on being punctual and professional. Thankfully, the studio was already set up for his shoot

You took the lens cap off your camera and began to set up your tripod for some head shots. Flipping the camera switch to ON, you then turned to Christian.

“Let’s get started.”

…

Your next 2 appointments went on without a hitch. They were both fairly basic shoots, nothing too heavy. Your 2nd client was even a regular. She was so lovely. Today she came in to get maternity photos with her husband. Considering how long she’s been coming to your studio, you were ecstatic for her.

You were still a bit out of it and tired though, the effects of your morning not completely worn off yet. You had an hour and 45 minutes before your last clients for the day came in. The band that you’ve been anticipating.

It was 11:34 now, so you were taking this as an opportunity for your lunch break. You decided to go to the sandwich shop that was about a block down from your studio. Walking out of the darkroom in your facility, (some guests preferred genuine photographic film) you spotted Lexi. Still behind the front desk, but now on a stool, slouched and looking at her phone. Mindlessly scrolling, she was kicking her feet back and forth as they dangled from her place in her seat.

“Hungry?” You came up beside her, tapping her thigh twice. Lexi was pulled out of whatever she was watching on her phone, looking up at you. “Mhm, starving. Lunch?”

“On me,” You confirmed, “thought we could get it in before our last clients. They’re gonna take a while, but I’m looking forward to it.” You said honestly, looking out the studio’s glass windows to the street. “Have we ever shot a band?” You use the term ‘we’ loosely. When you and your best friend both got a start, you always knew that you were going to be more hands-on. She didn’t necessarily share the passion for photography, but when she had no shifts picked up for her service job at the local diner, she would pay you a visit. She stuck beside you, and you’re thankful for it.

Lexi does most of the behind the scenes work for you when she’s there, and it would honestly be 10x harder without her. “Don’t think so. I would have remembered that. Every guy in a band is, like, insanely hot.” She hopped off her stool, beat white converse hitting the ground.

“Good to know where your priorities are. Hopefully they’re cooperative.” You wondered aloud, you knew they were young. That normally meant they would be rowdy, too. Four guys around your age was bad news in general, even worse that they’re musicians. “Hopefully they’re hot.” Lexi corrects, too caught up in picking at her nail beds to see your expression.

She had you laughing out loud. Wide eyes and an even wider grin on your face. “Right, extra incentive.” You picked up your keys to the front door that were lying on one of the shelves under the front desk. Checking your watch and walking to the door, you flipped the sign to CLOSED so you and Lex could grab a bite in peace.

…

You and Lexi wasted more time than you thought. You were out for at least an hour, having went shopping after eating. You both decided you could use a new outfit. Not for anything particular, but just to treat yourselves. Then, you traveled back to the studio.

30 minutes until your next client, you still had time to kill. You went to read the email from their management, again. You saw they specifically wanted a couch in their shoot. You should probably set up their studio now. You knew you had an old, black leather couch in the back somewhere. Finding it would be the hard part.

It wouldn’t be in any of your front studios, so you decided to check the last one first. Studio 13, it was more of a storage room now. When you first leased this place, you were pretty sure it used to be a one-level warehouse. You’re never booked to the point where you’re using all the studios, and you don’t have enough staffing anyway. Still, it cleans up nicely.

You end up shouting for Lex’s help dragging the big couch to your front studio. You had already set up a white tarp for your backdrop, knowing it was a pretty minimalistic shoot. As you lug the couch along the concrete floor, the feet of it scraping against it to make a rather brash noise, you began to think the soft, calming music that you queued to combat it wasn’t working very well.

You finally push the last bit of the couch into the studio, dragging it in front of the white tarp. Lexi raised her hand for a high five, which you gladly reciprocate. You look at her with a grin. “Not bad, huh? Little studio we got going.” You both laugh, staring at the quite bleak set.

“Best in town,” Lex returns dryly, she steps out and looks to the front windows. “Those your clients?” Before you even look, you answer. Albeit sarcastically, “And I’m supposed to know, how? I’ve never met these people before.” But the words died in your throat the moment you looked. They had to be your next clients. You didn’t think anyone could fit the bill for ‘band members’ more perfectly.

So, there they were. Smoking and loitering outside the studio. And Lexi was right, because she always had to be. They were hot. No sooner than you think it, the words are coming out her mouth. “Christ, they’re handsome.” All of them wearing some short of black getup, with tight jeans and t-shirts. One boy, with longer, blonde hair, had his sunglasses on with a snapback. She laughs through her sentence in disbelief, a hand coming to her mouth. You can’t help but follow suit.

“Right, well. Even if they are, he best not ash his cig in my flower pots.” You squinted your eyes, the cigarette resting between the boys middle and index figure. Trailing your gaze to his face, he had dark curly hair. A pale complexion with deep brown eyes, cheeks sunken in as he took a drag of his cigarette. The face that, after you finished staring, you saw was looking right at you with a half-smirk. You smiled back and looked to Lex, taking a step back into the front studio. “He saw me.”

“You weren’t exactly being subtle, but oh well. That’s the one you want?” She raises her eyebrows in a tease, a wide grin splitting across her lips. Your face and body heat, eyes widening. “Can you not? I need to be professional. This is the real deal, you know? They’ve got management and everything.” You didn’t wanna blow your shot, you knew this was the foot in the door to bigger things. Cute band members were not taking this one from you.

Your hands came subconsciously to brush at your outfit, looking down at yourself to see if you looked presentable. You could practically hear your best friend’s thoughts, and the smirk on her face. You ignored her.

The bell on your door rang with entrance, and you turned to see one of the guys walking in. He had shorter dirty blonde hair, and you could see one of the others stomping on his cigarette before following behind.

Putting on your customer service smile, you took a few steps back to make room for the 4 men in the lobby. You scooted closer to Lexi, suddenly feeling outnumbered. Four sets of eyes were now looking back at you. Two brunettes, one who had closer to black hair. Two blondes, one whose was longer and lighter.

“Nice to meet you,” You sighed out, their intimidating gazes piercing. “So, um, welcome to our studio.” You introduced the both of you, giving your name and Lexi’s. Gesturing between the two of you with a wave of your hand.

They went down the line doing the same. Ross, Matty, Adam, and George. In that order, introductions exchanged in their thick accents through giggles. The boy you had taken interest in you now knew as Matty, and he was only drawing you in more.

“Well, we can get started on your session early since… you’re here.” You looked to the group, waiting for some sort of approval. You got a couple head nods, and a smirk from Matty.

“That eager to get us in, babe?” He chuckled, knocking his shoulder into his friend’s playfully. You felt embarrassment flood through you, but you led them to the studio with your head up.

“Sure. So, Studio 13. I’ll get a lot of ‘full band’ shots, but your manager said he wanted some solo shots of the each of you, too. Think it’ll be easier to get the group ones now, though.” You told them, wringing your hands slightly.

There was a small murmur of agreement, and you turned around to get your camera ready. Checking your lens, SD card, battery. “Whatever you think, you’re the pro.” Your head shot up, seeing Ross smile reassuringly at you. You returned the gesture and got back to work.

As you walked around the room to flick your lights on, you saw Matty shooting his friend a look. You didn’t think too much of it, but your eyes couldn’t stop finding his face. You were gonna have fun photographing him solo. “Okay, everyone! Get together, pose, do whatever you want. I’ll take a bunch of shots.”

After a few pictures, you stopped. Lowering your camera. “Maybe.. We should get you in the middle.” You pointed at Matty, him freezing in his place at the end of the line. “I mean, you’re just…” You trailed off, hoping he’d get the point.

George spoke up, saving you from having to complete your sentence. “She’s saying you’re the shortest, mate. Get in the middle.” He snickered, hand raising to his mouth to hide his smile.

Matty’s smile dropped, shoving his friend’s shoulder. “Whatever,” he muttered, moving to his new spot. “Better?” He tried to hold back his laugh, but was failing over the sound of his friends chuckles in the background.

Once you got them started, you could see they really were naturals. You assumed their close bond caused them to work so well and naturally together. Joking around, but still getting good shots.

However, this perception faded when you had to go in for the solos. Of course, above anything, they were boys. And they were also making your job a living hell. No matter who you were photographing, the other three were trying to get a laugh. Anything to make their friend break.

Your last straw was when you tried to get a photo of Adam, and Matty all but fell into his lap. You laughed along, (because truly, it really was just a little bit funny), but forced yourself back into work mode.

“Okay, this isn’t working. How about for the solo shots the rest of you stand out in the hallway? And we get a little rotation.” You suggested, trying to make yourself sound as light hearted as possible. Though a wave of whines passed over the group, they ultimately agreed in the end.

Working with them one-on-one was really nice. The two guys you shot so far, Adam and George, were very intelligent and funny. Unnaturally respectful for men your age, and you really couldn’t complain.

You finished both of them up, their mini shoots taking about 15 minutes each. You went back in the hallway you collect another one of them.

Adam and George now stood to the side, leaving Matty and Ross to linger right outside the door. You opened the door, looking at both of them and keeping your palm on the door handle. “Who’s next?”

Ross’ eyes went to Matty’s, about to step backwards and let him go. Then, Matty’s arm shot out to land on Ross’ shoulder. It seemed he tried to give his friend a shove forward, but the most he got out of Ross was a stumble. “Ross will go next. Save the best for last and all that, right?”

You giggled at Matty’s antics, while the rest of his friends let out sighs and eye rolls. Ross mumbled something under his breath, a sarcastic ‘right, sure..’ was the most you caught. You then lead him into the studio, closing the door on your way.

Ross’ session took about 5 minutes more than the others. He was incessantly flirting, making it hard to do your job. And while there was no denying that he was very cute, you knew they were all harmless comments.

You were finding out quickly that the boys were good company. And the shots were all turning out more than great. They were all so naturally photogenic, and the camera loved them. You doubted you’d have to do much editing.

…

You walked out with Ross, on your way to finally bring Matty in. You two lightly chatted on your way out, Matty’s eyes landing on you the second the door opened. He looked at Ross and tilted his head, to which the taller boy only looked down at him and grinned.

You broke the awkward silence, clapping your hands together. “Right, well. Matty, last but not least and all that.” You step back and put your hands up, gesturing for him to step in before you.

Once you finally got him away from the rest of the band and you closed the door, his whole demeanor shifted. Matty turned around instantly to look at you, and you looked down to the floor. You could see his smile through your periphery.

“Okay, so. For the rest of the guys I got a few of them standing and a few of them sitting on the couch…” You trail off, looking around the room. At this point, you’re just desperately trying to avoid eye contact with him. Maybe saving him for last wasn’t the brightest idea.

“Okay,” Matty nods his head, eyes following yours and looking around the studio. “Should I.. get on the couch?” He says offhandedly, a hand coming to hide the smirk that’s blooming on his face.

You feel your face get hot, but you agree anyway. “Um, yeah. That’ll work.” You walk over to the studio light, dragging it in place from where you moved it when with Ross.

After getting the area set up, you turn back to Matty. He’s looking at you expectantly, waiting for direction. “You can just pose however you want. I’ll just take a bunch of shots and there’s bound to be some keepers.” You smile and turn your camera on, fiddling with the settings.

“Have to tell me if I’m doing good, then. Don’t know what I’m doing when I pose, to be honest.” He laughs, moving in his seat a bit. You scoff, still too preoccupied with your camera to realize you did it out loud. “What?” he asks intrigued, still smiling.

“Don’t think you could really look bad. I mean, you’re photogenic and good looking to begin with, so.” You press your lips together, the words flowing out of your mouth too freely. You turn around and walk to a cart that’s in the corner of the room, pretending to grab something from it.

“Yeah, sweetheart? Think I look good?” His smile grows unbelievably wider, not being able to hold back his teasing remarks. You roll your eyes, obviously not meaning the blatant compliment to come out. You come closer to him and he kicks his knee out so it brushes your thigh.

Trying to brush it off, you shrug your shoulders. “You caught me,” You said with the faintest smirk on your face. Taking photos of him flows naturally. He’s just too.. perfect. And though you don’t throw that word around, he really is. You already love the few shots you have of him.

You get down on your knees to take the next picture from a better angle, leaning back on your calves as you do. Matty’s eyes widen and immediately find yours. It doesn’t register in your head what he’s thinking, until you see him shift in his seat.

He doesn’t do it subtly, and you know he wants you to look. You’re no better, so easily giving into temptation. Your eyes drag to his hips, watching the way he lifts himself off the couch momentarily.

“Alright, babe?” He calls, drawing your attention back up to his face. Though, your gaze lingers on his mouth. He winks at you.

“Should I be asking you that instead?” You hide behind the camera, snapping more pictures. You remembered the promise you made to Lexi and yourself. Be professional.

He chuckled, bringing his hands to run them along his thighs. “Only if you’re gonna help me out.” His eyes search yours for an answer, and you can only guess that you look as desperate as you feel. You nod.

His hands run higher, rubbing over the tent in his jeans. “Gonna need your words, then.” He smirks, and you feel so out of control. But it feels nice.

“Yes, please. I’ll help you.” You get up from your spot on the floor, ready to move towards him. Matty’s hand presses on himself harder, and he groans.

“Ah,” He tsks, stopping you in your tracks. “Don’t get to touch me yet, we’re not done our photo shoot.” He smiles, which then gets interrupted with a moan. The only thing you’re focusing on is how he works himself with his hand.

“Please, Matty. Need you.” You’re already begging him, but you don’t dare move from your spot. Because you want to be good for him. You feel the pit in your stomach, and then the pool of arousal in your panties.

“C’mon, take a picture of me baby. Isn’t that your job?” Matty throws his head back, palming himself through his jeans even more. You feel your knees weaken, the camera suddenly heavier in your hand.

You bring the camera up to your face, looking through the view finder. Matty looks sinful. You clench your thighs together and his hips lift off the couch even more, a whimper falling past his lips. You take the photo.

“Knew you’d be so fucking eager. Could see ya eye fucking me since we got here.” Matty starts to unzip his pants, allowing his cock to be less constrained by the pressure. You don’t even think when your finger hits the button.

“Like you weren’t doing the same?” You shoot back, voice coming out breathier than intended. He lifted his hips up, pulling his jeans down past his thighs. He was left in his black Calvin Klein boxers. The imprint of his hard cock very much visible.

He strokes himself over his boxers, mouth parting slightly. “Watch that mouth, thought you were a good girl.” He groans out through gritted teeth. “Come here.”

You obey, of course. Walking straight to him, though your mouth gets the best of you. “Maybe you thought wrong.” You say with an innocent smile, the toes of your shoes hitting his. He grabs your wrist, bringing it to his dick. He moves your hand up and down, letting you feel all of him.

“Wanna be a brat for me, baby? Come on, take me out. I’ve got another use for that mouth.” You reach for his waistband, your camera still in your other hand. He notices the compromising position and takes it from you. You expect him to put it to the side, but he keeps it in his hand. “Get back on your knees.”

You lower yourself down, pulling Matty out fully. He’s pretty. His cock is long and thick, the tip slightly red with precum beading out from touching himself. “So big, Sir.” You look up at him through your lashes, pumping him twice. He whines out.

“Sir, huh?” He smirks, throat gravelly. You work your hands around his length more. Then, you hear it. The camera shutter. You look up, his eyes looking through the viewfinder.

“Can I suck you off?” You bat your eyelashes, waiting for permission. Matty’s hands falter, bringing the camera down slightly. He hums.

“Mhm, take your top off, sweetheart. Leave your bra and leggings.” You pull your hands off him, swiping your shirt over your head. You were wearing a blue bra with lace trim, and it pushed your tits together nicely. Thank you, Lord.

Matty started to pump his cock when your hand left, now working himself faster. “Open your mouth.” You submitted to him, quickly sticking your tongue out. You subconsciously pushed your breasts together with your elbows.

Matty slapped his dick on your tongue, loving the way your moans vibrated around him. He teased you, taking himself away to take another picture. “Please, please Sir.” You rock yourself on your heel, the desperation growing.

“Little slut,” He giggles, pressing his cock into your mouth. Groaning out when you close your lips around him. You could only take a little more than half of him in your mouth, swirling your tongue around his tip.

Your hands came up to work the rest of what didn’t fit. “Made for this, to take my cock.” You whined around him at that. Hollowing your cheeks and pulling off a bit. You say something around him that he can’t make out, and he bucks into your mouth.

Matty’s hand comes to rest on the back of your head, hand tangling in your hair. “Like that? Wanna be my fucktoy?” You nod around him, bringing one of your hands to rub yourself over your leggings. Matty guides your head down on him until you gag, letting you pull off and take a breath.

Tears welling in your eyes, you swallow your saliva and look back up at him. “I’m okay, please keep going. I like it.” You respond to the concerned look in his eyes, and he nods. Before you take him in your mouth again, you spit back on his cock.

“Fucking hell, shit.” Matty moans, throwing his head back on the frame of the couch. He pushes your head down again, making you take his whole cock in your mouth. You don’t gag this time, and he starts to move his hips.

He’s fucking your mouth, and you’ve never been more turned on in your life. You felt your knees starting to bruise, and you rubbed your cunt faster. The only thing separating you being two layers of fabric.

He pulled you off of him, then. Looking at you touching yourself. “Getting off on making me feel good? S’pathetic, baby.” He teased you, and you heard the camera go off yet again. “C’mon, up here. Gonna make you feel good.”

What a gentleman, you think. Not coming before you. The thought makes you giggle, but it’s interrupted by your own shriek when he pulls you onto the couch. He places you on his thigh, grinding you down against him. Your whines are constant and he’s not letting up. “Please, Matty. I want you.” You whimper.

Matty pulls his shirt over his head, throwing it to the side. You state shamelessly, taking in all of his tattoos. They make him even more attractive, and you know you’re only feeding his ego with your wide eyes and parted lips.

He flips your position, and now Matty’s on his knees before you. He pulls your leggings off briskly. Then, you’re only left in a bra and panties. He presses over the wet spot on your panties, and you jolt. He hooks his finger in them, and pulls them to the side.

His fingers run through your wetness, and you’re practically glistening under the studio lights. He slips his middle finger inside of you, but it’s gone as soon as it came. You squirm, needing to feel any kind of friction. He pulls you closer to him by your thighs, spreading your legs wide.

He’s just staring for a few minutes, until you feel him blow a gust of cold air onto your exposed cunt. You scream out, hips bucking off the couch. Matty lightly slaps your inner thigh. “Sh, don’t want our friends to know what a whore you are, right? Giving it up so easy for a guy you just met.” You hear the smirk in his words, his accent becoming thicker and breathing more rapid.

Without warning, he licks a bold stripe up the center of your pussy. You put your hand in front of your mouth, muffling the moans. Matty sees this, however, and has a different idea. He says something without lifting up from you, the feeling of his mouth making your eyes roll back. Finally, he pulls off of you. “Camera.”

You whine, “Huh?” The camera is suddenly being placed in your hand, the weight making you shake more. “Only fair you get some pictures of me. Had your photoshoot, now it’s my turn.” And with that, his mouth is back on you.

Matty licks your clit, pursing his lips and sucking. Your legs start to shake, and he brings his hand around to insert his middle finger in your hole. Your whole body goes weak, the light grip you have on the camera not helping.

Matty continues eating you, and he’s messy with it. You feel your slick on your inner thighs. His tongue goes inside of you, slowly moving in circles. He pulls off again, watching you clench around nothing before shoving his face between your thighs.

Your moans are nonsensical, bucking your hips off the couch and squirming uncontrollably. Matty spits on your cunt, moving his hand to pinch at your clit. “Fuck! Oh my God, Matty. Don’t tease.”

“God or Me, which one?” He laughs, pressing a light kiss to your clit. “You haven’t taken any photos, Miss ‘pro’.” He brings up Ross’ words from earlier, the realization causing you to smile. The smile is wiped away, though, when he runs his two fingers through your slit and puts them inside of you.

Your mind clears, and you finally take a photo. You don’t even bother to check the shot anymore, just clicking the button mindlessly. Matty grins and curls his fingers inside you. His tongue laying flat against your clit.

He sucks on you again, scissoring his fingers slowly. “Mm, please, Sir. Gonna cum, please.” You beg, hoping he won’t take it away from you. That he’ll just allow you to let go. You take another picture, the top of his hair and bottom of your abdomen most likely the only things visual.

“C’mon, baby. Cum for me and I’ll give you what you really want. Fill you up with this cock.” He stutters in his words, and you realize his other hand went down to lightly stroke himself. More precum that he’s been using to lubricate himself.

You cum with a shout, that’s muffled by his lips on yours. Matty swallows your moans, sticking his tongue in your mouth instead. You can barely taste yourself on his tongue, and you ride his fingers through your orgasm. “Matty, Matty. Shit, thank you.” You pant, chest heaving.

“Good girl.” He pats the top of your head condescendingly, snickering. He stands back up to his full height. “Don’t thank me yet, ‘M just getting started with you.” His hand comes behind your back, unclipping your bra and letting it fall to your lap. “Lift your hips up, love.”

You do as he says, letting him pull your panties off. He throws both scraps of fabric somewhere on the grand. His hand immediately going towards your tits. He grabs a handful, and starts kissing down your neck.

“Sir, need you now. Can’t wait anymore.” Matty’s lips attach to your collarbone. He bites you, sucking on the spot. He licks over the red mark, moving to another spot on your neck to do the same.

“You’ll fuckin’ wait if I make you. Do anything to please me, right?” You nod, head rolling to rest on your shoulder. You finally feel satisfied when Matty takes his cock, resting it just above your pussy.

He lines himself up, but never goes where you need him. He keeps bumping your clit, every time making your body twitch. He holds your hip in place, the tip of his cock prodding at your entrance. The only coherent thing coming out of your mouth is please, mixes of Matty and Sir.

He puts his tip inside of you, feeling you clench and then quickly pulling out. You whine, trying to move down the couch and put him back in. “Beg for me if you want it so bad, baby.” Matty is hard, and you know he must be aching as bad as you are. His cock and angry red, you know he needs to give in soon.

“Please! Please, I need it. Need you so bad.” You’re not above begging, obviously. And Matty loved it. He groaned, your wet cunt coming in contact with his dick again.

“Need what? Gotta use your words like a big, or I won’t know.” He rubbed his cock down your slit, pressing on top of your clit. He moved his hips forward slightly, and you squeezed your eyes shut.

You threw your head back, “You! Your cock, Matty. Need it inside me.” You tried to close your legs, clenching around nothing and needing friction. Matty gripped your inner thighs, prying them apart and pressing them to either end of the couch.

He lined himself up with your dripping hole again, slipping inside of you slightly. “Gonna give it to you, ruin you.” With that, Matty thrusted inside of you. He started slow, half his cock inside of you. He was stretching you out so good, letting you adjust. “More,” You grit out, teeth clenching in your head.

“Was gonna give it to you gently.” He pressed more of himself inside of you, watching you shake your head. His hand came up to grip your jaw, making you look at him. “You don’t want it slow, right? Just wanna be fucked dumb.” Matty pushed the rest of his cock inside of you. Finally, you were taking him in full.

“Yes! Yes, Sir.” You feel so whole, so full. It makes you want to scream, and you bring your knuckle to your mouth and bite down. You see Matty reaching behind your head for something, and see him with the camera in hand.

He pulls halfway out of you, and the camera shutters yet again. “Look at the way you grip me, christ. Just milking my cock. He starts pounding into you again, hips slapping against yours.

Matty has a steady rhythm, it feels so fucking good for you. You keep clenching around him, and you’re close again from your other orgasm. “Faster, sir. Please.” You jut your lips out. “Wanna cum.” Matty laughs.

“Thought you wanted to be my toy, huh? Sit so pretty for me and take it? That’s dirty, you know, babe. Toys don’t get to cum.” He pouts at you in faux sympathy, eyes casting down towards you. The leather couch was making you sweat now, his gaze piercing through you.

“Please, Sir. Need it so bad, I’ll be so good. I’ll be quiet.” You whined, hips coming off the couch before Matty’s strong hand pushes you back down. Letting your head fall back, a gasp escapes your mouth again when his hand attaches to your clit.

“You’re greedy. Already came once and begging like a slut for it again.” He presses down on your clit, thrusting into you harder. He does go faster, speeding up his rhythm. Your stomach turns and you know you won’t be able to hold it.

Matty’s hand comes to rest lightly on your throat, pressing his thumb into one of the hickeys. “Cum for me, sweetheart. Let go.”

You do, with a shout so loud Matty doesn’t even bother covering it. He’s too focused on reaching his own release. He speeds up even more, riding you through your orgasm and making you overstimulated. “Fuck, fuck. Good girl. Where can I cum, baby?”

“My mouth.” You say with no hesitation, and he pulls out of you cunt. Matty moves up slightly, and pumps his cock above you. You open your mouth and stick your tongue out, and the visual makes him cum. He throws his head back with a loud moan, letting his cock hit your bottom lip.

You swallow, holding his eye contact. He curses under his breath, picking the camera back up and taking a picture of you like that. Then, one with his thumb pulling on your bottom lip before he wipes the corner of your mouth with it.

You giggle. “You taste good.” You watch him step off the couch, searching for your clothes. He finds your underwear and bra, bringing it back over to you. When he realizes there’s nothing to clean you up with, he leans down and licks your cunt.

You shriek out. “Could say the same about how you taste.” He winks at you, handing you your clothes so you can get dressed. He goes to find his own and do the same. You hide your face in your hands.

“No way you’re shy, you just had my dick inside of you.” He rolls his eyes, throwing his shirt back on. Tone full of amusement and disbelief.

“Doesn’t mean you have to be vulgar.” You joke, strapping back into your leggings. The anxiety about Lexi and his band mates is hitting you now, but there’s no going back. “Thank you.”

He looks over, a wide grin on his face. Matty grabs your shoulders. “No, thank you. Best photoshoot of my career.” He walks over to the door, and you take long strides to catch up with him.

You smooth a hand over your hair and straighten out your clothes. It’s no use though, because when you open up the door and walk into the hall with Matty, they all know.

Lexi and the guys all stood there, knowing smiles on their faces. George even starts laughing when you both walk out. Adam’s head hung with his shoulders shaking, and Ross a smirk on his face.

“Think Matty got the all inclusive session, then?” George says, causing the rest of the group to burst out in laughter. You shrink in on yourself, looking over to see Matty’s grin. Lexi shoots you a look. A timid smile, but her eyes say ‘we’ll talk later.’

Matty giggles, humming. “Mhmm, don’t be jealous.” He shrugs looking between Lexi and you. “Contact us again for another shoot, then? We love your work, and would love to come back.” His eyes go to your face for the last bit, and you nod.

They all say their goodbyes, exchanging handshakes and stares. When they walk out, Matty catches your eye again through the window. Waving, and pulling out a cigarette.

…

Later, when you’re cleaning up the studio, you find a folded piece of paper under the front desk. A 10 digit phone number, a small heart and the words Matty scrawled under it.

[ecemf]

The Interview — Matty Healy

18+! MDNI!!!!!! Explicit!!!

Okay so I've never written fanfic or smut before so this could be ass but I just love jealousy sex & the idea of being on a red carpet so...

CW: smut, choking, dom/sub dynamics, dom!matty, sub!reader, use of y/n, alcohol usage, jealous!matty, possessive!matty, established relationship, thigh riding, i think that's it?? lmk if i missed anything

WC: ~3k

Ok I hope y'all like it ENJOY!!

The Interview.

The cameras are almost blinding as you stare out into the crowd of photographers shouting your name, trying to get the best angle for whatever publication they’re working for. Being a top executive at Sony Music meant you mostly worked behind the scenes; out of the spotlight. However, seeing as 18 artists on your label (five of which you yourself handpicked) were up for awards tonight, you couldn’t not show up to The Grammys. Besides, it felt good to dress up once in a while, especially if that meant wearing custom Chanel.

Continuing down the red carpet, you’re stopped by a reporter for Rolling Stone, Bryan Wilson. From the few brief interactions you’ve had with him at industry parties and the stories that have circulated about him, you know the guy’s a sleaze. But, given that there’s a Canon XF605 pointed directly in your face when he asks if you have time for a short interview, you smile sweetly and comply.

“You look stunning tonight, as always, Y/N”, he begins, in typical sleazy reporter fashion, “Can you tell us a little bit about what you’re wearing?” His eyes travel down the expanse of your body, grazing (quite slowly, to be frank) over the daring V-cut of your gown.

You couldn’t really blame him for checking you out, you did look incredible in this dress. Layers of black satin expertly draped over your body created an elegant but sexy silhouette complete with a plunging neckline and a timeless backless design. You knew you looked good, you didn’t need Wilson eye-fucking you to tell.

“Isn’t this The Rolling Stone?” You giggle in response, half-joking, “Shouldn’t you be asking me about Sony Records and leave the fashion questions to Vogue?” To the untrained ear, your tone is light-hearted and sincere, however, there’s an intended edge you’re hoping is coming through.

If he was picking up on the edge, he wasn’t showing it. Wilson continues on checking you out, responding “We hear about Sony Records enough, but it’s a treat to see the woman behind the magic,” he looks directly into the camera and gestures to your body, “especially when the woman looks like this!” He looks at you now, “Why don’t you give us a spin, Y/N?”

You clench your jaw into a tight smile, “You know, I’d really rather talk about the artists up for awards tonight. It’s a record-breaking night for my company, and I’m extremely proud to be here…” You’re trying your best to refocus the conversation on the real reason you’re on the red carpet tonight, but Wilson’s wandering eyes are making it difficult for you to focus on anything.

Finally feeling fed up, you clear your throat, “Sorry, Bryan, am I boring you?”

He breaks out of his stare from your chest and goes red. “Oh! No, I’m sorry I was just… looking at your necklace!” He gestures to the Tiffany & Co. pendant that hangs (conveniently for him) right between your boobs.

“Stunning, innit?” You hear your boyfriend say from behind you as he comes up and possessively wraps his arm around your waist on camera in a way that will definitely be circulating Twitter tomorrow. “Just bought it for her yesterday when I first got to see the dress.” Matty grips your right hip so tight that the satin puckers under his fingertips. You get a feeling he’s been watching this “interview” from afar.

“A beautiful necklace for a beautiful woman, indeed,” Wilson so boldly responds, either not noticing or not caring that Matty was already quite irritated.

With that final comment, Matty grips your hip even tighter, “Right, then,” he says shortly, “Cheers, mate!” He yells over his shoulder while quickly ushering you away from the train wreck of a media appearance.

“I’m gonna kill that guy,” he leans down to quietly whisper in your ear as the two of you make your way into the venue, “Staring at you like a piece of meat live on camera, isn’t he embarrassed?”

“It’s really not a big deal, baby,” you try to reassure him. And to you, it wasn’t, really, compared to some of the other harassment and objectification you’ve experienced in such a male-dominated industry, “He’s just some stupid reporter,”

“Yeah some stupid reporter who doesn’t know how to keep his stupid fucking eyes away from what’s mine,” he growls under his breath.

You grow a bit warm at your boyfriend’s possessive words and decide to push him a little further. “So what, people aren’t allowed to look at me now? We’re kind of on a red carpet if you haven’t realized,”

Matty rolls his eyes as the two of you take your seats at your assigned table. “You know what I mean,” he scoots a bit closer to you, wrapping his arm around your waist, “People can look at you all they want, but these,” he trails his hand up your torso, palming your left tit and slightly grazing its nipple through your dress with his thumb. You gasp. “These are mine, and you know that.” he says lowly into your ear.

This was going to be a long night.

—

Seven wins, two acceptance speeches, and a few too many bottles of champagne later, the ceremony was coming to an end. You were so proud of your artists, even those who hadn’t won tonight.

To your (and your aching feet’s) misfortune, your boyfriend was insistent on “making an appearance” at the afterparty, to “touch base with some important blokes”. You weren’t thrilled about the ordeal, but you had a nice buzz going from the free champagne earlier and figured a gin and tonic to top off the night wouldn’t hurt anyone. Boy were you wrong.

You were standing by the bar by yourself, watching Matty “touch base” with the aforementioned “blokes”. Nursing your second gin and tonic, you wonder how much longer their conversation will take, and when you can finally go home (and take your boyfriend to bed). As your mind indulges your fantasies of being fucked to sleep later, you hear an annoying and familiar voice from behind you.

“It breaks my heart to see such a gorgeous woman drinking alone,” no one other than Bryan Wilson saunters up beside you at the bar, “Where’s your man? You think he’d be smarter than to leave such precious goods unattended…” he slurs to you, obviously a few more deep than you were at this point in the night.

As Wilson drunkenly gets too close to you, you turn back to where Matty was talking to see him staring holes into the man’s skull, clenching and unclenching his fists. Your nearing-on-past-tipsy mind flashes back to your boyfriend’s words earlier, and his reaction to the reporter’s initial efforts towards you. You consider your options: 1) tell Wilson to fuck off and continue being bored by yourself at the bar, or 2) play this up a bit, make Matty jealous, have some fun, and probably go home early. Your sixth drink of the night tells you option two is far more enticing, and you agree.

You lean into Wilson a bit, closing some of the distance you were intentionally making. “Ever the flatterer, Bryan,” you lean back and give him a once-over, “I’m shocked that you’re still single, a handsome guy like you with such a smooth mouth on him.”

“It’s intentional baby,” he puts a hand on your arm - uh oh. “Why would I tie down this smooth mouth to one lucky lady? There’s plenty enough to go around…” and just as you think he’s about to make a move you feel a bruising grip on your upper arm tearing you away. Away from Bryan Wilson, away from the bar, away from the party.

You get your bearings and find yourself in a secluded hallway outside the party with your very angry, very sexy boyfriend staring you in the face. “What the fuck was that?” He spits at you, fuming.

“What was what?” You respond, looking up at Matty with your best doe eyes.

He cages your body in between his own and the wall of the hallway, “Don’t play stupid with me now, things can only get worse for you from here, pet.” As you look up at your very jealous partner, and feel the energy radiating off of him, you think to yourself that things can probably only get better.

You maintain your look of faux-innocence as you reply in your sweetest voice “Baby I was just talking to-“

“Don’t ‘baby’ me,” Matty growls as he grabs your throat and pushes you harder into the wall behind you. “You were letting that perv practically fuck you in front of everybody here. Making everyone think you’re anything but mine.” He pushes his hips into yours to punctuate the word, and you can feel how hard he is. Oh dear. Maybe it’s time to drop the act.

“I’m sorry, you were just taking so long talking to those guys, and I was getting so impatient and needy for you,” You bat your eyelashes in an attempt to seduce your way out of undoubtedly being fucked silly in some corner of this hotel right now. “I just want you to take me home, baby,” You run your hands down his chest, the way you know he likes.

Matty scoffs at this. “Aw, my poor little slut can’t wait longer than an hour for me to take her home and fuck her?” You feel a heat pool at your center from his words and absolute condescension. His hand around your neck comes up to grip your jaw, holding your head so that you can’t look anywhere but his eyes. “So fucking pathetic. Having to whore yourself around in public so that I can give you some attention? Trying to embarrass me in front of all our colleagues meanwhile, the only thing embarrassing is how stupid you look letting that scumbag put his hands on you,”

He holds your face an inch away from his own, his eyes searching for a response in yours. “I think you may need to be reminded just who you belong to.” He says darkly. And with that, he’s dragging you again, this time into the bathroom at the other end of the hallway.

As soon as the door closes he has you pressed up against it face-first. He wastes no time undoing the back of your dress, practically ripping it off of your body. You hope he doesn’t do any damage to the new gown, but to be honest, you’re not sure you care in this moment either way. Upon removing the dress, your boyfriend can see that you’ve forgone any undergarments (half because of the dress itself, half because you knew it would drive him crazy - which it does).

“Oh my fucking god,” he practically moans when he sees your now naked form pressed up against the door for him. “You’ve been ready for me all night, haven’t you princess?” He whispers in your ear, pressing himself to your back, slightly grinding into your bare ass. You squirm with his words and the minimal stimulation he provides.

“Well let’s just take a look,” He reaches his hand around from where he’s standing and drags a finger through your soaking folds agonizingly slowly. Your breath hitches. “Oh my poor girl,” he tuts, “how long have you been soaking through your dress baby?” He resumes his teasing, touching everywhere that isn’t your clit or your entrance. You whine and push your hips back in protest.

Matty grabs you by your waist and holds you in place against the door. “I think I asked you a question, slut.” He barks. You only grow wetter at his words and his toying.

“Since-“ you start, but you’re cut off by a moan when he takes his free hand to pull on your left nipple. His teasing is almost overwhelming, and you’re not sure you even remember the question the way your head is clouded with lust and need.

You’re pulled out of your hazy state by a hard slap to your pussy, “Since what? Huh? I haven’t even taken my cock out and you’re already fucked dumb. Answer me. How long have you been this wet?” He asks again, rolling your nipple between his fingers while inching closer and closer to your entrance with his calloused hand.

“Since you were grabbing my hips on the red carpet,” you manage to stutter out “during the interview.”

With that answer, he removes both of his hands from you. You put your hands up to brace yourself from slamming into the door from your newfound loss of support. Matty laughs darkly.

“So that’s what this is about, huh angel?” He grabs you by your hips, spinning to face him and pushing you even harder into the door behind you, “you like it when I get riled up, so I’ll treat you like the whore that you are?”

You look up at him with your glazed-over eyes and nod dumbly.

“Well here’s the problem with that,” Matty begins sucking on your neck harshly, no doubt leaving bruises, “You… are… my… whore… no… one… else’s…” he punctuates every word by leaving a new mark on your chest with his mouth. He takes a step back, admiring his handiwork. “Gorgeous,” he mutters as he admires your now hickey-covered tits, “you should really see this baby.”

Matty leads you over to the sink of the bathroom, turning you around to see your naked and marked-up form in the mirror. Looking at the new marks on your chest, you realize that he’s left them in the distinct pattern of your dress’s neckline, meaning there’s no hiding them. No hiding the fact that you’re his. You squeeze your thighs together at the thought.

Leaning over your shoulder in the mirror, you watch as your boyfriend trails his hand down your body to the place you need him most. Unsurprisingly, though, he doesn’t touch you, he simply ghosts his hand over the outside of your now sopping heat. You press yourself into him.

“Please, baby,” you whine, making your best puppy eyes in the mirror at him. “Please, I need you to touch me.” You’re so desperate he doesn’t even need to ask you to beg.

“Do you think you deserve to be touched?” He responds, continuing his teasing, “You’ve been quite a bad girl tonight, baby. And bad girls don’t get what they want.”

“I’ll be good, I promise,” you beg even more, tears forming at your eyes with the desperation he’s built in you.

“Prove it,” Matty responds, trailing his hand up to your mouth. You gladly take his digits in, watching as he toys with you and stretches you out, wishing he would do that in other places. You hear the clinking of his belt, and you perk up, thinking that maybe he’s just going to put you out of your horny misery and fuck you already, but of course he’s not.

“Can’t have you getting yourself all over my nice trousers now can we love?” He says as he pulls his pants down to his ankles. You watch still with all four of his fingers in your mouth as he takes his newly naked thigh and roughly slots it in between your legs from behind. Your eyes roll back at the much-needed friction it provides. Matty leans in, “Right then. Be a good girl and ride my thigh, hm? You’re gonna have to get yourself off before I believe you after tonight’s theatrics.”

Embarrassing as it may be, you are in no condition to care in this moment. You immediately start feverishly fucking your boyfriend’s thigh, moaning around his fingers at the friction you’ve been needing all night, a ball already forming in the pit of your stomach. Not more than a second after your head falls forward in relief, your boyfriend grabs you by your hair to force you to look in the mirror, “Nuh-uh” he growls, “You’re gonna watch while you fuck yourself on my thigh. You’re gonna see just how pathetic you are, crying with relief and coming undone when I’ve not even touched you.”

Matty’s words and the sight of him and you in the mirror add to the very quickly growing warmth in your body. Your skin is on fire as you grip the sink in front of you, trying to use whatever leverage you can to get yourself off faster. You take one hand to start kneading your tits, playing with your nipples, hoping some added stimulation will help; you whine at the new sensation.

“There you go princess, that’s it,” he coos in your ear, “so good f’me, taking directions so well baby.”

The praise goes straight to your core and you can feel yourself clench around nothing. Matty can tell by your breathing that you’re close, so he grabs you by your hips to help you, moving you back and forth on his thigh, assisting in your rhythm. “Come on my thigh,” he demands in your ear; and you do. That white-hot pleasure you’ve been chasing since you saw your boyfriend on the red carpet this afternoon finally washes over you. But it’s not enough.

Matty takes his fingers out of your mouth but keeps you firm against him. As you come down from your high, you look at him in the mirror desperately. Your orgasm was, well, an orgasm, but you know it could be so much better if he would just fuck you.

“Matty please,” You whine, still making sweet eye contact, “Baby, I need more.”

Matty nods his head in the direction of the door. “Put your dress on, love,” You think you might cry, until he whispers in your ear, “I’m not done with you yet, princess.”

---------

Ahh!! Should I write a pt. two when the couple gets home?? Thank y'all for reading my first smut omfg I can't believe I did this...

[abiiors]

Book

So excited to do (write) anything that you want to! week with prompts from @imightgetbetter. Adding all of these to my Series Masterlist

Monday - early matty (pre-notes/bfiafl)

In a small corner of a dusty, second-hand bookstore, two hands reach for the same book at the same time. Fingers brush against each other, electricity zings, all the usual ingredients of a meet-cute, except the boy is on a mission. 

‘I’m going to sound like a twat here,’ he shuts his eyes tightly then opens them with a sigh, ‘but I need that book more than you.’

You feel a bit dumbfounded. At least, he has the decency to look embarrassed but the fact remains that he still hasn’t let go of the book. 

‘Oh?’ you ask, still gathering your bearings, ‘you don’t even know what I need it for?’

‘I knowww,’ he groans, ‘but please! I need it back.’

You look at the boy properly. He truly does look desperate for the book. His face is all pouty and his eyes big, his hair sits like a curly, poofy mop on his head. You wonder if this look is supposed to work on people, if it has worked on people in the past. 

Maybe, maybe not. And as much as you don’t want to admit it, it is working on you a little bit. Okay, maybe a lot!

‘You need it…back?’ you give him a quizzical look. 

‘I need it back,’ he confirms. 

‘You see,’ he continues like he’s about to start a soliloquy, ‘my roommate got really drunk or really high, it doesn’t matter, my roommate got fucked up and decided to sell my books for some extra cash. Yes, yes I know, messed up but now I’m here to try to get as many of them back as possible.’

You open your mouth, about to say something, but he’s not done speaking. 

‘Please, I’ll buy you a new copy of this but not this one. This one has some…annotations.’

His face turns pink. His eyes wander a bit, unable to meet yours. And you have to admit, he has almost won you over. 

‘What’s your name?’ You bite your lip, hold back a smile.

‘Matt,’ he says, clearing his throat, ‘Matty.’

‘I don’t need a new copy, Matty. I just needed to check a few passages, that’s all.’ 

‘Oh.’ It’s a soft sound like he’s contemplating. ‘Well, in that case…’ he trails off and holds the copy in front of you. 

His copy of On The Road by Jack Kerouac is old and a bit wrinkled. The pages are yellowing and the spine is cracked but you have to admit, it looks well read. Well loved, even. 

‘I just need to jot down a few things,’ you tell him and he nods. 

When you settle down on the floor, a notebook and pen in hand, he does the same. You wonder if this is to snatch the book away if you stumble upon any of his annotations. He could wander around the bookstore while you did your thing but he wraps his hands around his knees and rest his chin on them. He’s not exactly subtle when he lets his eyes roam over you with barely concealed interest. 

‘What’s this for?’ he tilts his head to one side, and then as an afterthought, adds, ‘if I may ask.’

‘A paper on road trip novels,’ you answer distractedly as you flip through the page to find what you need. 

There are a few pencil scribblings here and there, quotes that are underlined and circled over and over again. There are doodles—few and far in between—but they make you smile a bit. You so badly want to stop and read the annotations but not when he’s sitting right there, watching you like a hawk. 

While you note down the things you need to, Matty gets restless. He picks up a pen and twirls it between his fingers effortlessly, picks up a second one and bangs them on his shins like drumsticks. The boy truly can’t sit still even when he lets you work in peace…for the most part. 

But you’re surprised that you don’t find it annoying. If anything, his fidgety restlessness is amusing. The way he stops every time you turn pages, the way his fingers twitch at his sides, ready to hide anything embarrassing. You feel tempted to linger on one of his notes just to watch how he’d react but they seem to have petered out as the book slowly comes to an end. 

You want to imagine this boy, in his bedroom or in a cafe or in a park, reading the book. His hands clutching it tightly, his face scrunched in concentration. He would be so absorbed that he forgets to note down any more of his thoughts. But something catches your eye as you turn to the penultimate page. 

Black ink has bled through. Until now, everything was in pencil, smudged, messy script but with a touch of gentleness. But this is much harsher, written in pen. 

His eyes widen, his hands freeze in place. Quicker than expected, he drops the pens and flips the page. 

‘What…’ he grabs the book in confusion and you let him take it away from you. His face changes from confusion to irritation, to gloom, to, finally, curiosity. 

His eyes dart over the dark scribblings. A crease forms between his eyebrows as he tries to make sense of the words. 

‘Wow, these are mental,’ he mumbles to himself. ‘God, these make no sense.’

‘I thought they were yours,’ you raise an eyebrow. 

‘No, someone else must have... Mine are much tamer compared to these.'

The curiosity gets the better of you and you have to ask, ‘can I see?’

‘Mmm, sure.’ He extends the book in your direction still holding onto one half of it. 

So you scoot closer, hold onto the other side. Your thighs touch momentarily, your heads are bent over it as both of you try to decipher the script. 

‘1 June, The 1975,’ you read aloud, trace the words with your fingers. ‘That’s a bit of a weird way of writing it.’

‘It is, isn’t it!’ He taps the space under the words, then tips his head back onto the shelves behind him. 

‘The 1975…’ he repeats and his voice has gone all soft and full of awe. ‘Has a nice ring to it, wouldn’t you say?’

[cows-wearing-my-sweater]

nothing wrong with a little self-indulgence

word count: 851 warnings: none !! this is pure fluff notes: shorter post for tonight :) ive had this written for awhile and it's up on my ao3 but i wanted to put it here as well,

Sun shines down on you through the tall bedroom window, gently warming your shoulders. Though the beams feel nice, they’re unwelcome. Barely able to open your eyes in the battle against falling back asleep, you struggle to pull the comforter further up in order to shield yourself from the responsibilities of the morning. Your shifting in bed causes a groan from beside you.

“Don’t tell me you want to get up early today, darling,” Matty whines, eyes still closed. “I was just having the most wonderful dream about my beautiful girlfriend.”

You manage to blink your eyes fully open at this, catching sight of the sly smile on Matty’s face. You push yourself a little closer to him and nuzzle your head in the crook of his neck. “I would rather stay here, but…”

“No ‘but’s.” Matty wraps his arm tightly around you, replacing the warmth of the sun that had been on your back with the heat of his own body. You’re pressed against his chest now, just as he knows you like to be. You take in the feeling of his chest rising and falling gently, the familiar rhythm of his heartbeat. The idea of getting out of bed and getting on with the day feels like a lost cause now.

Matty tilts his head down to press a soft kiss to the top of your head. His lips linger there, allowing himself to take in everything about you; the softness of your hair, the way you smell, the way your legs are tangled with his. 

There’s silence for a while, save for the sound of each of you breathing. You’ve fallen in sync with Matty; inhale, hold for a beat, exhale. You move in unison, two halves of one whole. You’re not sure if Matty is still awake at this point. His grip keeping you close to him has loosened slightly, and you take the opportunity to pull back from him ever so slowly as not to disturb his rest. You do this so you can properly admire him in his vulnerable state. You want to envelop his soul in calm and quiet, protect him in the bubble of peace he rests in now.

Your eyes begin to wander all around him, trying to capture every single detail as it is. The corners of his mouth are pointed upwards in an almost imperceptible smile. His lips are parted so slightly; you’ve kissed those soft lips countless times, yet your craving for them never ceases. A few stray, messy curls lie haphazardly on his forehead. His chest is bare, almost beckoning for you to come back to your place against it. And you do. You bring yourself back to his warmth, and when you close your eyes you attempt to burn the image of a sleeping Matty into your mind, keeping it somewhere tucked away and safe.

For the next hour or so, you fall in and out of sleep, yet each time you wake you’re never out of arm’s reach from Matty. His fingers brush against your arm while he sleeps. You mimic his movements, bringing your fingertips to the tattoos littering his arms, tracing the designs. His skin is soft. It’s familiar.

 Finally, Matty begins to stir once more. His eyes flutter open and immediately land on you. He follows your gaze out the window; the sun has now undeniably risen. You can’t kick the notion that a responsible adult would have started their day long before now, and Matty seems to sense this within you.

He sighs gently before saying, “We can put off work for today, my love. I know how stressed you’ve been. You can’t hide that from me.” You don’t say anything in response, so he adds, “Let me take care of you today.”

You prop yourself up in bed and look at him. “I have so much to get done, Matty,” you groan and rub your temples.

Matty sits up next to you. He frowns and intertwines his fingers with yours. “You’ve earned this day off, [Y/N]. We can take it slow today. I’ll run you a bath, I’ll take care of all the cooking. You won’t lift a finger today.”

You sink back into the pillows. Matty pulls you to him again, fingers running through your hair. His hands wander down to your neck and shoulders, gently massaging. You sigh happily.

“Just lay here with me,” he whispers.

You concede to this, knowing Matty would never change his mind. And you’re happy to comply. This is safety. This is comfort. Matty presses a kiss to the back of your neck, then turns you so he can leave his mark on your forehead, your nose, your cheeks, your jaw. His kisses are lazy as he reaches your lips. You can feel him smile against you. You can tell as he pulls away from you that he wants to deepen the kiss, to grace your neck with his lips, but he decides not to. That could be saved for another day. Today he holds you, and that’s enough. It always has been.

[imightgetbetter]

bets are off

hiiiiiiii. i'm trying to write more and this was a fun one to write. it's a mix of dad!matty, the anon request about matty and the missus having a bet, and the absolute whore that he was at lollapalooza. i hope you enjoy it! send me feedback and like and reblog and do all the things. love you lots!

Matty, from the moment you gave him the news, couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Matty would be following Attie around the venue, calling her over to hold his hand in fear of her running off and getting lost amongst all the touring personnel and crew, his eyes staying on you somehow, someway. Having Attie backstage didn’t worry you all that much, not that anyone could mistake who she is, Attie is a spitting image of Matty himself, a trait that you’ve found yourself loving more in the times when you’re apart – a piece of him is always with you, now even more so. His hand reaches out for yours as soon as Attie is in his grasp, his arms scooping her onto his waist before she could try to persuade him otherwise. His eyes travel from your own to the way your shirt hangs loosely over your torso. He knows you won’t show for a while, most likely how you were with Attie, but that doesn’t mean he can’t imagine what you’ll look like this time around, how you’ll look with Attie on your hip and a round belly. The thought alone is enough to drive him to insanity.

“Matty, let me have a minute with my goddaughter, hm?” Adam smiles, reaching for Attie and pressing a kiss to your cheek with a quiet ‘hello’. Matty reluctantly hands Attie to him, smiling as she reaches for his hands immediately and hugs him tight. “Uncle George is over there waiting to let you bash on the drums, Attie.”

“Can we go?” Attie squeaks excitedly, waving at you and Matty and nearly wiggling out of Adam’s arms to make it to George and Ross on the other end of the stage. “Uncle George!”

“Attie has missed you all very much,” you say, turning to Matty and circling your arms around his neck, your head perched back slightly to take in his appearance. He looks the happiest you’ve seen him in weeks (mainly because he’s never very happy when you’re seeing him through a screen) and you know there’s layers of excitement waiting to burst through. “I missed you very much.”

“You have no idea,” Matty says softly, leaning down and brushing your nose against his, his lips hovering over yours, the heat of his breath on your lips wrapping your nerves in desire. “I have waited too long to kiss my darling wife, love of my life, mother of my babies.” Matty smirks when you lean onto your toes and kiss him, silencing his sputtered words and encasing your lips in his. He holds you tightly, reminding you of where you are, his hands inching ever so slightly to the waistband of your jeans. “Our bet still stands you know.”

“You’re the one that has your hands nearly in my jeans,” you counter, your hands cupping his jaw and rubbing your thumb along the stubble lining his jaw. “Do you really want to stay to this bet now that you know, you know?”

“As much as I would love to take you into the dressing room, right this very second, and rip this shirt off of you,” Matty smirks against your lips, his hand splaying across your lower back and pulling you closer, “I’m never one to give in so easily. You know this quite well about me, now don’t you, my love?”

“I can’t believe it worked,” you say under your breath, unsure of who’s listening and who’s around to spill the secret. One thing you’ve learned over the years with knowing the guys, none of them can keep a secret from each other very long, and Matty is the biggest culprit of that. “Must’ve been pretty quick after I stopped my birth control.”

“Once I knew you were coming off it, I couldn’t really help myself, baby.”

“That’s not an excuse,” you say, quirking your eyebrows suggestively. “You can barely control yourself, anyways. You just get a million times worse when there’s the idea of putting a baby in me in your head,” you say, pausing for just a moment to add in, “and now you’ve done it twice.”

“You make a very hot mum, darling. What can I say?” Matty’s hands slip lower, covering your backside and giving you a squeeze, his lips reaching your ear and whispering, “You’re making this bet painful on purpose.”

“Give in then,” you say enticingly, your lips pressing to the corner where his jaw meets his neck, the spot on his skin that you know brings goosebumps along his spine and tickle his senses. “Just say that I was right, that I’m always right, that you can’t resist me the minute you see me, and you can take me to your dressing room, right this second, and have me whatever way you’d like.”

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Matty groans against your mouth, turning his head to capture your lips in a kiss. “You win.”

“Ah ah, that’s not enough, and you know it. I want to hear you say it.”

“You’re right, darling. You’re always right. I can’t resist you the minute I see you.”

“That wasn’t so hard,” you smirk, your words mumbled against his mouth.

“Shut up, YN,” Matty grunts with a half smile, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the curtain backstage, his eyes making a point to find Attie with George and Ross, and ice cream cone in hand, a sigh of relief leaving his lips as he tugs you towards the dressing room you’d only left a bit ago. “I’m going to embarrass myself with how badly I need you, right now.”

“You can’t embarrass yourself in front of your wife, Matty.”

“Believe me, darling, I can.”

Matty opens the dressing room door and shuts it quickly, locking it behind you and immediately pulling you into him, his mouth attaching to yours without a second thought. His hands are heavy on your skin, pulling and pressing into you, his hands working around your waist and quickly making work to bring your shirt off your torso and your jeans down your thighs. Matty doesn’t waste time, not in the slightest, waiting only a moment for you to kick off your jeans before reaching his hands around your thighs and lifting you onto the vanity, his hands making quick work of his own trousers and shoving the material down his thighs as you grab his cheeks and bring him in for a kiss.

“I’ve been counting down the days until I could do this,” you say softly, your eyes squeezing shut as Matty’s mouth works quickly against your neck, kissing every inch of skin he can possibly touch. “I knew you’d react this way. I knew you’d be insatiable as soon as I told you I was pregnant.”

“Do you know why?”

“Why what, baby?”

“Why I act this way.”

“Why do you act this way, Matty?”

“‘Cause time and time again,” Matty says taking a moment away from kissing your skin to look you in the eyes, “I can’t believe you picked me to live this life together, and I can never take it for granted. Ever.”

Matty’s eyes soften as you grab his cheeks, “I would and will pick you every single time, you know that. I am very fond of you, you know.”

He smirks, “I know. You’re my Sally.”

Matty leans forward, capturing your lips in his, his hands moving from your thighs to your backside and pulling you towards the edge of the vanity, his hands spreading your thighs just enough to slot between. His hand leaves your thigh momentarily to grab his cock, a strangled moan leaving his lips as he drags his tip along your core, the arousal wetting him as he slowly sinks into you. Matty grabs your hips, pulling you as close to his body as physically possible, his hands warm and heavy on your skin. His lips are connected to yours, breathing you in, kissing you and saying every missed word and ‘I love you’ that you’ve missed in person. His thrusts are heavy against you, your arms clutching around his shoulders, your teeth biting into the pad of your thumb to mask the whimpers and whines that are escaping you.

Grunts echoing inside the dressing room as you near closer and closer to your high, the feeling of his cock inside of you making your entire nervous system light on fire. He knows how to work you, how to get you going, and the feeling of him inside of you never compares to anything else. Matty presses into you, holding you to him, kissing your neck and you swear your eyes couldn’t have rolled further into your head, lights shining behind closed eyelids. His whispering is muttered into your ear and you swear you can feel yourself clenching around him, coming undone with every word he says.

“Come on, darling. Cum for me.” Matty holds you tightly as you come undone around him, his high hitting him with two hard thrusts and a tense groan into your neck. He kisses your neck, reaching for the tissues next to you and carefully cleaning you up, kissing your shaking thighs and gently massaging your skin. “I love you so much. Holy fuck. I’ve missed you so badly.”

“I missed you, too,” you hum contently, leaning your head back against the mirror. “Attie is going to come looking for us if we don’t go find her soon. All she’s been talking about since we got on the plane was seeing you and getting her new headphones.”

Matty presses a kiss to your cheek and pats your thighs, reaching for his trousers and beginning to pull them up his thighs, buttoning them securely and walking around the room until he finds what he’s looking for. “Have them, right here. Engraved and everything.”

“What do they say?” you ask curiously, sliding off the vanity counter and reaching for your underwear and jeans, pulling each material up slowly as you take him in. Matty hands you your shirt, puckering his lips for a kiss before handing it to you. “She’s going to be so excited, baby.”

“Her initials on one side,” Matty smiles proudly, pulling the headphones out of the case and opening the dressing room door, looking side to side to see if he can spot her before turning the side over and showing you what it says inside the headband.

“Future Rockstar,” you smile, your hand falling to your nonexistent bump as you say, “Daddy is trying to get you two into the industry already. Not on my watch.”

“Our kids are born for stardom, darling. Get over it.” Matty hooks his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side and sticking the headphones under his arm, his mouth pressing against your head as he says, “Just so you know, I’m not nearly finished with you. I don’t care if I lost the stupid bet.”

[burninlovebutler]

29 - Be My Mistake* // Forever Winter Series

pairing: austin x fem!oc | word count: 5.9k-ish

summary: austin finds himself caught up in a whirlwind love affair with his chosen distraction. as his addiction worsens, the rose colored glasses begin to fog & his grip on control begins to wane.

warnings/notes: aspen lol, agitated!austin, smut, p n v (unprotected), pulling out ~toaster strudel vibes~, fluffy?, exchange of fun words, hints at SA (past, vague), substance use (weed, pills), addiction, short time skips, inherently saaaad u know the drill, plsss don’t be mad at me🫣, 18+ ONLY MDNI

previous chapter -> 28 - Temporary Fix*

see masterlist for chapter log + all other fics

vibes -> fw playlist❄️

And be my mistake, then turn out the light She bought me those jeans, the ones you like

I don't want to hug, I just want to sleep The smell of your hair, reminds me of her feet

You do make me hard, but she makes me weak

-AUSTIN-

I pressed my back against my front door to click it closed and let out a heavy sigh. My middle finger and thumb pinched the bridge of my nose trying to alleviate the tension headache building behind my skull.

What the fuck had I just done?

I did what I set out to do. What I agreed to do.

If I wanted to keep my dirty little secret from her, I needed to follow through. I just didn’t think it would hurt this much – I didn’t think I’d hurt her that much. But the band aid was ripped off and I didn’t want to think of what would come next. The mere idea of losing her - my best friend – it was too much. I needed to numb it out.

Using my right foot, I kicked myself off the door and mentally prepared myself for what I was about to walk into.

“What the fuck was that about?” Spreading my arms out in exasperation when I walked back to Aspen in my bedroom. “I thought we were on the same page.”

“We are.” She confirmed, dropping her arms to her sides. “I don’t care who you fuck, but it just pissed me off how hypocritical she was being. It’s fucked up of her to show up here jealous over you, when she’s the one with a boyfriend.”

“Did what she say upset you?” I asked, ignoring her accusation of Elsie being jealous.

“The fact that you ditched me at the party to hook up with your best friend then called me afterwards?” Her voice not nearly as pissed as you’d think. “Yeah, that’s pretty fucking shitty Austin. But just as basic decency – not because I'm in love with you.”

“Look – you’re right. I’m sorry. It was a shitty thing to do.” I stepped towards her and took her hands into my own. “Okay? I’m sorry. Can we just forget this happened?”

Chocolate brown eyes glanced up at me, anger flowed into playfulness, “Sure Aus.” She cooed with a wide smile.

The nickname sprung another tinge of pain in my stomach, nicknames were something only Elsie was ever allowed to use. Hearing another girl say them felt forbidden, as if it was some vile curse word you would only hear in snuff films.

“You’re not gonna chase after her?” She questioned, unfazed, crossing the floor to pluck an orange pill bottle from my nightstand.

“What?” I replied, surprised that she’d ask such a thing. I’d never met a girl like her, nothing seemed to really bother her. She must’ve been just as fucked up as me.

“Elsie? The girl that just ran out of your apartment?” She stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. She scanned the pill bottle she picked up, then set it down for another one.

I wanted to run after her, I really fucking did. My insides felt like they were being ripped to pieces, like I ran my intestines through a paper shredder. But I accomplished exactly what I set out to do – push her away.  “No, why would I do that?” I made my way over to her, curious as to what she was analyzing.

“Because you’re in love with her.” The words left her mouth effortlessly, not a hesitation, stutter, or hiccup. She twisted the white cap off the prescription bottle with a crack and poured two white bar-shaped pills from the container. She lifted her hand with an offer, “Want one?”

It took a moment to wrap my head around what she just said. She spoke it with such conviction, like it was a well-known fact. Like it was as obvious as the sky being blue or grass being green. A terrifying thumping pit fell into my chest, similar to one you’d get as a kid when you were on the verge of getting caught misbehaving. I shook my head with a small laugh, waving away the mere suggestion, “I’m not in love with her.”

“Whatever you say buddy.” She shrugged, taking a bar and snapping it in half with her front teeth, swallowing it dry, offering me the other half again. “If you’re not in love with her, then she’s definitely in love with you.”

I rolled my eyes at her and stole the half pill, using an overnight glass of water to swig it down. “She’s not in love with me, you must still be high.”

She let out a chuckle at my words, “See? You can’t even say her name.”

“I’m not-” I mentally winced at the involuntary stutter and let out an exhausted sigh. “I’m not in love with Elsie”

She gave me a skeptical ‘sure’ look with raised brows, “Mhm, whatever ya say babe.” Plopping on the bed, dangling her feet off the edge. “Just means I get ya for a bit longer.” Her full lips curled into a content grin.

My first instinct was to ask what exactly that meant, but I didn’t want to prolong the unnecessary conversation.

“Wait a minute,” Her brows furrowed, some realization clicking in her head and picked up another pill bottle, reading it once more. A booming laugh erupted from her, “Your last name is Butler?”

My eyes rolled again already knowing what was coming, “C’mon get it out of your system.”

She kicked her legs and fell back onto the bed, “You gonna fetch me dinner Butler?”

“Yep.” I nodded and sucked my teeth, hearing the same thing I’ve heard my whole life. “Mhm, let it out.”

“What about my laundry? You better separate my lights from darks.” She giggled, deep dimples denting her cheeks.

“Alright alright,” I readjusted on the bed, flipping to be on top of her, “That’s quite enough don’t ya think?” Pinning her arms at each side of her head, she reflexively tugged her head to the side to yank the blonde strands I had landed on.

She continued to laugh, “Ya know, an act like this might get ya fired.”

“Oh my god, shut up.” Her laughter was contagious, and I couldn’t help but crack a smile.

She stilled beneath me, her giggles fading, and hazelnut eyes lined with long lashes blinked up at me softly, “Make me.”

My gaze lingered on her. She was so beautiful when she was completely stripped down like she was then. Her features were so soft and feminine, gentle slopes for cheekbones adorned with deep valley dimples and a button nose. If she wore less glittery makeup and didn’t want to dye her hair pink, she could easily be a Victoria’s Secret model.

“You’re so pretty, you know that?” I voiced my thoughts.

She blushed and waved me away, “Oh shut up.” She giggled.

“Make me.” I turned the command back on her like some sort of power game.

She took the bait, taking my face in her delicate hands, seemingly analyzing my face the way I did hers. She drew her thumb across my cheekbone before pulling me down into a kiss. The more I kissed her, the less guilty I felt. Though, I wasn’t sure I’d ever not have some inexplicable guilt looming in the background.

Her fingers tangled into my wavy locks that were in desperate need of a trim and took the initiative of swiping her tongue across my bottom lip for entrance. My fingertips grazed under her thighs bringing them around my hips as our tongues danced together. She locked her legs around me pulling me against her core which I forgot was still only covered with lacy panties. I pulled from her lips and dropped my head into the curve of her neck to let out a low groan from the friction against my hardening cock. My hands trailed up under the borrowed shirt along her sides and he whined softly, “Aus.”

I drew away to look at her when she covered her face with her arm shyly, a stark contrast to her usually confident sex appeal. “Hey,” I said softly, trailing my fingers up her sides, “What’s wrong? You okay?”

She moved her wrist to cover her forehead, blush feathered across her cheeks. “Yeah… I don’t know, I don’t think I’m high yet.”

“Oh, um,” I pulled my lip between my teeth, “Well we can stop if you want or I don’t really…”

“No no, it’s okay.” Her smile pulled a little too tight, “It’s okay, we can keep going.”

Something about this scene gave a sort of, déjà vu moment. It reminded me of that New Year’s Eve night with Elsie, where she didn’t want me to take off her dress but told me to anyway, if that’s what I wanted. But this was a side of Aspen I’d never seen, she was never shy with sex or with her body for that matter. “Did I do something wrong? I really didn’t mean to upset you.” My hand found her thigh and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“No, no you didn’t. I just – I don’t know, it’s hard for me to um,” She cleared her throat, “Sex is hard for me when I’m sober. I just,” She pressed her lips together and diverted her eyes, “It’s- actually, don’t worry about it, it’s not a big deal.” Waving away the topic, her grin wide but her eyes dim.

“No, no because it’s obviously a big deal ‘Pen, what’s wrong?”

She propped herself up on her elbows, blonde strands cascading down her shoulder, “It’s really not a big deal we can just continue, it’s fine.” Her tone light and rather dismissive.

“’Pen there’s obviously something wrong I’m not just gonna keep going if you’re uncomfortable. You can tell me, okay?” I brought my hand to her face and gently placing a knuckle beneath her chin. “I wanna know so I can be more careful.”

Aspen exhaled deeply, “The guys at work can sometimes be… forceful.” Her eyes trailed off, focusing on the wall behind me. “And some of them don’t like the word no.” She stated quietly before reaching my eyes again, “It can be kind of triggering? I guess? To do stuff when I’m sober. Being high really helps with that.”

It took me longer than it should’ve for me to really understand what she was saying. It made me so sad for her. Since I was always Elsie’s plus-one to parties, clubs or bars, I’d seen my fair share of inappropriate bullshit from random men. They’d cross boundaries with her, even right in front of me, even when most people would just assume that I was her boyfriend. Of course a literal strip club would be worse, I just never thought of it that way. She never complained about work or any of her clients. I felt like an asshole for it not even crossing my mind. “Oh my god Aspen,” I felt myself involuntarily loosen my grip on her thigh, “I’m so sorry, I never meant to make you feel like that I just I didn’t I don’t-”

She giggled, “Sh sh.” Placing a finger on my rambling lips, “It’s not you, you never make me feel like that.” She said quietly, “It’s okay,” Moving her hand from my lips to cup my cheek, “I feel safe with you.” Her eyes soft and genuine. “I will let you know if I’m having a bad time, okay?”

I nodded, suppressing the urge to ask her once again if she was sure, “Okay, sounds good.” I leaned down and pressed my forehead against hers. “I would never do anything like that to you. I promise. Never ever.”

She folded her top lip over her bottom, “I know. I believe you.” Then dragged her thumb over my cheekbone. “You’ve got such a beautiful soul, you know that?” Her voice was so quiet, barely loud enough for me to hear her. “You’re really beautiful on the outside too.”

Her words took me by surprise, it’s not every day that a guy gets a compliment like that. I’d never had anyone tell me they think I’m beautiful, nonetheless my fucking soul? There was a small, unexpected flutter in my stomach. “Well, thank you.” I replied softly, pressing my lips to hers, “You-” I began but she cut me off with a deeper kiss.

I pulled away again to return the compliment, but she promptly placed two fingers against my lips before I could speak, “You don’t need to say anything back.” Her chestnut brown eyes locked with mine and her voice stern beneath a slight tremble. “When I say things to you, it’s because I mean them – not because I hope you’ll say them back.”

Her words loomed a heaviness that my increasing high couldn’t begin to comprehend. As soon as I nodded, she reeled me back into the kiss, deepening it almost immediately. She wrapped her legs around my hips and drew me down against her core. She disconnected from the kiss, “Please fuck me.”

“You’re gonna drive me insane.” I muttered under my breath before dropping my head in her neck, leaving sloppy kisses behind. I tugged her skin into my mouth with a suck as I began rutting my hips against her heat. She let out small moans every time my cock would roll up against her clit. She dug her nails into my back, “Fuck, Austin, I need you to fuck me.” She mewled.

I continued leaving messy kisses on her neck, focusing one on her sweet spot just below her ear, “I want you to beg for it.” I muttered against her neck and dug my nails into her hips.

“Austin please, please.” She whined, “Fuck, I need your cock so fucking bad.”

My cock twitched at her words, it was almost painful how hard I was. I couldn’t take it anymore, I needed her. I pulled back from her enough to slip my shorts off, letting my cock spring free. Aspen’s eyes tracked my member as she trailed her hand down and slipped beneath her panties, beginning to rub her clit.

The sight of her was driving me crazy. I precariously pushed her panties to the side and slid my tip up through her deliciously wet folds before gradually dipping into her entrance. The minute she felt me inside her, she let out a loud gasp. I slid into her slowly, inch by inch, just to torture her. I let out a groan once I felt myself reach the deepest part of her, “God, you’re so fucking tight.”

The hand that wasn’t working on her clit pushed open the button down she’d borrowed from me, revealing her lace covered breasts. She began kneading her right tit and playing with her hardened nipple over the sheer noir lace.

Control was slipping through my fingers already and it was reflected in my speed. “Fuck.” I muttered, as I propped up her thighs with my hands, using them as an anchor to keep her in place as I slammed in and out of her. Moans and curses poured from her lips the faster I went and the quicker she worked on her clit. “You feel so fucking good.” I groaned, squeezing her thigh and fucked her faster.

“Yeah?” She chewed on her bottom lip, “I like being a cock slut for you.”

In all the time we’d been well, fucking, we’d used words like that plenty before but in light of the information she’d just given me, it made me feel almost guilty for using them. “You do?” The question came out significantly more transparent than intended.

She brought her free hand to my own that was holding up her leg, “I do.” She replied softly and gave my hand a squeeze. “I like it. You know that.” And gave a small giggle reassuring me that it was the truth.

“In that case,” I bent down to continue my work on her neck, trailing short sucking kisses up to her ear. “You like being my little cock slut huh?” I whispered and smirked when I could audibly hear her enjoy the words.

“Yours?” She squeaked quietly.

Thoughtlessly I replied, “Mine.”    

Her breathing accelerated, “Aus I’m close.” She whined, wrapping her fist in the excess sheets.

Her moans got louder as I continued to ram into her, “C’mon baby, I want you to fucking cum all over my cock.” I hummed against her neck, but I could feel her still teetering on her own ledge. I gripped her legs tight, “Be a good girl and cum for me, will you?”

It didn’t take much after that for her to reach her finish line, her back arching away from the bed sharply, “Fuck! Austin!”

I pulled myself back upright, tightening my grip on her thighs and drilled into her as she was still riding her high. The knot in my stomach was already threatening to unravel but when her walls began to contract around me, I knew I was dangerously close, “Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” It felt like I was dangling from a string that was about to snap, “Fuck, where do you want me to cum?”

“Cum on me,” She answered quickly, brushing her hair off her chest, “Please cum on me?”

“Fuck,” I slammed into her trying to hold out for as long as possible but abruptly pulled out when I felt myself about to cum, “Fuck!” I groaned, pumping my cock until ribbons of cum coated chest and stomach. I rode out my high, leaving her completely covered. “Fuck.” I breathed out, using the back of my clean hand to wipe off sweat from my forehead. “You look so fucking good covered in my cum.”

“Yeah?” She giggled, dragging a finger dangerously close to one of the patches.

“Don’t.” I warned her, with a propped brow.

She slid her finger through the puddle, then plopped it in her mouth. “Mmm.” She teased, “You should fill my mouth instead next time.”

My jaw nearly fell, “Cut that shit out or I’m gonna have to fuck you again.”

She bit down on her thumbnail with a mischievous smile, “Would that be so bad?”

-weeks later-

Aspen and I walked hazily through Manhattan, my arm slung over her shoulders, our steps synced up. It was a rare morning where we weren’t high, just remnants of weed in our system. She had all but moved into my apartment from how often she stayed over. We were on one fuck of a roll. It was so refreshing to be around someone who doesn’t hound you about your choices, someone who made those choices with you.

The blonde leaned into me as she walked, “I’ve been having so much fun with you Aus.”

‘Aus’

No matter how much fun we had, I still hated it coming out her mouth.

“Me too ‘Pen.” My arm curled her closer. “I haven’t had this much fun in a long while.”

It was the truth; I hadn’t felt happy in so long, nonetheless have fun. Probably the last time I let myself have fun was Thanksgiving with Elsie. And even then, it was so tense. But Aspen made it so easy, I didn’t have to hide shit from her or tip toe around anything. It wasn’t complicated or painful, it was just fun.

“Guess we’re just meant for each other then.” She joked, nudging into me. We were on such a high that I didn’t wanna risk having to break her heart. I liked her sure, but I wasn’t in the market for a girlfriend. I wasn’t looking to fall in love, and I liked the casual dynamic we had.

“You haven’t talked about Elsie in a while?” She stated innocently.

I let out a sigh, “Yeah I know – I haven’t spoken to her since…everything.”

She hummed, nodding, “There’s something special about her isn’t there?” Her voice was casual, not happy, sad or jealous.

“Not this again.” I rolled my eyes, “I told you we’re just friends.”

“You don’t gotta put on a show for me Austin, I can see it in your eyes when you look at her.” Not a single trace of anger in her tone. “Hell, I can see it even when I just mention her name.”

I took a moment to gather my answer. I had gone over me and Elsie’s relationship a million times in my head, but each time it was like an ever-growing equation. The more I tried to solve it the less it made sense. “It doesn’t matter,” I stated plainly, keeping my eyes focused on some skyscraper in front of us. “She doesn’t feel that way about me.”

“Sure she does. I can see that too.”

“What are you, some all-seeing oracle?” Shaking my head, “No you just don’t understand, there’s nothin’ there.”

“Austin, if there’s anything I know, it’s girls.” She let out a giggle, “And there’s definitely something there.”

“Whatever, I don’t wanna talk about it anymore. It doesn’t matter, we’re – doing whatever we’re doing.”

“Fucking.” She clarified with a playful grin.

I laughed nudging back into her, “No, I really like my time with you. It’s fun.”

“Yeah,” Her tone dropped slightly, “I’m just a lesson girl.” Her eyes fell down to the pavement.

“Huh?” Looking down at her.

“You know,” She shrugged, wrapping her cardigan tighter around her body. “I’m always that girl. The girl you have fun with but not the girl you settle down with. I’m just a lesson; a bridge to that bring-home-to-mom girl.”

The words took me by surprise, and they made me sad for her.

Maybe I could be that for her. Maybe I wanted to be that? The one that doesn’t use her as a lesson.

Or maybe I just felt guilty, seeing as I too planned on being a temporary fix. This all started as a fucked-up game of blackmail after all.

My hand trailed down her arm and tangled our fingers together. I gave her a nudge, “You’re way more than a lesson ‘Pen.” Her girl-next-door brown eyes flickered up at me, “Not to me you aren’t.” She offered a sweet smile, looking like no one ever really gave her the chance to be more than a fuck buddy.

Once back at my loft it took no time for us to go another round. We flipped over on the couch with her propped up on top of me. She bounced on my cock sending a buzzing flare across my skin.

“Fuck.” I groaned, gripping onto her hips, helping to guide her rolling motions.

Small whimpers escaped her each time the head of my member embedded into the deepest part of her core. Her full tits bounced as she rode me, but I needed more. I wrapped my arms around her midsection to keep her place as I rolled my hips up into her, reaching new depths with the angular position.

“Austin!” She cried out, taking my control and took over the riding, this time even more frantic and messy.

The heightened sensation from the weed and whatever else she gave me earlier kicked in driving me dangerously close. “Fuck - you’re gonna make me cum if you don’t slow down.” I grunted through labored breath.

She nodded and fell onto me, her face and whimpers in my neck. “I want your cum baby, cum inside me please.” She begged, her hand working quickly on her clit chasing her own orgasm. From her rapid breathing it seemed she was close too.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” I moaned out, stealing control once more with my arms keeping her in place as I hammered into her in such a heated primal manner, for a brief moment I thought I might split her in two. Her moans and speed on herself matched my own, “Fuck I’m gonna cum.” I grunted, my thrusts into her sloppy and desperate.

As I reached my climax it seemed she did too, now taking over and fucking herself on my twitching cock as it spilled seed into her. Somewhere weaved amongst our curses and moans she uttered words I didn’t expect.

“I love you.”

My eyes widened immediately, and I expected her to stop but she kept going, riding out our highs together. She rode me until I had nothing left to give her. Until she finally fell on the couch next me, breathless.

“God that never gets old,” She exhaled then glanced over me with hooded hazel eyes. “Your dick is too good.”  She joked.

I forced a smile in an attempt to act normal, “You ride me too good.” My own chest rising and falling rapidly.

She used the back of her hand to wipe off a layer of sweat from her forehead. “Dickmatized.” She chuckled.

She was pretending nothing happened. Maybe it was just the “dickmatization” – whatever the fuck that means - or the drugs that made her say what she said. Hopefully that was the case.

The words scared the shit out of me.

She stretched over behind us to pluck a half smoked blunt from and ash tray, promptly lighting the end causing a burning crackle. As she put her lips and inhaled it sizzled red at the end. Her back landed next to me again, exhaling a thick puff cloud of smoke above us.

I plucked the brown roll from her fingertips and mimicked her actions. As the puff cloud seeped from my lungs, my eyes followed the swirls of smoke. Aspen’s mention of Elsie from earlier rang like church bells in my head. God, I missed her. I missed her laugh, her smile, our jokes. Even when I was high, I’d want to bring up our inside jokes, jokes that Aspen would never understand. As fucked up as it was, I wish it was Elsie here doing this with me. She stopped smoking with me after my breakdowns and she’d never do the things Aspen and I do. Not that I’d want her to – well, I guess in a selfish way I did. But I’d never let her.

It didn’t matter what I did or didn’t want from Elsie, I ruined everything. She wouldn’t take my calls and I didn’t blame her. Once I get my shit together, I’ll make it up to her. I’ll get sober and I won’t have to hide it from her anymore, I wouldn’t have to stay away anymore. We could go back to normal. I just needed to get this out of my system, like a last hurrah. This would be it. Forever. I’ll get sober and I’ll never touch anything ever again. But right now, I had it under control, and I was just having fun.

“Hey you okay?” The blonde nudged me obviously picking up on my dissociation.

“Yeah, yeah,” I snapped out of it, sitting up a bit. “Just uh- I think I’m coming down, we got anything over there?”

She stretched back over to the side table, holding her tongue between her lips while she focused. I heard a rattle of a bottle and just the noise relieved whatever internal struggle raged inside me. “A client gave me these, but I didn’t like them.” She shrugged, handing me the orange prescription container, “They made me sick, but you might like ‘em.”

I swiped the pad of my thumb across the label, “Thomas George” letting out a chuckle, “What kinda name is Thomas George?” I squinted reading the smaller print to see what exactly she handed me. “Oxycodone.” I read quietly exhaling when I realized what I was holding. “I’ve never tried these.” Looking up at her.

“You don’t have to take it if you don’t want to. I’ve heard that shit’s strong,” She slumped next to me, “But I think we only have coke left.”

That’s the last thing I wanted to hear, so far I liked coke, but I liked pills so much better. “Fuck.” I held the bottle up to my eyeline and shook the pills, the bottle half full.

How different could it be from anything else I’ve taken? It couldn’t be that different, right?

I nodded, “Okay, I’ll be fine right?”

She grinned, tucking a strand of pink behind her ear, “I mean, if it feels good, it can’t be bad right?”

Aspen wasn’t like me – not fully at least. She did drugs for fun, she had an inclination for some and really got stuck on others. But she had some way of not getting fully addicted to anything. I didn’t know how she did it, but it was hard to keep up with her.

But I had kept up so far and I didn’t want her to catch on that I might not have the same talent her. I couldn’t have her be another Elsie, especially after what she just said to me moments ago. I could handle myself, I had it under control, and I didn’t need someone monitoring me. And I didn’t want to end my fun with Aspen prematurely.

“You sure?” I propped a brow up at her.

She shrugged, “It’s up to you babe. I won’t be able to see him for at least a week.”

Just the mention of him, even without his name boiled my blood. I furrowed my brows at her, “Wait why not?”

“O-Oh,” She faltered like I just caught her in some secret, “Um, he’s on a business trip!” Her annunciation peaking up indicating there was something she was hiding.

“I know you’re lying, what is it?”

“I-I well u-um-“ She stuttered.

“Spit it out Aspen!” My voice louder and harsher than I intended, the Xanax comedown was beginning to hit me.

She flinched, “Um, they went on vacation.”

My brows lowered and I felt my pulse rising, “Vacation?”

“Um, yeah it’s uh-“ She looked down playing with her thumbs, “It’s their one year.”

I clenched my jaw, “And where did they go?”

“Uh- I think they went to Cabo?” She winced pulling back from me.

“Cabo!” My voice booming throughout the loft, and I could feel a vein pulse in my forehead.

She shuddered, “I’m sorry, I-I didn’t wanna tell you. I knew it’d upset you.”

Letting out a sigh, I squeezed my eyes shut. “I’m sorry ‘Pen.” Softening my tone, “I didn’t mean to yell like that. I’m coming down, okay?”

“It’s okay. I understand, I get like that too.” She kept her eyes down, playing with a stray thread on a pillow.

“Hey,” I picked her chin up to catch her eyes, “I really am sorry. I didn’t mean it. I don’t care about Cabo, I’m just pissed we have to wait for him to get back.” Lying straight through my teeth.

She relaxed her tensed body, “I can try to get something from the girls at work?”

“I’d really appreciate that.” The panic of our low stock and the vision of them on vacation began to overtake my mind. I needed to get it the fuck out. “You got water over there?” I winced at the thumping sound of my new upstairs neighbors, only worsening the pounding in my head.

She nodded and reached over, holding a cold glass of water for me. “Thanks.” Cranking the cap off the bottle with one hand and dropping a white pill in the palm of my hand. I tossed the pill back, taking the cup and swallowing it down with water.

“Now, how can I make it up to you?” I stretched behind us to place the glass down on the wooden side table.

The edges of her mouth curled into a soft smile, “Well we could-”

“Oh my god! What do they have a fucking elephant up there?” Pressing fingers into my pounding temple.

Aspen’s brows furrowed, “What?”

“The neighbors upstairs, it sounds like they’re playing Just Dance with cinderblocks for shoes.” I groaned spreading my digits across my eyebrows trying to ease the ache behind them.

She let out a small chuckle, “Babe I don’t think they’re even home.”

I rolled my eyes, “Are you serious? You haven’t heard them banging around and yelling for the past week?”

“No?” She laughed and nudged me, “I think you’re hearing things silly – or maybe you got...” She wiggled her fingers ominously, “ghosts ooooh.”

I curled my eyebrows together at her words thinking over the past week. “Yeah… maybe. I think I just have a bad migraine right now.” Shaking my head, thinking how the fuck she couldn’t hear the loud bustle from above. “How about we play some music?”

Aspen pulled herself up, “You have a migraine but you wanna play music?” She giggled, “You’re being so weird today.”

I stifled the kneejerk reaction to glare at her but just reached between us digging out my phone from the couch cushions. As soon as she saw me open Spotify and connect to my Alexa, she leaped over me. “Play something fun!” Tugging at my arm like a toddler, “We can dance!”

I knew if I didn’t give in to her, she wouldn’t drop it. I groaned like an annoyed boyfriend being dragged onto a dancefloor – which I guess, that’s exactly what it was. I begrudgingly peeled myself from the couch, mindlessly hit shuffle and dropped my phone on the couch cushion. The music lagged a bit before I finally met Aspen in the middle of my carpeted living room. She was clearly riding on her own high by the way she was bouncing around before the music even began.

An eerie calm began to wash through my veins and slow my brain. As the calming high from the pill ebbed in, I hadn’t even realized what song started playing until Aspen excitingly exclaimed, “I love Elvis!”

My heart plummeted into the pit of my stomach as the intro of Suspicious Minds creeped through the speaker. The nostalgic lyrics flashed memories of me and Elsie in my old dorm. Our impromptu performances were some of my favorite memories – they were innocent, careless, full of a forgotten hope that had long slipped from my fingers.

I could barely remember my life before Elsie, and I never thought there would be a life after her. I guess I always just assumed we’d always have each other. I never envisioned a time where I wouldn’t have her in my life or where we weren’t “Austin and Elsie” - nonetheless because of me. It wasn’t until that moment that the reality set in, that she may not forgive me. I wanted to believe that we could make it through anything, but this was uncharted territory. 

Seeing Aspen spin in Elsie’s place felt like a cheap replacement, like a knockoff designer bag or a low-quality pirated movie. The truth was that I missed her. I missed her so fucking much. 

Thankfully, the new drug seeping into my system began to numb my racing thoughts. The foreign feeling of it surprised me, it was reminiscent of Xanax but better - which I didn’t think was possible. If Xanax was a fluffy cloud, Percocet was an endless sea of silky fluff. The aching remorse faded into the background and the room seemed lighter than before. Aspen took my hand in an effort to get me to dance with her and for a split second I could’ve sworn it was Elsie. The initial excitement of the error didn’t disappear though and the music helped soothe the turbulence in my brain. 

If this was the bed I chose to make, maybe one constructed from sugary marshmallow fluff wouldn’t be so bad. 

Next Chapter -> 30 - It's Not Living (If It's Not With You)

Thank you for every like, reblog or comment, it means the world to me truly. I love hearing your thoughts and I'm glad you're liking my little story 💗

sorry this took so long - highkey this chp was so difficult for me to edit/finish for some reason, so, sorry if it’s not the best :/

Tag list: @cryingabtab @slowsweetlove @feverdreamcaoilainn @denised916 @julie181 @navsblog @michellelv @suspiciouselvis @presleysdarling @eddiesgorlie @ranaissingle @malachimochi @purejasmine

(if you'd like to be added pls comment 💗)

[haveyouseenherlately]

nsfw alphabet: cute & soft matty healy x fem reader

so, i'm not a writer whatsoever, but i have thoughts (a lot of them smutty tbh) about a certain matty healy and wanted to jot them down as i need to try and get them off this brain of mine.

i have a type and it's middle part sometimes straight hair sometimes curly silver chain baggy clothes wearing matty, who in my head appears shy and innocent at first due to his fidgety demeanour (eg. running hands thru his hair constantly, mindlessly biting his bottom lip, repeatedly tapping his foot, etc.) but is actually very opinionated and witty with the people he’s close to, including you. he’s been your bff for years but is afraid of taking it further because he adores you and doesn't want your friendship to be ruined due to his big feelings towards you. he loves to hug you to feel you close and breathe in your scent, but honestly, he doesn't (or tries to not) have much physical contact with you otherwise because his mind, heart, and body cannot take it. he's enamoured by you and has been for years now to the point where he is 96.7% sure he's really, really in love. that's how it all starts and you do eventually end up together, but it takes some time... oh, and he has a crazy sex drive and lots of dirty thoughts about you. a shy romantic horny opinionated man who is mostly a sub.

nothing super unique, just mostly here for the soft bf matty vibes because we all deserve one of those.

(sorry in advance for all the grammatical errors, typos, and run on sentences. i'm not a proofreader.)

warnings: 18+, lots of smut with some fluff. this is too fucking long lol

other bf matty blurbs & rambles here.

--------

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

this boy lives and breathes to take care of you, before, after, and during sex. anything he can do to make you feel safe, loved, satisfied. but his favourite form of aftercare is, hands down, using his mouth and tongue to make sure you're all clean. after he does so, the little ritual continues by spending time just softly kissing each other's lips. you both indulge in the lingering taste of each other's cum, but there's nothing dirty or aggressive about it. it's all gentle, a sweet reminder that you belong to each other.

b = body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

if matty were to choose his favourite part of his body, it would be his arms. after all, there's a reason why he keeps decorating them with tattoos. makes him feel confident about himself and, honestly, doesn't mind all the compliments either. bless him. but he also has grown to appreciate his unruly curly head of hair, the reason being that he knows how much you like it after all the tantrums you throw whenever he cuts it. before you get together, you only play with it when you're too drunk or high, but when you do so it makes his heart grow.

his favourite part(s) of your body are your hands. so delicate with silver rings adorning almost every finger. it's difficult for him to not watch when you rub them against each other when you're nervous. or how your hand finds itself in front of your mouth whenever you laugh too hard at his nonsense. he knows you prefer dark nail polish vs. lighter coloured ones. he has imagined countless times how your hands would feel on him. sigh. he worships those hands of yours and would kiss then every single second if he could.

after you do get together, he realizes that, as cliché as it sounds, he loves your cunt. for one, when he first saw you completely naked he thought he could just die happy right then and there. but that was until he got to taste you and decided he'd much rather be alive as he could never have enough of your sweetness. and how it perfectly fits around him? he swears he’s the luckiest motherfucker alive.

c = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

oh god. don't let the shy boy act fool you. he is FILTHY. it took a few months for this side of him to show, but you are over the moon when you find out how enthralled he is when he sees his cum dripping out of you. it all started one afternoon when you were riding him (his fav position of course, see letter f below). he finished inside you, his head thrown back over the couch while trying to catch his breath. after a few minutes, you raise your hips to pull away and carefully sit right below his stomach, making sure not too hurt him. once his breathing is back to normal, he looks back at you with those sweet tired eyes, gaze travelling down your body and ending at your spent core, where he notices beads of his white cum running down your cunt. the sight is almost too much for him, poor matty. he bites his bottom lip hard to stifle his whimpers, but somehow gathers enough courage to ask if he can touch you ("sorry sorry sorry i know it's gross. fuuuck. forget i said anythi--" "matty, calm down, baby. my sweet boy, it's okay. you can do it. i want you to.") his mind goes haywire when he brings his thumb to touch you, picking up a bit of his cum which he then rubs on your clit in small, gentle circles. sigh. but yes, cum is involved and you both love it. that's that.

d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

before you were officially dating, you once left a black shirt at his place, one of your favourites in fact! don't really know the specifics of why or how it happened, but you left it there and he found it. his sensitive soul found it difficult not to immediately grab it and put it against his face to smell your lingering scent. but it didn’t take long for his horny mind to take over and wrap the piece of cloth around his cock and get himself off. before he realized what he was doing, he had already stained your shirt and the shame he felt was unreal to the point where he could not look you in the eye next time you saw each other. “oh, btw, i think i left my top at yours. do you think you can bright it next time?” his face had never been more red in his entire life lol. it wasn’t until you were together that he confessed to it when you were playing an nsfw version of truth n dare in your living room because you were both drunk as fuck.

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

okay. so believe or not, this matty doesn't really do hookups. he's in a famous band, yeah, but he's not really looking to get off with people just for one night. he will only do it if he feels a spark with someone on some level other than physical attraction, but he prefers the intimacy and closeness that comes with a relationship. because of this, he hasn't had too many different sexual partners, but during those few relationships he worshipped his other half and did everything he could to learn every single little thing about how to please her in the best way possible. it takes him time to get there with every gf, but once he knows what you like, you will never be dissatisfied. tl:dr not too much experience when it comes to body count, but will excel A++++ all around with the partner he's currently with.

f = favourite position (this goes without saying)

without a doubt, you riding him while he’s sitting up. can be on the sofa, your favourite dining chair, the edge of your bed (his preferred place), the back of the tour bus, you name it. this man loves close skin-to-skin sweaty contact. he is eager to keep you near when you grind yourself on him, one arm tight around your mid back, the palm of the other gripping your ass, guiding your hips back n forth. this way he can also keep kissing your face, neck and shoulders whenever he wants to and feel your tits against his chest. it also allows him to look up at you as you bounce up and down his cock, this which might be one of his favourite sights in the entire world, just as if he were worshiping you.

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

for the most part the sex is a calm, sensual endeavour, but if something happens like his fingers getting tangled in your hair, him kissing your teeth, you accidentally tickling him, he'll be adorable and smile, letting out a soft laugh. you love that he's vulnerable enough to chuckle at a small mishap rather than him getting frustrated. he's too damn cute. you can barely handle it.

h = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

sweet matty knows you love going down on him (which he thanks his lucky stars is a real thing as he cannot get enough of your lips around him) so he tries to keep himself trimmed down there. you couldn't care less tbh but it's cute and rather hot to see him that invested in thinking of what will be best for you and your pleasure. funny enough, you would've never thought he did so given his current nonchalant way of dressing (baggy clothes, torn band shirts, messy gelled hair). but this boy does like to keep you guessing after all.

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

he cannot possibly be close enough to you (re. his favourite position being you riding him). you are his world and will hopefully always be, even if he had to wait what felt like a lifetime to finally have you romantically and sexually. both of you prefer slow and sweaty sex whenever possibly, filled with lots of sweet words and love you's and him nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck while you run your fingers through his hair. he's a shy horny romantic at heart.

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

our boy here has undoubtedly gotten off at the thought of you many, many times before you get together. whether it is him reminiscing about a certain memory and/or looking at photos of you, he's certainly done it. he's also been caught by adam when he's not-so-silently moaning your name while he's no-so-silently jacking off during tour. but because adam is a sweet soul and understands the hardships of missing the person you love, he doesn't give him too much grief over it (unless matty is getting on his nerves).

now, when you do end up together, there's a time when the two of you are high (you do that a lot), giggly, care-free and the topic of masturbation comes up for some reason. this is when it is confessed that you both had (obviously) gotten off at the thought of each other pre-dating and that ends up turning both of you on to the point where one of you suggests if you can watch each other do it. so that happens and mutual masturbation continues to be thing in your relationship.

and of course, matty still masturbates many times while he's away because you end up sending him short snippets of you pleasuring yourself. so he cannot help himself.

k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

it’s all about praising. he loves it. you love it. it's a win win situation for both parties involved and it couldn't be more perfect. because he can sometimes get nervous, your praises make him feel at ease. call him a sweet boy (his fav) and you’ll have him at your mercy. on the other hand, if you refer to him as a good boy, he will almost devour you alive.

one summer you were playing fetch with mayhem in the park “aww! who’s a good, sweet boy!?” and for some reason matty started chocking on the coke he was drinking “are you okay?” “yeah yes. cough. ‘s nothing. wrong pipe” “hm, okay if you say so.” five minutes pass and mayhem is cuddling with you while you scratch his ear “such a sweet, pretty baby boy, aren’t you mayhem? yes, of cour—wtf matthew, are you sure you’re alright?” you look back at him as he’s trying to aggressively clean the coke he spat out and landed on the crotch of his pants. after that you notice that he not-so-subtly tries to readjust his baggy jeans ever so often. you get a sneaky suspicion of what might’ve happened, but it isn’t until you are together for a few months that you test out your theory and praise him and he literally comes undone seconds after the words leave your mouth. he’s almost too much <3

l = location (favourite places to do the do)

vanilla answer, but your bed. the fact that he can have you in the place where you sleep just drives him crazy with lust. it's your space. it smells like you. you spend endless hours there resting, facetiming him, watching tv, (as well as pleasing yourself). so yes, your bed is a sacred temple to matty. amen.

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

before sex: wear any of his clothes and that's almost a sure way to get him turned on. especially his jumpers and shirts. once upon a time you two + the rest of the band went swimming. after you got tired of everyone cannonballing into the pool (because they're grown men boys), you stepped out and wanted to get out of your wet swimsuit asap because you hate the feeling of wet clothes on your skin. without really thinking, you just grabbed his jeff buckley shirt (i love jeff buckley btw), put it on, and since it is way larger on you that it is on him, you thought "lalalala i'm just gonna remove my swimsuit here since this shirt is roomy and no one will be able to see anything." as you're doing so, george has matty in some sort of headlock (because, again, boys) but as he's struggling to get out of it, his eyes end up in your direction as you're pulling the suit bottoms down. this makes him tense up and freeze in place, so now george has the upper-hand and submerges him underwater. when matty comes back to the surface, he's outta breath, huffing and puffing, and none made easier because (unbeknownst to you) your wet body and swimsuit have made his white jeff buckley shirt see though. and since then he cannot get enough of you wearing anything of his.

during sex: pull on his hair when you're riding him and it's game over. he'll immediately get a goofy toothy grin on his face while bitting his bottom lip and adoringly look at you thru half lidded eyes as if there is nothing better in this life (because of course, nothing compares 2 u).

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

absolutely nothing that could possibly hurt you too seriously. you two eventually get into some harsher tendencies and kinks, but it's always consensual. he'd never forgive himself if he caused you unwanted pain.

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

he absolutely loves both. he swears there is no better feeling than having your warm mouth around him but he's never too pushy or needy about it. you of course enjoy it too, but the best part about it is just seeing him come undone as he gets loud, sweaty, and shaky which is a sight you'll never grow tired of. and as mentioned on letter b above, he enjoys your cunt A LOT so he'll never miss an opportunity to go down on you. that tongue of his? unreal. but he's definitely noticed that your favourite is when he sucks on your clit so he spends majority of the time doing that. imagine you sitting on the edge of your bed, him shirtless kneeling down with your legs over his shoulders, and his head between your legs while his lips are wrapped around you, gently sucking and licking while you gently pull on his hair and tell him he's your sweet boy. it's heaven for the both of you.

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

more often than not, it’s slow and sensual as that’s something that both of you really enjoy. from one romantic to another, you cannot get enough of the passionate sex.

HOWEVER, fast and rough comes into play whenever he gets jealous as he cannot help himself. but it's not in a hard, mean dom type of way. more in a "i'm all yours. i want to make you feel so damn good and please you so you don't look at anyone else. please do anything you want with me" type of way. the first time he ever wants to have rough sex, he acts all shy and nervous when asking you if it's okay as it's not his norm. but you're there to guide him through and make it easy for him. <3

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

not really your or his thing, tbh. reason being that if you have sex, it never ends up being quick. you'd much rather be late to the event or appointment than to rush it. the amount of times he's been late to soundcheck is alarming, but it's not like they can kick him out of the band, right? one time when he walks into the rehearsal, flustered and with hair all over the place, he sees george about to mock him but matty beats him to the punch. "before you even fucking start, yes, i was having sex before this. yes, it was amazing. yes, i know i'm late again. that's it. i'm sorry. let's carry on." but the thing is that a sexually satisfied matty = amazing gigs, so the others cannot fault him.

r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

he’s down to try anything but only if you discuss it first so both of you are comfortable. again, he may look and act shy most of the time (especially with people he doesn't know too well) but he's known you for years so he's super comfy with you, thus he's game to do anything which might bring you pleasure as long as he doesn't seriously hurt you (as mentioned in letter n) because he wouldn't be able to deal with causing you any sort of lasting pain.

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

tbh one of the other main reasons he goes to the gym (see letter x) is so he can last longer for you. you both have insatiable sex drives (see letter y) so he wants to keep fit in order to try and fulfill any and all desires you might have. once you get together, it's no secret to any of your friends that you have a VERY active sex life that they can only dream of and matty loves to remind them that they’re just jealous when they do make fun of him for it. he’s cute.

t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

he didn’t think much about them at first UNTIL that one night he was over at your place and opened up your bedside drawer, hehehe. so hear me out... our boy loves getting high (especially with you) so he asked if you had any weed as he very surprisingly (i know, i'm shocked, too) forgot his own. you just looked at him with wide eyes like “whoa, wait. you forgot? are you okay?” while you jokingly felt his forehead to see if he was ill. he gently swatted your hand away and squinted in mock annoyance, “fuck off... but really, do you have any?” :insert big brown caramel puppy eyes: you motioned over to your bedroom and told him that your stash was in the drawer of your bedside table. he struts over, nonchalantly, humming a tune that’s been stuck in his head since that morning because you’d been listening to it nonstop. he gets to your room, stares at your comfy bed wishing he could sleep with you, in both senses of the word, because he's head over heels for you. he'd do anything and everything you'd ask him faster than the words could even leave your mouth. he sighs, knowing that couldn't happen because you weren't his gf :( anyway, he bends over to open the top drawer of your left bedside table and start shuffling around to find nothing but books, notebooks, photos (including one of him napping, awe). he moves on to the second drawer to find a black lidded box which he opens and to his surprise (or dismay) finds your toys which causes him to almost drop the box altogether. his eyes gaze over each of the vibrators and other small devices in there and he cannot help but think of you using them on yourself. siiiiiiiiigh. a "did you find it, matty?" is screamed by you which causes him to instantly come back down reality. the box is put away and he speed walks out of the room, heading straight for the kitchen to get a glass of water to hopefully rehydrate his desert dry throat after his discovery. "well, did you find it?" "nope, changed my mind. don't want any weed. i'm okay. i'll just drink my water. here. in the kitchen." when in reality he was standing behind the bar so you couldn't see how rock hard he was. fast forward to right before you go to bed that night, you want to get yourself off so you go to find your fav toy when you see that the box is on a weird angle with the lid not fully closed. then it dawns on you why matty had to very abruptly leave that evening.

BUT ANYWAY, after you get together and your enjoyment for toys is out in the open, he loves using them on you which is a huge turn on for you because it shows that the seemingly shy boy is actually super confident when it comes to your sex life together.

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

much like the cum play (see letter c), it took a bit for matty to feel comfortable enough to be a tease while you were having sex. he's not too much of a dirty talker (if you haven't noticed yet, he's a sub in this world of mine, sorry) BUT he eventually finds out that you love begin edged. so yeah, he has fun with that, going down on you over and over again until you are screaming.

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

poor matty tries to stifle his moans, whimpers, and any other sounds that come out of his mouth but it doesn't work well for him as he always ends up being the loudest out of the two of you. this is another thing his bandmates always tease him about, as they can always hear when he's getting off on the tour bus or having sex with you in another room. and this is another instance where he reminds his mates that they're just jealous because of his amazing sex life.

w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

remember how i said i have a type and he's a chain wearing matty? well, once you both start having sex, he very quickly finds out you fucking love pulling on that chain to bring him closer to you. he also notices how you tend to kiss around the area where in sits around his neck. your obsession about it becomes 100% confirmed when he sees that the background of your phone is a photo of him shirtless but still wearing that silver chain. so he knows that he always has to wear it, a quiet sign that you control him. but one morning after his shower, he comes running to the living room, huffing and puffing that he cannot find his necklace until he looks at you. you just smirk and wink at him when he sees the chain around you. oh, he doesn't know what he's in for.

x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

he once heard you say how you were starting to find "more conventional, muscular men" attractive so he took this as his cue to immediately look up the number of the best and closest personal trainer he could hire. fast forward six months and you're at his flat, drinking and listening to music with the band. who knows what happens (probably george's fault) but matty ends up spilling his glass of wine all over his shirt. UGH. "fuck me. it's embarrassing how many clothing items i've ruined 'cause of this expensive habit." you laugh loudly at him, obviously, but karma gets you once he takes off his ruined top so he's just standing there in his dangerously low rise grey joggers. that shuts you up as you just stare at the muscles on his back and the mostly defined v shape above his crotch. matty leaves the room to get a clean shirt without noticing you basically drooling over him. however, perceptive handsome ross does pick up on the vibes and teases you for the remainder of the evening.

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

high. higher than anyone you've ever been with and you're thankful for it. albeit it is PAINFUL when he's away on tour for months at a time, especially when you cannot go and see him :( no matter how many photos or videos you send each other, it's never enough to satiate you desire to have him close to you. the only silver lining is when you both do end up back together, as you both know you won't be sleeping that night and won't be going anywhere else the day after.

z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

once the soft making out session is done (see letter a), he's gone. he's a sleeper. he's a napper. he's the big spoon and holds you close, lazily kissing the back of your neck before he settles himself against it. again, he's all about that close contact, gotta love him. but give him 3 minutes MAX and he'll be out. a tired boy has to rest, i guess <3

--------

ALRIGHT. that's enough for me rambling. not sure if anyone will see this but my mind feels about 12% lighter for now. until the next brain rot takes over.

if you happened to make it this far, you're a gem. thank you. you're the best. and i'm always free to talk about this man and smutty thoughts about him!

[sohnric]

paris – l. juyeon

pairing: lee juyeon x fem! reader

genre: exchange student! juyeon in paris (ft. his erasmus friends). friends to ???, angst, fluff. actually, the genre is longing. halloween party au but the halloween part plays like,, 0 part in the fic, basically. idk the paris pics did something to me he is so european coded. paris by the 1975 without the drugs in a fic, essentially

warnings: cheating from yn's side, swearing, alcohol, smoking. the reader is canonically french im sorry 💀

word count: 6k

There’s quite a few reasons why Juyeon never told his friends from home about you- the girl he met on his student exchange trip. Some were the cause of Juyeon’s insecurities in himself, some the cause of your relationship status, all the cause of his unrequited love and the way you broke his heart, making Juyeon’s whole memory of Paris a bit hazy and bittersweet and the leave, paradoxically, that much harder. But still– and maybe you’re the reason for it– oh, how he’d love to go to Paris again.

a/n: do NOT cancel me for being a casual matty healy enjoyer i am a 2014 tumblr girlie at heart

“And where are my gifts? Where are the souvenirs?” Hyunjae calls after the boy that’s still kind of jet lagged from the flight (even though it’s been 3 days since his landing and he slept the whole day after his brother picked him up from the airport), the latter looking at him with tired eyes. 

“That’s all you want from me after not seeing me for 6 months?”

“Yes. Where’s my baguette?” Hyunjae glares, making the younger boy whine at the request.

“I didn’t know you wanted a hard rock baguette from me. If I had known, I would’ve taken one with me and smashed it against your head the moment I arrived here.”

“Well, if it’s authentic,” Hyunjae shrugs, laughing. “I’m just joking… I know we’ve been calling and texting like, every other day, but let me ask again. How was it?”

Juyeon finally smiles at his friend’s question. This is what one expects after coming home from studying abroad for 10 months– not a souvenir request. And trust me, Juyeon did bring gifts, out of the warmth of his own heart, but after being asked for them, he kind of doesn’t want to play Santa anymore. Kind of like when you decide to wash the dishes, but your mum tells you to do it at the same time of your decision– the motivation fades away the mere second you’re requested to do the thing.

“Well, it was good,” he shrugs, “it was… something,” Juyeon says– because how does one fit 10 months of their life into a few sentences without stammering– and before he gets a chance to say anything, Hyunjae catches him off guard with another inquiry.

“Is it true, by the way? Are European girls really prettier?” he grins, wiggling his eyebrows at the boy as if to suggest something– but all it does is make Juyeon shrug, acting not really bothered with the question. 

“Dunno,” he hums, “I think it’s equal to here.”

“So you’re telling me you went 10 months without getting laid in France?” Hyunjae gasps, making Juyeon furrow his brows in utter disbelief.

“When did I say that? Or anything that would even suggest that?” 

Now, this was a trap. Juyeon is too gullible. See, Juyeon was pretty transparent with everything during his calls with Hyunjae back when he was in Paris. He told his friends back home all about the European food, the rock-hard french baguettes, the weird looks and annoyed sighs he got when speaking English to the clarks in the shops, the cold showers in his accommodation and the pretty park in front of his university building. They also know all about his friends from Paris– the international students he met in his course like Shotaro from Japan, Bence from Hungary and Marco from Italy– but when the question of girls came around, specifically in the romantic light of things, Juyeon went awfully quiet. You can’t blame Hyunjae for getting into suspicions.

“So you did?” Hyunjae gasps, grasping at the straws.

Juyeon sighs, reaching for his bag. His awfully big hand slips inside of the black backpack, fingers touching various things before he brings out a bunch of gifts: a keychain with the Eiffel tower, some magnets, postcards, a fashionable beret he found in one of the souvenir stores but never saw anyone actually wear in the whole 10 months in the streets of Paris, some perfume and high quality chocolate. Hyunjae’s eyes go wide, making satisfaction swim through Juyeon’s veins at the sight– he managed to deflect the attack.

Sometimes, having materialistic friends is a plus.

As he watches Hyunjae touch all the things on the table, fingers trailing over metal and the shiny wrapping of the dark chocolate with an acknowledging nod, Juyeon takes out another thing out of his bag– his digital camera that he brought along for the ride. He sent his friends a lot of pictures when he was in Paris, and he also posted quite a few on Instagram for everyone to see, but the camera held more memories and more moments than anyone’s ever seen before– it’s a source of treasure for himself as well, but he figures it wouldn’t hurt to share a glimpse with his best friend.

“Wanna see? I took tons of pictures, but you can look through only the interesting ones, if you want to,” Juyeon hums, offering the camera to the male, the display already shining at him from the gallery, small icons of all pictures on the SD card in a 3x3 row on the small thing. 

A few pictures of the town are on preview right now, but if you scroll through the gallery, moments of his friend Marco’s birthday party that his friends threw for him, or the snapshots of his friend’s faces come into sight– Juyeon’s sure Hyunjae’s eager to see how all of the people he’s been talking to him about look like.

Hyunjae nods, taking the camera from him and squinting at the little icons. His fingers move along the touch screen and scroll through the gallery, eyes zooming on the interesting ones and grinning as he shows them to Juyeon, awaiting the backstory of a certain image. 

Everything goes well, until Hyunjae gets to the latest pictures on the SD card– well, apart from the ones Juyeon took from the window on his flight home. And Juyeon really doesn’t know what he was thinking, but hey– sometimes he doesn’t think things through as much as he should�� and that’s why when a particular photo comes into his best friend’s sight, turning the camera towards Juyeon with a shiteating grin on his face, the question ‘Who’s that?’ makes the poor boy a bit shaken.

His tall figure, standing alongside someone shorter– you, in your vampire costume, fake blood running down the side of your mouth, a hand thrown over his shoulders and your side pressed into his a bit too close as he stares down onto you with an obviously star-struck face, suit covering his body in a poor attempt at Joker’s costume– the moment stares back at him like a haunted memory.

He clears his throat. “That’s… that’s just Y/N.”

Hyunjae hums, having a staring contest with the picture on the screen. The date on the bottom reads 31/10/23, the last day of Juyeon’s stay before he had to go home. “How come I’ve never heard about Y/N?”

“There wasn’t much to say, I guess,” Juyeon shrugs, taking a sip from the bottle of beer on the table.

“Sure…” Hyunjae doubtingly nods, scrunching up his nose in disbelief.

“I’m serious. She’s just a friend I met there,” Juyeon offers, licking his lips in nerves. 

And it’s the truth– you were just a friend and there really wasn’t much to say about you two– so why does Juyeon’s heart hurt a bit as he recognizes the events of the night as if it happened yesterday? Why does he feel nostalgic, maybe a little bitter about the way you two left off? 

Hyunjae doesn’t know, but there’s quite a few reasons why he never heard about you in the first place. Some were the cause of Juyeon’s insecurities in himself, some the cause of your relationship status, all the cause of his unrequited love and the way you broke his heart, making the whole memory of Paris a bit hazy and bittersweet and the leave, paradoxically, that much harder. 

But still– and maybe you’re the reason for it–

oh, how he’d love to go to Paris again.

31/10/2023

The buzzing of the room makes Juyeon’s already thumping head ache in its crevices, the smell of alcohol in the breath of everyone talking to him only making his stomach twist and turn with acid. He’s had his fair amount of drinks himself, but there is a very faint line between the amount that’s just enough to keep him going through the night and the amount that makes him puke and have a two-week hangover, and with the flight home he has to take tomorrow afternoon, he doesn’t think drinking more would be a good idea.

“Don’t break it!” Juyeon tiredly hurries out as he sees his friend Marco handle his camera, the device almost falling out of the foreign friend’s hands. 

“I won’t! Hold on, let me just–” the Italian mutters, the coating of vodka shots and the cheap red wine (made to look like blood to keep things festive) making his words slur together as he speaks. 

Juyeon reaches towards his drunk friend (while also questioning how he’s going to take a plane back to Italy tomorrow in a very hungover state) and tries to pray the prized possession out of his hands, but comes to a fail as the tall man waves him off with a theatral arm wave, shoving the poor boy towards the white wall and putting the camera up against his own face. “I’ll take your picture! So you can– you only take pictures of us, Juyo,” he rambles on, “I’ll take your picture so you can show it at home to your friends!” Marco grins, having Juyeon aimlessly sigh and stretch out his lips into a fake smile, waiting for his friend to take the picture so he can get his camera back to safety.

“Me too! Me too!” he suddenly hears from somewhere to his right, and before he has the chance to decipher the owner of the female voice, a weight on his shoulder tells him you just jumped at his side– almost topping him over and into the spooky decorations to his right– as you giggle into his ear. “Have it?”

“Aaaalmost!” Marco stretches out as he squints at the camera– and in the spare few seconds before the shutter goes off, Juyeon allows himself to stare down at your figure glued to his side. You’re wearing a dark lipstick on your smile, a drip of fake blood rolling down the side of your mouth. There’s a corset top enveloping your middle and a flowy black skirt only pulling the whole look together even with the absence of fangs– and while you don’t suck out his blood, Lee Juyeon can physically feel how you sucked out all oxygen out of his lungs in your sexy vampire costume. 

He’s seen you around tonight, but he never got the courage to walk up to you. Something about this being his last night in Paris might be the reason why. 

He was simply too bummed out about how things between you and him never went further than fits of laughter in class as you helped him with his French, or friendly hugs when you bid him goodbye at the corner of his street. Maybe it was his own fault for falling for someone so out of his reach. He always knew his stay in France was temporary– hell, he was an exchange student, he was aware of what he was getting himself into– but still, he couldn’t help but recognize the familiar warmth in his stomach whenever you were around and the strange racing of his heart whenever you were close enough for him to smell your shampoo for what it was. He was completely, utterly smitten with you– a french local that would be erased out of his lifestyle as soon as he lands back home in Korea.

The shutter of the camera is all it takes to break his train of thought, making him snap his head back to his Italian friend. A sigh of relief is heard in the room as Juyeon finally reunites with his digital camera (he was surprised to see Marco let go of it so easily), and before he has the chance to think of a conversation topic to indulge in with you, you have his words catching in his throat at your own pace of speech.

“Have you been here for long?” you ask, flattering your eyelashes at him. Juyeon gasps before he presses his lips together into a tight line, shrugging.

“A bit.”

“Why haven’t you said hi?” you frown. “You said it’s your last night! You wouldn’t leave without a goodbye, would you?” you shake your head at him, playfully poking his shoulder with your pointer finger.

He was going to. Not anymore, he guesses.

“No,” he disagrees instead, “I was gonna look for you when it was my turn to leave,” he quickly comes up with an explanation, having your features relax as a warm smile overtakes your pretty features again.

Even with your face all bloody and your eyes having dark circles under them from eyeshadow (and mascara that weared off a little, which you were completely unaware of), Juyeon finds you absolutely, utterly and fascinatingly beautiful. He’s glad no one is able to read his inner monologue– or else he’d be the one with blood running down the side of his face. If the punch to seal the cut would be coming from you or your boyfriend, he’s not quite sure. 

Maybe both. The main thing is, you’re taken and his feelings aren’t reciprocated. 

Which is why his silly crush on you that maybe, just maybe, turned into something more meaningful was that much damaging to his poor soul. 

Because Juyeon swears he never loved anyone before, but after spending the night with you drinking cheap wine in his empty dorm room on his birthday completely alone– since it fell on a Sunday this year and he didn’t have that many friends yet to celebrate with, only having spending 2 weeks in Paris at the time– during which you taught him French swear words and kissed his cheek goodbye (which he thought may be a cultural thing, although he wasn’t sure); after all of this, he felt like you’re the person he’ll think of when someone asks him about his first love when he's old.

And even if he had the balls to do anything about it (which he didn’t), he simply couldn’t. You were out of reach.

“You’d better,” you hum, “or else I’d hitchhike a plane and come over to Korea just to kick your ass.”

“You can’t hitchhike a plane, you weirdo.” 

You sigh, shaking your head. “Of course I can. Watch me.”

Juyeon finds himself grinning at the adorable determination in your voice. It makes him feel a certain type of way that he knows he shouldn’t– but after spending 10 months with the feelings (5 of which you were single, 5 of which you’ve spent dating your boyfriend) and absorbing the idea of leaving you and everything behind tomorrow, Juyeon no longer feels as guilty about the act of loving you. Not anymore– not tonight.

“I like your costume,” Juyeon comments, pointing to the attire you’ve dressed yourself in.

“Really?” your eyes light up. “Look, I even wore the bow my idiot of a boyfriend said looks tacky,” you say, making a little twirl for the man. Your skirt flows nicely in the air and you stumble a bit due to the alcohol in your system, but when Juyeon catches you by your forearms and steadies you, there’s a content smile sitting on your lips despite your previous sentence.

“It looks pretty on you,” Juyeon hums, nodding. “It’s not tacky at all.”

“I always knew you had more taste than him,” you sigh dramatically, making Juyeon question your actions. 

Oh? 

“Anyways, I like your costume as well,” you comment. 

“Thanks,” he says, although his half-assed attempt at a Joker’s costume wasn’t anywhere near your level of preciseness, “Shotaro was supposed to go as Harley to match with me, but he pulled out of it at the last minute,” Juyeon pouts.

“Gosh! That would’ve been fucking amazing,” you laugh, swatting your friend in the arm playfully– the way you always do when you laugh– but as you come down from it, there’s a bitter tone in your voice. “I asked my boyfriend to wear a couple’s costume too, but he said all my costume ideas were lame.”

“Y/N–” Juyeon starts, wanting to speak up about the matter very obviously present in the conversation, wanting to console you, say anything, but you cut him off again– your courtesy– with a shrug and a grin on your face made to mask your true emotions (didn't work. Juyeon knows you too well).

“It’s okay. That’s why I dressed up as a slutty vampire just to spite him,” you say. 

“What’s his costume?” Juyeon asks.

“Not sure. I think he just bought the Scream mask, or something,” you mutter, rolling your eyes at the male.

And now, Juyeon was never big on gossip. But if gossiping meant poking fun at your boyfriend, the last night before his plane back home takes off is not the time he’s passing on a snarky comment. “Lame.”

“I’m so glad we are on the same page, Juyo.”

His heart leaps at the nickname– a lot of people call him that, but the tone you say it in, the sweet melody of your voice as you throw it at him like a promise (of everything and nothing at all– you’re fond of him, but never fond enough), only you have this effect on him when you call him that. He wishes he had you saying his name recorded, documented somewhere on his phone, your accent and all, so he could hear you say it when he foolishly misses you in the middle of the night, like he knows he will when he lays awake at home, in his tiny, silent room.

“Do you want to get out for a bit? It’s getting too hot in here,” you say as you wave yourself, hoping to cool off, but failing miserably with the heat created from the bodies swimming through the house, and Juyeon finds himself nodding at your question.

Your feet drag you outside of the house, the cold breeze instantly cooling down your sweaty bodies. You two stand on the front porch together, watching the world around you revolve in a fast, yet slow manner– there are couples making out in the corner of the yard, one of them pressed up against the tree, and friends chasing each other down in zombie costumes, passing by bottles of alcohol between each other. 

Juyeon hears you hum, making him turn his head towards you and see you offering a cigarette to him. He'd never been much of a smoker before, but Europe taught him to never turn down a cigarette when offered, and so he only takes out one out of the pack, watching you mirror his movements. You fish for your lighter in your bra (and Juyeon finds himself too mesmerized to look away during the action), clicking it and putting the flame against the cigarette trapped between his lips.

He doesn’t know what it is about the action that makes his eyes hooded as he watches you– noticing the forgotten speck of glitter from some step of your makeup routine under your eye, making him want to swipe his thumb over it and take it off for you– but he can’t get his gaze off you as he breaths in the smoke, his head going more fuzzy than it has been only a few minutes prior.

When Juyeon’s cigarette is lit, you move to light your own, all while the male watches you with almost a dreamy look on his face. Somehow, he’s glad no one’s watching you. He doesn’t think he would be able to conceal his feelings for you tonight.

“Are you gonna miss this?” you suddenly ask, looking up at him from his right.

You? Absolutely. 

“I think so,” he nods, “it’s a lot different to home, but I made a lot of memories here.”

He watches a hint of smile spreading over your features. “Do you remember when you accidentally told our professor you were horny instead of excited?” you laugh.

“Oh, shut up,” Juyeon laughs at the memory. His French never really got to a perfect level– that’s why most of you settled on speaking English between each other– but the first few weeks were a living hell of a language barrier for Lee Juyeon. “The more concerning part is that this is what made you approach me,” he notes.

“Well, I recognised that you needed help, and I was willing to provide it,” you say, taking a drag out of the cigarette and blowing the smoke into his face.

Juyeon looks at you through the smoke cloud, snickering. “I’m kinda grateful, though. You were the first friend I made here.”

You look at him with a tender look– something so full of care Juyeon swears he feels his stomach doing somersaults– before you press your lips into a solemn smile. “Well, I’m honored, Juyeon Lee,” you drag out in a posh accent, making the boy break out into a laugh.

He takes another drag off the cigarette, inviting the nicotine into his system. Mixed with the alcohol in his veins and your aura surrounding him, he almost feels on cloud 9, like he’s flowing in space and he can’t get down. He watches as you lean over the railing of the porch, forearms meeting with the metal in a set of goosebumps. Breeze flies through the air, making your barely-clothed figure shiver.

He knows he probably shouldn’t. Your boyfriend is somewhere inside, and although you two are seemingly in a weird sort of fight, it’s not his place to act as a gentleman. 

Still, Juyeon finds he has nothing to lose. He shrugs off the suit jacket he’s been wearing and drapes it over your shoulders wordlessly, noticing the way you look back at him over your shoulder with a soft smile on your lips. 

A comforting silence overtakes you two. Juyeon takes the last drag off the cigarette and puts it out on the iron railing, enjoying the effect your sheer presence has on him. The music coming out of inside is only a mere background noise now, providing him an occasional distraction to the buzzing of his own thoughts.

“Say, Juyo,” you start, “do you know where Dorothy lives?” you ask.

Juyeon hums in disagreement. “Don’t think I do. Why?”

“I’m sleeping over at hers tonight,” you mumble, mentioning your best friend– the girl Juyeon’s met plenty of times in the 10 months of knowing you. “I was supposed to stay at Andre’s, but I’m not talking to him right now.”

“Oh,” is all Juyeon says. The mention of your boyfriend always throws him off the track a little.

“I dunno where Dorothy went, but I’m getting kind of sleepy.”

“Why can’t you just go home?” he asks.

“Juyo,” you laugh, “my parents would kill me if I got home tipsy and smelling like cigarette smoke. Don’t you know how they are?” you joke, shaking your head in disbelief.

He doesn’t. He kind of wishes he had the chance to know, though– because if he knew your parents, maybe it would imply something. Signify something more.

“Do you want me to walk you to Dorothy’s?” 

“Yeah,” you nod, lids heavy. Juyeon doesn’t know what time it is, but the last time he checked, it was well past midnight– he doesn’t think he’d stay around much longer himself.

“Okay,” he nods, watching as you slowly peel yourself off the railing and wear his suit jacket properly, the fabric drowning you, but keeping you warm. The sight, the sentiment of it, makes Juyeon’s hands shake and his throat go dry. You’re so close, yet so out of his reach.

Your feet are slow as you march towards the direction of your best friend’s house. Juyeon doesn’t know how far it is, but he wishes for you to take the long way home– if those are the last moments he has with you, he wants to drag the evening out the best he can.

The night is quiet. The only thing ringing in your ears is the sound of your own footsteps, when Juyeon surprises himself with the question that noisily cuts out of his throat.

“Why don’t you break up with him?” he asks.

He expects you to go mad at the question– you were known to have quite the fierce temper. You and Andre have had a few problems in the past: he was known to be reckless with his snarky comments that somehow hurt your pride, his nasty behavior when he got drunk, and the not-so-happy opinion your parents had of him. You were known to blow things out of proportion, screaming, crying and making a scene whenever you could if you thought it was appropriate, known to talk about your conflicts with your friends and digging out opinions out of them on the matter.

Juyeon always made sure to give you lukewarm arguments whenever you asked him about your boyfriend. Never too heated to make himself seem suspicious. Your relationship was none of his business.

Again– tonight, though, he has nothing to lose.

“I dunno,” you shrug, your steps a little uneven on the pavement, “it’s… a matter of habit, maybe? It’s weird,” you say. 

The explanation gives Juyeon just about nothing. A matter of habit? Is it a habit to stay with someone? Was there not more needed for a relationship?

Juyeon doesn’t find it in him to reply. Instead, he lets you talk.

“I think I might love him, or something. I’m not really sure…” you mumble, the sentences breaking Juyeon’s heart a little by little, shattering it right in front of you on the pavement, “because if I didn’t, why else would I put up with all of this?” you ask, not really expecting an answer.

“All the shaming, the spiteful remarks. The pettiness, the silent treatment… tell me, Juyo, do I have any dignity?” you laugh, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Y/N…”

The snicker that escapes out of you quickly turns bitter. Your body grows impossibly closer to his, your hands sneaking around his bicep. You walk with linked arms, your head falling to his shoulder. “I don’t think I really love him, though,” you suddenly rebuttal, “‘cause like… I wouldn’t- I wouldn’t tell my grandkids about Andre, y’know? I think that’s the way you know. If you can imagine thinking so fondly about someone that you… that you’d mention them even in 50 years, ‘cause the memories still feel fresh and you’re delighted you once knew them, then…” you trail off, voice fading.

“Do you know what I mean?” you hum, pouting.

He does know.

“Sorry, I’m rambling–”

“No, I get you,” he reassures you, nodding to himself. 

“You always do,” you sigh, breaking Juyeon’s heart into a million pieces, “anyways, with that being said… I think I’m with him only because breaking up is too much of a hassle. And, I think I like the attention,” you splutter, laughing at yourself, “that’s… so desperate of me, I know. I’m starting to doubt if it’s even worth it.”

“He’s not,” Juyeon finds himself saying as you two cross the corner.

“You’re only saying that as my friend.”

“No, I’m saying that as your– as someone who cares…?” he stutters, mentally kicking himself for sounding so readable. Surely, you must’ve already noticed. If not from his current statement, then from the way he looked at you the whole night. You are a smart girl– you were always quick to point out the men that would soon hit on you when you were at the club. You have a good eye when it comes to others.

You only laugh, though. Oh, how Juyeon loves the sound.

“Thank you,” you hum.

You two fall silent for a while. Juyeon finds himself enjoying it. It feels comfortable– to walk with you through the emptied Paris, accompanied by the yellow lampposts and soulless streets. Only you two, your linked arms and his suit jacket around your shoulders.

“We’re at Dorothy’s,” you muse when your steps come to a halt, gesturing towards the silent, dark house on the other side of the street, “I think she’s not home yet, though. Her light would be on.”

Chewing on the inside of his cheek, Juyeon looks from the house and back at you, then back at the seemingly empty house again. “And now what?”

“I have to wait for her,” you shrug, “will you… keep me company?”

You don’t even have to ask. He’d always keep you company. 

“Well, I’m not just gonna let you stand alone in the street in the middle of the night, am I?” he playfully shakes his head in disbelief, but secretly enjoys the fact that he has more time with you before you have to pay each other goodbye.

“Always knew you were a gentleman.”

“Pretty sure that was my middle name,” he notes.

“I thought you said that was ‘handsome’ once?”

“I have two,” he laughs.

“Is that possible?” you tease.

“Of course! Look it up,” he says, turning to you as he talks. “My name’s actually Lee Handsome Gentleman Juyeon, it’s on my ID and everything,” he jokes, watching as your eyes turn into moon crescents and your throat lets out a fit of amused giggles.

Another playful punch to his shoulder. A happy sigh. A shake of your head, full of disbelief. 

“Damn, Juyo. I’ll miss you like crazy, you know?” you suddenly utter, making the boy’s heart fall down into his stomach. The implication of your words sounds a lot like a goodbye, and although he was aware of the fact that he was leaving before, he doesn’t think he really let the reality down on him until now. 

This time tomorrow, there will be no Paris. No Marco. No Shotaro. No Bence. No French locals, no bagels for breakfast, no shitty ass dorm room.

No you.

“I’ll miss you more,” he says. He thinks he’s right.

You’ll miss him like a friend. He’ll miss you like his first love.

You stare at him for a heartbeat. One, two– before you latch onto him, much like when you first met tonight. Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him close, head resting on his shoulder only when you notice his hands wrapping around your middle. Breathing in your scent, Juyeon focuses very hard to keep his heart rate in check– it’s hard to not falter under your touch when your nose buries itself into his neck, cold skin nuzzling into his hot one, hands squeezing him tighter.

Juyeon doesn’t think you’ve ever hugged him like this before. 

And now, you won’t ever again.

You break away from him only enough to still be in his hold, your forehead resting against his. The new intimacy between the two of you makes him gulp, eyes focused into yours– watching the silver and gold swirl around your irises, counting your eyelashes. Noticing the faint mole on the top of your nose bridge. 

Foolishly letting his eyes dip lower. Memorizing the shape of your lips with his gaze. Taking in a shaky breath when he feels your fingers playing with the hair on his nape.

“Will you tell your grandkids about Paris?” you ask, voice barely louder than a whisper. Juyeon would almost think you’re suggesting something with your question, but when you speak up again, the suspicion is proved correct. “Will you tell them about me?”

The boy drags his eyes up back to yours. He examines the intention. He finalizes that he has nothing left to lose. 

Tomorrow, this will all be a memory. A moment out of his reach– much like you, all this time. A moment of time he experienced and won’t ever get back.

“I will,” he nods, swallowing. “Will you?”

You smile at the boy, the curve of your lips capturing his attention again. If anyone asked, he’d tell them it’s pure biology– the way his eyes zoomed in on your mouth the moment your expression changed. That’s how attention fluctuates– he learned about it in class somewhere, he’s fairly certain.

Why he’s unable to look back into your eyes after the question is a matter of something else, though.

“I think I might,” you breathe out.

There’s buzzing in his fingertips as he relishes the moment. The sentiment makes his knees weak, his brain fuzzy, his sight blurry and a little hazed. When he finally catches a glimpse of your gaze, he finds it glued to his mouth. 

He could take it as an invitation. 

He won’t, though.

“Kiss me?” you ask, whispering.

He shakes his head in disapproval. “I can’t.” 

Not when you’re taken. Not when he’s aware. Not when he knows you might regret this in the morning.

“Can I kiss you, then?” you ask. 

That, however, is a whole other situation. 

You asked to. You're making the first step. He doesn't have to feel guilty– who cares whether either of you might regret this decision tomorrow.

A simple nod–

that’s all it takes before you lock your lips with his. Your mouths move against each other with a passion he’s contained for his whole stay. You taste like vodka and orange juice, the slickness of your lip gloss making Juyeon’s lips slide against yours with more ease. He kisses you like you’d kiss your first love– with everything in him, with everything he is. 

He kisses you in a way that shows he wants to remember this forever. In a way that makes you lean even closer, pressing up firmly against him as you angle your head to make the kiss deeper. One of your hands moves from behind his head to twist itself deeper into his hair, tugging a little at the root to make the boy gasp under your actions. That has you inviting your tongue into his mouth, eager to taste him, to explore.

Juyeon doesn’t think he’s ever been kissed like this. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt so vulnerable, so open while kissing someone. This is him with his heart on a plate, naked and ready to be stabbed, squished by the weight of circumstances breathing onto his back.

His cold fingers move along your sides. Your hands settle on his shoulders to steady yourself, head pulling away to gasp for oxygen.

You look so pretty when he opens his eyes. Lipstick smudged and eyes blown out, hair a little messy from the October wind. He’s like an addict presented with his favorite drug– he can’t get enough, he can’t resist as he chases after you, leaving kisses along your jaw and the corner of your mouth, where the blood is, slowly meeting your lips again in another lock.

Everything else disappears. In this moment, there’s just you, you, you…

No flights. No weight of his own conscience. No boyfriends, no unsaid feelings. 

No regret.

And Juyeon thought he had nothing to lose, but suddenly, with you in his arms, he feels as if he’s being stripped of everything he never even had, only got the glimpse of last minute, a few hours before he’s gone.

You lean away again. Juyeon watches you with big eyes. A smile appears on your face as you move a finger up to his face, cleaning up the side of his mouth off the dark lipstick you’ve imprinted on him. He feels fragile under your touch. One bad move and he breaks, falls apart under you.

“You have to come back to visit one day,” you whisper, cradling the side of his face.

Juyeon nods. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever get the chance.

But as you stand on your tippy toes and press a kiss to his forehead, making a million different fireworks erupt in his stomach, he doesn’t let himself think of that (im)possibility. He watches as you smile at him, locking your eyes in a gaze tender and soft, yet electrifying, holding something special.

Before you take off to meet your best friend walking up the other side of the street, you hug him one last time and whisper into his ear.

“Goodbye, Juyo.”

Seeing as you lock your arms with Dorothy, walking up into the silent house and never looking back, Juyeon lets himself feel the last hint of longing for someone he always knew would never be his. And it’s strange, because he hasn’t even left yet, 

but oh, how he’d love to go to Paris again.

[thefrontofmymind]

Make A Wish (matty healy x fem!reader)

You've been keeping your relationship with Matty secret from your friends. You have a good feeling it'll go the distance.

a/n: me writing??? who'd have thought?? anyway, i was in the mood for something sweet so i whipped this up, enjoy xxx

WC: 790

You always loved the song and dance around your birthday. The fact that you planned this exact party over a month ago, yet still got to act surprised when you came home to a gathering of all your closest friends with plenty of food and drink tickled you. In fact, it didn’t even faze you that Adam texted you just before you left work to ask if you could pick up your cake from the little bakery you loved near your office–even with a ‘pretty, pretty please’ added.

Over dinner, you looked over all the faces of the people who loved you enough to come tonight; old uni friends, a few close coworkers, and Matty and the band. 

Matty.

You two acted like friends in front of everyone else, but behind closed doors that was far from the truth. Lingering hands and soft touches, hot breathes and skin sheened with sweat, murmurs of forever and then even after that. You were enjoying the bliss of it, before it could disrupt anything with the group as a whole. Just the two of you.

You caught his eye every so often while you were in separate conversations–just the smallest smirk has he noticed you looking at him instead of devoting your full attention to one of Charli’s stories from an underrage rave she went to with her parents way back when. He could make you giddy like a teenage schoolgirl, and you loved every second of it.

You knew what was next after dinner plates were cleared and George quickly switched off the light above your dining table scattered with half-empty glasses and the odd vape. Cake time. 

Matty and Charli were slowly scooting out of your small kitchen–Matty holding the cake and Charli shielding the lit candles from the air with a lighter in hand.

You smiled, watching everyone sing the Happy Birthday song, giggling a little when it got to the point to sing your name and just about everybody came up with a different nickname of yours to say instead. The song ended with a cheer–and not soon enough, the melted wax off the pink candles was dripping closer and closer to the surface of the icing.

“Alright, make a wish!” Matty said as you got ready to blow out the candles.

You thought for a moment.

~~~

Sun was streaming through the cream linen curtains, just enough to wake you from your deep, sunken-into-the-bed, slumber. You let out an involuntary groan as you stretched the tightness from your shoulders.

You could hear footsteps coming down the hallway; not just soft, deliberate steps on the wooden floor, but also a set of small, quick patters coming closer and closer.

“Shh, okay?” You heard a whisper. “We have to be quiet in case Mummy’s still asleep.”

“Okay…” You heard an even softer voice reply.

The bedroom door creaked open. You closed your eyes apart from a tiny sliver. You could see two figures through your lashes–the man you’d grown to love after years of close friendship, and a tiny outline of a toddler with Matty’s same wild, curly hair, a little girl who you could barely keep up with most days.

“Okay, gently shake her,” Matty instructed.

You felt a cold, little hand on your shoulder. “Mummy…wake up! It’s your birthday!” She whispered, only a mere four inches from your face. It took everything in you not to laugh.

You slowly opened your eyes, and with a groggy voice said, “good morning, sweetie.”

“Happy birthday!” She exclaimed–a little too loud for how early it was in the morning, but you understood she was just excited. “We made you breakfast!”

You turned your attention to the plate and mug that Matty was holding; tea just how you like it and avocado toast with enough salt to soak up the sea.

“Thank you, my loves!” You said, gently taking the mug and plate from Matty, placing the cuppa on your nightstand and the plate in your lap on top of your duvet.

“Someone was a big help with mashing the avocado, huh?” Matty asked your daughter.

She nodded shyly, you were glad she didn’t inherit her father’s ego, even when it came to mashing avocado.

The three of you got cosy in yours and Matty’s king-sized bed, and Matty put Mulan on the TV against the far wall–it was your favourite Disney film when you were young and it was quickly becoming your daughter’s as well.

You never thought you could be this happy. This content. You got all you’d ever dreamed of and more, and you got to do it all with the person you loved the most in this world.

~~~

You smiled, blew out your candles, and hoped for the best.

[brnesblogposts]

matty healy drabble

pairing: fem!reader x matty healy

(reader wears glasses)

- - - -

Matty opened the front door to silence and darkness, usually when he got home in the evenings you were curled up on the sofa watching netflix or reading a book. You hadn’t text him to say you were going out or anything so you had to be in the house somewhere.

“darling?” He called out and got no response, Matty walked into the living room and awed as he saw your sleeping form on the sofa, wrapped in a hoodie so much so even your face was covered and a blanket over you. He removed the book that was in your hands making sure to save your page.

After he set the book down he debated whether to leave you be or carry you to bed, it was only about 5:30 in the evening and he hadn’t had dinner yet so he decided he’d leave you a bit longer while he ate. Before heading to the kitchen though he moved your hood up a little and pushed some hair behind your ear, he noticed you were still wearing your glasses and carefully removed them and placed them on the coffee table. One last glance that brought a smile to his face and he quietly retreated to the kitchen.

About 30 minutes later while he was eating the meal he prepared on the other end of the sofa from you he heard you make a soft sound and cooed. He finished his food and dropped the plate into the sink before coming back and lifting you into his arms careful not to wake you and carried you upstairs before laying you down and putting the quilt over you.

Not too soon after he got in next to you and you automatically snuggled into his side and everything was perfect.

—————-

reblogs appreciated!

[everythingdenied]

stubble-matty healy

a/n: hey loves <3 idk why i'm suddenly deciding it's a good idea for me to post my writing on tumblr again (or why the first thing is i'm deciding to post is just pure filth) but here we are. i've had this in my notes for aggeess and since everyone's in their matty era rn i thought i'd feed you all. pls be nice i am actually shitting it posting this. (also apologies to all my old moots who now have matty healy in their feed when they do not want him! love u all x)

warnings: just pure self indulgent smut tbh (but it's cute, I promise!) smoking, fem!reader        

wc: 1,691

I’d never really been an early bird. The morning air was always a little too cold on my skin for my liking and I didn’t much enjoy the taste of coffee, nor the sound of my alarm, which I set each night despite knowing I’d sleep through it every time without fail. My pillow never felt quite as fluffy as it did in the evening and the noises of the bustling city I’d grown somewhat fond of only existed to annoy me as I prised open my tired eyes. And yet, with him…I was every bit a morning person.

There was just something different about waking up to him. Even at 7am, with my alarm blaring from my phone and the barely conscious thought that I had to be up for a meeting soon flitting around my brain, I couldn’t help but smile to myself whenever I opened my eyes to see him beside me. Especially on those rare occasions like today that I woke up before him, languidly turning onto my side to see the man I loved still dozing peacefully.

He was such a pretty sleeper, his face nuzzled into the crook of my neck, lips parted and warm breath tickling my bare skin with each soft snore. His curls, which he’d recently developed a penchant for flattening down with obscene amounts of hair gel, were splayed out haphazardly on the pillow and I smiled sleepily at the sight, moving to brush a few stray locks from his eyes. I pressed a a featherweight kiss to his forehead and he stirred, a contented hum slipping from his lips, but didn’t wake, much to my delight. I so wanted to bask in this moment just a little longer, scarcely having the pleasure of seeing my boyfriend in a state so unadulteratedly vulnerable.

Minutes passed and, still draped in my sheets and his limbs that he’d aimlessly tossed over me in the middle of the night, I watched Matty with a sleepy smile painting my mouth. My eyes traced his every freckle which, after nearly four years together, I thought I’d become familiar with, only stopping when I noticed his eyelids slowly flutter open.

He yawned and sluggishly rubbed a fist against his eyes, dazed with sleep as he blinked up at me.

“Morning” I smiled, finding him wonderfully endearing when he was barely over the threshold of slumber.

“Mph, g’mornin…” He croaked out lowly, eyes falling shut again as he buried his head further into my neck, placing a sloppy kiss to my jawline. “How long have y’been awake?”

“Not long. Couple of minutes, maybe.” Matty hummed, lips never once leaving my skin as he peppered a listless trail of saccharine kisses from my jaw to my neck. His two day old stubble brushed against me and I giggled at the sensation, squirming under his touch. “That tickles…”

“Sorry.” He smirked, looking up at me with a familiar cheeky glint in his eye, still managing to tease me in his drowsy state. “Need to shave."

I shook my head, scratching the light shadow of facial hair that peppered his jaw.

"I dunno...I kinda like it. You look quite fit."

"Yeah?" Matty snickered at my words, his laugh a little rough with sleep, and nuzzled his cheek against mine, intentionally grazing my skin with his stubble. I pushed him away, biting back my playful smile.

"Stop it. You're gonna give me beard burn."

"You've never complained about that before, love..." He chuckled but pulled away from me, sitting up to lazily reach for the packet of cigarettes resting on his side-table, pulling a smoke out with his teeth.

I rolled my eyes, knowing exactly what he was implying and wanting no part of it. I had work in an hour or so; choosing to engage with him and his incessant virility was a dangerous game that I wasn't too sure I had the time to play.

"It's barely seven o'clock, Matthew. Get your head out of the gutter" I chided, eyes fixed on him as he lit his cigarette, the sheets pooling at his waist and his unruly curls flopping forward.

He grinned sleepily, blowing out a thin trail of smoke from the corner of his mouth before turning to look at me, propping himself up on one elbow. "S'always deep in the gutter with you, darlin."

Jesus.

I pursed my lips, suddenly feeling restless under his half-lidded gaze. He knew it, too; more than aware of the effect he had on me, especially at times like this where the border between love and lust blurred in the hazy morning light.

"Even when you've just woke up?" I cocked a brow, stealing the cigarette from between his fingers and taking a long pull.

Inching closer, Matty smirked and slipped a hand beneath my pyjama shirt, his thumb kneading soft circles against my waist.

"Oh, that's when it's at its deepest." Claiming the cig back, he took one last drag before stubbing it out in a nearby ashtray, wasting no time in pulling me flush against his warm body. His lips met mine in a matter of seconds and I practically purred; the first proper kiss of the day far better than the buzz any amount of espresso or nicotine could give.

For a minute or so, the two of us remained locked in a kiss, a barely-awake display of affection that only turned to desire when Matty's hands fell from my waist, fingers hooking under the cotton waistband of my underwear.

"Matty..."I mumbled against his mouth, brushing away his hand only for it to fall right back into position. "Mph...I've gotta get up for work."

He pouted, pulling away somewhat breathlessly.

"Please" His voice radiated with a fervent desperation. "I'll be quick. Jus' wanna taste you before you go."

"I-I dunno. I really can't be late again."

The heat between my legs said differently.

"Please, love..." He reiterated, almost whimpering now. "Promise you won't be."

He was already practically between my legs at this point, fingers splayed out against my hips as he planted sloppy kisses to my stomach, my shirt now somehow hiked up just below my breasts.

This man was going to be the death of me (and probably my career, by the looks of things.)

"Shit, Matt" I shook my head lightly at my the love of my life as he lay at the foot of the bed we'd shared for years, gazing up from between my thighs with sleepy adoration and the morning sun on his face. I could do nothing more than sigh in defeat. "Fine. But you're looking after me if I lose my job over you."

"Always" he breathed out softly.

It took him no time at all to pull down my underwear, letting them bunch up at my ankles as he turned his full attention to my thighs, which already glistened with my own slick.

"Fuck, love" He drew a sharp breath, languidly nibbling at the skin just below my pussy, leaving lazy, haphazard marks on my inner thighs. His grip on my hips grew tighter. "So beautiful."

"Thought you said you were going to be quick." I whined, bucking my hips slightly. Matty chuckled, his warm breath brushing my bare cunt.

"God, so needy" He quipped jokingly and I lifted my head from the pillow to shoot him a look. Brave words for a man who'd just practically grovelled at my feet for a taste of me. "Alright, alright. You don't need to tell me twice."

And with that his mouth finally got to work, lapping up my dripping arousal with a fervency that let me know just how much he desired me. Matty didn't always want to admit it; sincerity was difficult for him at the best of times, but he'd crawl into my skin if he could. Moments like this, when his mouth and attention was on me and me alone were his special way of letting me know that I was all his.

The speed at which his tongue worked at grew with each passing moment, no longer idly circling my clit. I gasped, hands grasping at his curls as I felt the familiar burn of his stubble against my inner thighs, an added sensation I was rarely lucky enough to experience. Thank fuck he hadn't bothered to shave.

"Feel good, gorgeous?" I let out a strangled moan in response and Matty hummed in satisfaction against my core, the soft vibration only bringing me closer to orgasm. "Good. S'my pretty girl."

He said nothing more, the room only filling with the sound of pleasure; my desperate whimpers and the sloppy sound of his tongue as it drew shapes against my bud intermingling in one sweet sonance. With each lick, I grew nearer to release. Matty knew my body well enough to know I wasn't far from cumming, feeling me writhe beneath him, mumbled expletives slipping from my mouth as he told me just how good I tasted.

"Nearly there, darlin'. Doin' so well." He quickened his pace, breathing heavily as he coated my pussy in his saliva. "Wanna cum for me, yeah?"

I nodded, although I wasn't sure he could see me, the coil in my lower stomach tightening.

"Y-yeah."

"Thought so" he breathed. "Go on then, love."

And I did, coming apart beneath him, loosing myself momentarily in a feeling of burning pleasure only he could ever elicit from me. I sung his praises, his name falling from my lips as he slowed, his featherweight kisses to my clit allowing me to ride out my high. Matty let out a throaty groan himself, getting off on knowing he'd done this to me.

Hazily flopping my head back against the pillow, I felt Matty clamber up the bed, watching me with loving ardor as my chest heaved.

He hovered above me, his hands positioned firmly on either side of my shoulders as he leant down to kiss me, his (not quite) beard glistening with my juices and his lips slick and wet.

"How's that for beard burn, aye?" He smirked against my mouth and, despite my exhaustion, I found just enough energy to smack his shoulder playfully.

"Dickhead."

[hrryshoney]

you’re asking me my symptoms, doctor

gynecologist!matty healy x reader

A/N: hii here’s beloved gyno!au. title is reference to Escapism by Raye lol. i’ll put warnings but def don’t read if this is gonna make u uncomfy. anyways this really came to me in a prophetic vision (slut hour daydreams) so i hope u enjoy and it lives up to expectations? and Shouts to everyone who i bounced ideas w and talked abt this Man w! ty ily mwah mwah

warnings: smut 18+, fingering, inappropriate actions in a doctors office, a bit of corruption maybe hmm idk, degradation, praise, taboo topics/power imbalance (doctor/patient), use of Y/N, dom and sub dynamics, problematic age gap maybe (reader is 22/23, matty is 29/30), dirty talk, etc..

You were sitting nervously on the exam table, leg bouncing up and down. Doctor’s offices always unnerved you, to say the least. The unnatural fluorescent lights with their buzzing, the cold chill, and sterile smell.

Today, though, you had to book your gynecologist appointment. Now, you’ve been to one gyno before, a woman whose practice was nice and small before you moved cities. Going into your third year of University, you wanted a change in scenery. Now, your gyno would be a man.

A kind woman with dark hair had just come into your room after knocking twice, giving you a hospital gown and a warm smile. Telling you to undress to your underwear and bra. That you should, “Sit tight! The doctor will be in soon.”

So, here you were. On the examination bed, awaiting your doctor eagerly. When you heard a similar knock on the door, but an imperceptibly firmer one, your head shot up. “Come in,” you cleared your throat and called out.

When the handle turned and your aforementioned Doctor walked in, you felt deceived. Deceived in the best way, though, because your Doctor was hot.

He was wearing a white coat, one with a silver tag that read MATTY, his medical badges hanging from the plate. With his glasses and the lightest dusting of gray through his black, curly hair. He couldn’t have been younger than his late 20s, if older than his early 30s. And as he reached out to grab the clipboard off the counter, you were able to see the smallest bit of black ink on his wrist.

He looked down at his documents, squinting slightly. He then set it back on the counter, walking about the room and getting some hand sanitizer from the dispenser. Your eyes are drawn to his hands immediately. When he clears his throat, you come to.

“Good afternoon, love. Y/N, correct? I see it says here you’ve only been to the gynecologist once before, and it was a female doctor,” you nod along to his words, watching him take a seat and hold eye contact with you. “Just wanted to let you know, you shouldn’t be worried. Just typical stuff today, alright?” You nod again, feeling smaller now. Even when he’s sat on his stool, he feels bigger than you.

“Gonna need your words, Y/N.” You can’t tell if he’s joking, even if you see the smirk on his face. Shifting in your seat, your gown ruffling below you, you manage a, “Yes, Doctor.” Through your dry mouth.

“Ah, almost forgot to introduce myself properly.” He laughs, but you swore you saw his eyes darken for a swift second. “I’m Doctor Healy, but you can call me Matty if you feel so inclined.” He grinned, and you felt like his words had a double meaning past the surface.

“You’re here for a routine checkup, I take it?” Moving over to the sink, pumping soap on his hands and running the water. “Lay back for me.” He instructed you as he washed, back turned. You listened without second thought, body going stiff.

You heard the tap turn off, Matty was drying his hands with paper towel now. He walked over to the table, standing above you and looking down. “If you don’t mind, can I ask you some questions before we begin?”

You began to nod, but remembered your reaction from earlier. Giving him another “Yes, Doctor.” he smiled easily. “Great… Now, are you sexually active?”

If you thought you were tense before, then you were like a board now. “Um, no.” You let your eyes flutter shut as you felt your skin heating, feeling terribly bare.

“Right, have you been? In the past?” was this a normal question to ask? Of course, they’d want to know of your bodily health. But of your… sexual activity as well? For you, though, there was nothing to report. Seeing as you were a virgin, which meant no sexual experiences other than yourself.

“Um, sorry, what are these questions for?” You couldn’t stop yourself from nervously laughing, your deflection of an answer hanging in the examination room.

Matty’s eyes dragged along your frame, going from your lips and then back to your eyes. You almost missed the beginning of his sentence when he spoke up. “All protocol, of course. It’s slightly awkward, but I’m obligated to ask. So?”

“So, no. I.. have not been in the past, or like, ever.” And you wanted to melt into the floor. Surely you would have to switch doctors after this again. Too embarrassing of a feat to face.

Another look and pause that goes on for much too long. Your stomach was starting to hurt. Well, maybe not hurt, but you needed to fix it and quick. When Matty claps and rubs his hands together, it snaps you out of it. “Interesting. Well, then, let’s begin.”

You noted that his pupils were huge behind the glasses, and his black slacks hugged his crotch very well. Did they look like that when he came in? You shifted again, trying to rub your thighs for some friction.

“Can I touch you?” His accented voice was deep and gravelly now. Leaving not much to the imagination of how this phrase might sound in a different situation coming from his mouth. His mouth, pink lips that he couldn’t stop licking, and slight stubble on his chin.

“Yes, Doctor Healy.” Your voice sounded submissive enough, and you almost yelped when his hand came down to grab your gown covered thigh. Roughly drawing circles with his thumbs into the spot. “Good girl. You’re tense.”

You shivered, eyes closing and opening again. The silence in the room felt so loud, and your doctor’s appointment was feeling a bit too erotic for what it was at this point. “I- I don’t know why I am.” Lie.

“Need you to relax for me, sweetheart.” His cold hands rub up and down your thighs. He’s making eye contact with you, causing you to cast your eyes to the ceiling. “Wanna put your legs in the stirrups?”

“Would that help, Doctor Healy?” You hear the sharp inhale of breath, followed by a cough. Trying not to lift your hips off the examination table from his constant skin to skin contact.

“It would, thank you.” He moves to grab your legs, setting them on the edge of the platform. His grip feels rougher than acceptable, fingertips leaving indents on your thighs. He reaches under your gown, looking at you for your nod and slipping your panties off. “May I start?”

“Yes, Doctor. Thank you.” And when you feel his fingers run down your slit, you don’t think it’s protocol. You were already embarrassingly wet from the interaction. As his hands move and brush your clit, you can’t hold back the moan. When you open your eyes, you’re met with Matty peering at you over his glasses, an amused smirk barely peeking through his expression.

“Oh, that’s no good, sweetheart.” He clicks his tongue, faux disapprovingly. His thumb comes back to press on your clit. “You’re so wet. What’s that from, huh?” He took his middle and ring finger, circling around your hole.

“It’s- You! You’re doing it, it’s your fault.” You cry out in pleasure and frustration. He was so condescending, but it felt so good. You know you needed to be more conscious of your volume, still being in a doctor’s office.

“My fault?” He almost gasped in surprise, “Oh, no. I don’t think so. I’m just trying to do my job, make sure everything’s okay down here.” Maneuvering his hand, he gave you two quick but firm taps on your clit with his middle and index finger. “Can you remove your gown for me?”

“Is this protocol, Doctor Healy?” You asked, half genuinely curious to see his answer. Moving to lift your bum, untying the gown from behind your back. Your legs were slightly shaking, and you saw his hand go to cover the smile that graced his mouth. You moved both your shoulders out of the arm holes, discarding the gown to the side. Leaving you in just your simple black bra, that had simple lace trimming.

“‘Course, making sure you’re in shape, and all.” His eyes dragged down your frame, stopping at your breasts. He was taking in your figure now, so you had the time to do the same. Your eyes immediately pulled to the now prominent bulge in his pants, and his fingers that seemed to twitch in anticipation.

“Do I appear to be in shape, then? Good for you?” Unbeknownst to you, what you had just said lit even more of a flame inside of Matty. You were asking him if you were good for him? He could show you what a good little slut he could make you.

He lets his hands rest between the apex of your thighs again, “Gonna spread you open a bit, okay? Think this’ll loosen you up for me.” Matty’s long fingers make their way to your cunt, running them up and down. He slides them down to your hole, collecting the wetness there and spreading it up to your clit.

His other hand came up to unclip your bra from behind your back. He did this expertly with one hand, leaving it to fall so he could grab at your breast. Palming at it for a while before pinching your nipple. You let out a whimper, and he gave you a soft slap on the side of your chest. He grabbed it roughly again, evening it out and applying more pressure to your clit as he did.

Your hand came to cover your mouth, not wanting to let your moans out. A soft, “Doctor,” fell from your lips, causing him to slip one finger inside of you. You couldn’t hold back, then. “Please, yes!”

Matty is running the tip his finger lightly along the inside of you, and it’s not enough. You begin to whine, but he cuts it off quickly. “Gotta relax or I won’t be able to run my tests. You don’t want that, do you?” His smirk is enough to make you want to slap it off him. Though, your whole body goes slack when he pushes his whole finger inside of you.

You’re moaning freely now, seeming to have forgotten that you’re still in a professional establishment. You were relentless, the pleasure he was giving you was too much in the best way. “Doctor- Matty. Please, need it.”

Matt’s pupils dilated, if it was possible for them to get larger. “Say my name again for me.” He groaned out, rocking his hips into the side of the table to relieve some tension. “Matty. Matty! Need you, please.” You obliged easily, drunken off the feeling. Matty pressed a second finger into your pussy.

“Poor thing. Never had anyone in this little hole before, huh? Perfect little cunt is so tight for me, were you saving yourself?” You think your reactions have gotten to his head, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Your head was nodding in response to his words, eyes rolling back to your head.

You could feel pressure building in your stomach, the sound of his voice was getting to you. “Mhm. Doctor, think I’m gonna cum. Please, can I?” His hand sped up after hearing your words, thumb pressing on your clit. You could feel yourself dripping down your thighs, on to the protective cover of the exam table.

Your hips began to lift off the surface again, before Matty’s unoccupied hand came to press down on your abdomen again. “Feels that good, darling? Can’t even stay still for me.” You opened your eyes to look at him, gaze falling to how his hand lifted off of you and went to palm himself. “Come on, be my good little slut and cum for me.”

Ultimately, that was what did you in. You gasped loud enough for the whole office to hear, eyes clamping shut. You saw white behind your eyelids and your hips lifted freely off the table this time. Matty’s fingers coming out of you, rubbing your clit through your orgasm. You heard Matty moan in the back, making out a “fuck me, that’s good. You’re beautiful,” coming from his mouth.

As you came down from it, you opened your eyes to see him licking both of his fingers. “Taste sweet, gonna have to get my mouth on you next time.” He said nonchalantly, still looking down at your pussy. You tried to take your hands and put them in front of it, feeling shy all the sudden.

“Little late for that after I made you cum.” He giggled, going to get a towel from the cabinet above the sink. “Lemme clean you up.” You flustered but agreed in the end. When he came back with the towel, he leaned down to kiss you. You reciprocated easily, jumping when the towel came in contact with your skin.

“Thank you for.. that. For the appointment, Doctor.” You giggled, his head snapping up and eyes narrowing. You raised your hands in faux defence, the smile staying on your face. He smiled with you.

“Came so nicely for me, think I should be the one saying thanks.” He gave you another smirk, getting your panties from the side when they had been discarded. He tapped your thigh, signaling for you to put your legs through. Doing the same with your bra, he then helped you off the examination table.

“Seriously, you were really good. You know, for my first time.”

“Would barely call that a first time, I’ll give you that another time though.” He winked, turning around to look for your other clothes. Your jaw dropped, but you recollected yourself before he turned back to see.

“Right well. Thank you..” You said awkwardly, looking down at your feet. Where were you supposed to go from here? You just got fingered by your gynecologist in his public doctor’s office. You would have to reflect on this when you got home.

“Not an issue, really.” Matty sidestepped you to get to one of the cabinets behind you, slapping your ass as he did. Tease. He was being much too normal about this.

“I mean, what kind of doctor would I be if I left you unsatisfied with your appointment?”

[abiiors]

Red Lips

Day 7 of Matty's Birthday Bash! This is just smut. Pure, unfiltered smut. Series Masterlist.

MINORS DNI!

Sunday: Birthday Smut

‘Eyes on the road, birthday boy,’ you speak in a hushed voice. 

Matty’s hands are gripping the steering wheel tightly, the veins on his arms taut with tension. His knuckles are almost white, nails digging into the leather. You slowly move your fingers, tracing and dancing over the veins, all the way till you reach his hands. He’s like putty in your hands. He doesn’t resist it when you take a hold of his fingers and bring them to your mouth. 

‘Fuck!’ he breathes, head almost tipping back again, ‘baby, please.’

You swirl your tongue around his thumb, looking at him through doe eyes as you continue to run a hand up and down his thigh. ‘Please what?’

Your mouth is hot on his neck, biting and sucking along his pulse point. The remnants of his cologne, spicy and warm, go straight to your head and send shivers down your spine. Despite the AC in the car, you feel your body go hot and flushed. It's all him, all by being in his proximity.

‘Please, I want you,' he whines again, 'suck me off.’ 

You fully turn to look at him, eyes dancing with delight and mischief. ‘So crude, Matthew,’ you put his thumb in your mouth again, sucking it and letting it go with an exaggerated pop, ‘but since it is your birthday…’

You run a finger over the seams on his trousers slowly, savouring the way his breath hitches the closer you get. You palm him through the fabric where he’s already nice and hard and ready for you. So this has been on his mind all throughout dinner. Your promise of later from this morning echoes in your head. Of course, he has been thinking about this all day. 

You make quick work of his belt and zipper, instructing him to keep his eyes on the road throughout. To keep a steady pace. 

‘One more th-thing,’ he grunts as you pull him out of his pants.

‘What?’ you ask, tie up your hair up and out of the way. For a moment, his face goes blank as the only thing he concentrates on is that one simple action. 

‘I want you to touch yourself,’ he groans, coming back to his senses. The commanding tone of his voice surprises you a bit, turns you on further. 

‘Yes, sir,’ you hum, playing along, and get in the position

You manoeuvre yourself out of your panties, it’s easier this way, and throw them onto the dashboard. Right where he can see them as he fights to keep his eyes open. Then your hand moves between your thighs, only teasing for now and lick a broad strip from his base to his tip 

The engine roars as his control of the car briefly slips. For a moment, the rational part of your brain screams at you for doing something so dangerous but then his hips thrust up, effectively pushing himself in your mouth and all thoughts fly out the window. 

Salty precum coats your tongue as you get on your knees in the passenger seat. Your hand creeps between your legs, finding your swollen clit. You moan at the first touch, mouth going further down on him. This was his plan, you realise, to have you moaning and gasping with his cock in your mouth. 

‘That’s it, baby,’ he pants, barely manages to stay seated, ‘doing so good for me.’ 

You’ve barely even started, still just licking and sucking at his tip. But for him, you’re about to put on the performance of a lifetime. The tight little skirt you’re wearing does nothing to cover your ass. Not that anybody could see inside through the dark tinted windows. But just the thought, that someone might drive by and see your fingers teasing your soaked cunt while your head bobs up and down on his cock is filthy enough. 

You let your throat relax, prepare your body to take in all of him. Even with his hand holding up your hair and guiding your head, it’s up to you to set the pace. 

‘Fuck, just like that,’ he gasps once you reach all the way to his base. You hum around him, dipping a finger in yourself just barely, and slowly drag your mouth back up all while letting your teeth graze just the slightest bit. His hips stutter, already desperate for another thrust but you quickly press a hand on his thigh, taking your own sweet time with him. 

The clock on the dashboard flashes with the time, 11:43 pm. A new song comes up on the radio, slow and sultry this time and he pushes his foot on the accelerator. The combination is exhilarating and euphoric. You let your tongue rest flat against him, dragging it up and down each time you move. The melody mixes with the sounds of his moans, sounds of your fingers dipping in and out of your wet cunt. You let your cheeks go hollow, sucking him off hungrily. The curses that come out of his mouth would make a sailor blush. 

‘Such a good girl,’ he pants heavily, ‘taking me so well, baby.’ 

He knows the praise drives you wild and he makes sure to use it as much as he can. Your thighs tremble from holding yourself in the kneeling position. The leather of the seat digs into your knees but all of it is worth it to hear all the vulgar sounds he makes. ‘I’m going to fuck you senseless when we get home.’

The sweet ache between your legs compounds at the promise as you whine around his cock. You want to beg him to stop the car and pound into you right here. 

His hand on your hair tightens, another sign that he’s getting there as you continue licking up and down his dick, sucking at the tip before hollowing out your cheeks. Up and down. Up and down. Your lips go slack from his size but the stretch is delicious as his tip hits the back of your throat in a punishing pace. 

You run small circles on yourself, edging, bringing yourself closer and closer to getting off but you won’t allow yourself that one final push. You would only allow yourself to cum on his hands or in his mouth. Much better, around his cock. 

‘Fuck, I’m so close,’ he moans, ‘so close. Keep going, baby.’

You have no idea when the car slows as you feel yourself drooling on him. It’s a struggle to take your hand away from yourself and the loss of friction almost makes you yell in frustration. Except now you can rake your nails down his thighs as his legs begin to tremble. He’s pulsating inside your mouth now, almost ready to beg for a release. You wrap your hand around his balls, squeezing tightly and let your tongue graze on his sensitive slit. His hips jerk, his tip hits the back of your throat again, almost too far this time and you let out the most obnoxious moan you ever have. 

The sound vibrates straight to his sweet spot and moments later you feel the tell-tale warmth in your mouth followed by the slightly bitter, salty taste. 

Matty chants your name over and over again as he holds your head in place, cock still buried deep in your mouth as his legs spasm and his hands slip from the steering wheel. There’s a moment of panic when you see him go slack but then you realise that he’s pulled over on the side of the road. 

You lose track of time as you focus on licking him clean, swallowing down every single drop. His hand moves away from your hair, caressing your sweaty back despite the air conditioning. It’s to let you know that you can straighten up now. 

Matty’s head is tipped back, eyes half-lidded and mouth swollen from all the times he’s bitten his lip. His hair which was nicely slicked back at the beginning of the night is now a mess, his tie is completely undone and his white shirt sticks to his chest. In short, he is the hottest he has ever looked. When he finally opens his eyes and looks at you, you know he’s thinking the exact same thing. 

Your hair is all over the place, knotted from the way he was fisting it. Your face is messy, mascara running down slightly, mouth wet from a mixture of drool and his cum and smudges of your red lipstick. You smirk at him and wipe it with the back of your mouth. 

‘You’re evil,’ he grins and blushes uncharacteristically. 

You shrug and look at yourself in the rearview mirror. Just as dishevelled as you thought. ‘You like it.’

‘I love it,’ he breathes. The clock flashes again; 11:58 pm. Still his birthday.

You hum in agreement as you take out a pack of tissues from your purse. ‘Now about that promise of fucking me senseless…’

[cows-wearing-my-sweater]

"this is why if you want to kiss you should kiss."

word count: 2354 warnings: brief mentions of alcohol + smoking notes: my first time posting my writing to tumblr so i hope you enjoy this!! i dont write very frequently, but i hope it's a nice read regardless <3

You sit on the old and broken couch, holding a red cup that’s half-filled with something you don’t plan on drinking. It’s dark. Someone brought a strobe light that barely functions; it’s something out of a bad high school party. You watch the party in slow flashes of blue, green, orange. A guy in the other room is pouring beer on himself. A girl you vaguely recognise from your hometown is plastered. She’ll probably be passed out on the shag carpet in a matter of minutes. Someone is playing too-loud house music through busted speakers. At the other end of the couch, someone else is straddling their boyfriend’s lap. None of their kisses meet the guy’s lips, but they don’t care. 

In the midst of the bleak scene, there’s you.

After about thirty minutes of the party, you had become unsure of why you were even there. Something about a new friend dragging you along, something about needing to meet new people. You know it’s certainly true, but a voice in the back of your head nags at you, saying that this feels more pathetic than if you had just stayed home tonight. 

You look around the room for nothing in particular, even though your eyes are analysing every detail they fall on. Maybe you’re praying for just one familiar face. The friend who had dragged you along is long gone, and the longer you think about it, the more you begin to panic. You take a sip of your drink out of desperation; it’s sickly warm and unpleasant going down, but something’s got to calm the nerves. 

You finally get to your feet, deciding to abandon the couple next to you before they go all the way. You walk around the house aimlessly, trying not to bump into the warm bodies all around you. People are dancing like there’s nowhere else they’d rather be. They don’t seem to notice how bad the music is, or the sickening combined smell of weed and vomit that seems to hang in every room. You envy this carelessness, the ability to let go of cynicism for a night. 

Miraculously, you manage to push yourself to the front door, letting out a sigh of relief as it swings open and you step out onto the concrete steps. The February air bites you, but you relish the sting of the cold against your ears and nose, letting it seep into the rest of your body. Few people are out here; one person is lying facedown on the grass, passed out. You spot a group of friends walking home, stumbling a little but laughing loudly. What really catches your eye, though, are the faint wisps of cigarette smoke drifting through the air. It’s coming from around the side of the house. You walk towards it, listening to the somewhat foolish hope in your mind that maybe this person is just as miserable as you.

He’s standing there and he’s beautiful. You can’t make out the details of his features in the darkness, but you feel your breathing hitch. Suddenly you’re an idiot for approaching him, because he’s staring at you expectantly and you have nothing to say. His eyebrows are raised as he withdraws the cigarette from his lips. When you take too long to search for words, he spares you further embarrassment and takes the lead. “Party ended up a bit rubbish, didn’t it?”

This seems to pull you out of your stupor. You silently curse yourself before responding, unable to figure why your brain had short-circuited at the sight of the stranger. “Yeah… you know it’s bad when it looks like a 17 year old’s idea of a rager.”

He laughs at this, gracing you with a kind smile. Without a word, he reaches into his pocket and offers you a cigarette.

A smoke suddenly sounds like the most wonderful thing in the world.

You’re about to ask for a lighter when he says, “Here, I’ll do it.” You hold the cigarette to your lips while he pulls the lighter out of the same pocket. He holds your wrist to steady your hand, which is shaking slightly from the cold. Your eyes dart away, not wanting to make eye contact while his skin is on yours. It feels so childish to be acting like this around a mystery guy you’ve spoken to for about thirty seconds, but you can’t help it.

The two of you stand there together for the next minute, inhaling and exhaling in unison. It’s dead quiet, and it’s freezing, but it’s cathartic. 

You don’t notice him stealing glances at you, trying to catch every detail in the minimal light. He comes to the conclusion that you seem well worth a night of adventure, which is when he asks, “D’you want to get out of here?”

You look up at him, a little taken aback. “I don’t even know your name…?”

“Matty.”

You pause to think, but then quickly decide against thinking. “I’d love to ditch with you, Matty.”

You’re shocked by your own answer, yet pleasantly surprised. You don’t know what’s made you drop your senses, forget about going home, but you’re a little proud. This is what you had been aching over just earlier tonight. So, as Matty snuffs out his cigarette and you follow suit, you force back the creeping doubt that’s coming through. This is fine. You have your wits about you. You figure anywhere is better than here, anyway.

Matty leads the both of you back around to the front of the house, cautiously stepping around the passed out body on the lawn. He pauses by the front steps. “Anyone you need to let know you’re leaving?”

It’s reassuring that he asks this, but you shrug in a noncommittal manner. “I suppose not, no.” You think back to the girl that had convinced you to come here. She’s sweet to have attempted to take you under her wing, but her attempt was fruitless. You doubt your absence will be noticed, but you take no issue with this. “What about you? Who’re you leaving behind?” you question, suddenly wondering why Matty had been so eager to escape with you – aside from the fact that the party was very clearly only going to get bleaker. He’s charismatic, he’s sweet, he’s much more attractive than you like to admit. It’s a wonder that he isn’t back inside, thriving in the center of everything, everyone.

Matty simply mimics your shrug, but a sly smile is spread across his face. “Ah, they can live without me for a night. Doubt my friends are sticking around much longer, they probably hate it here too.”

You accept his answer. Part of you wants to smile to yourself at this feeling of being at least somewhat desired, being chosen. Especially by Matty, a person who is now consistently piquing your interest. The feeling is new, but it warms you. But maybe the warmth you feel is because Matty has now taken your hand in his, leading you off the lawn and into the street.

“God, you’re freezing,” he mumbles, furrowing his brow as you continue walking together.

You laugh a little at this. “Matty, it’s gotta be subzero right now, of course I’m freezing.”

Matty just hums at this. Without a word, he pulls you much closer to his side. You’re met with the smell of cologne, cigarettes, and what you pick out to be the faintest trace of weed. On most people, this would be repulsive, but there’s something strangely comforting about the scent of Matty, and suddenly you realise you don’t want to be pulled away from his side like this.

Apprehension must be showing on your face, though, because Matty breaks the silence by saying, “I don’t bite, you know. If you’re feeling anxious we can go back, love.”

You look up at him, still somewhat pressed to his side. “No, no,” you say hurriedly, “I actually quite like this.”

This brings a true smile to Matty’s face, and you almost think that’s enough to warm your entire body. It’s a wide smile, the kind that makes his eyes crinkle up just a bit, and the grip of his arm around you tightens almost imperceptibly. “I think I quite like you.”

“Oh, come on now,” you say behind your own smile. “You haven’t asked my name yet, you know.”

Matty stops in his tracks at this, causing you to come to a halt as well. “God, I haven’t!” he exclaims. “I’m so sorry, er… what’s your name, darling?”

You give an exaggerated roll of your eyes and sigh, “I suppose I can tell you it’s [Y/N] now that you’ve finally been a gentleman to me.”

“That’s enough,” he groans. “I swear, I only forgot because I’ve been so enamored with you.”

You can’t quite tell if he’s being serious here, but something in his voice suggests genuineness. At least, that’s what you hope it is. “Enamored, huh?” you ask, trying to prod more out of him.

Matty pretends not to hear you, though, and you decide that’s your cue to move on from the moment. As you walk toward whatever Matty’s destination is, you fill the time with questions about each other. You start with small-talk questions (“What music are you into?” “What brings you to this town?” “Do you have a girlfriend?”), but Matty is more interested in big-talk. He’s very much so determined to open you up, to get inside your head and never leave. It doesn’t even take long before he becomes more and more successful in this venture. You find yourself speaking easily, passionately, with Matty. His conversations aren’t self-serving – they don’t exist for him to be pretentious or for him to talk himself up. His conversations exist because he wants to listen.  He hangs on to every word you say like a lifeline, and you can feel this. You feel his deep, gentle eyes trained on you as you pick the right words to answer his question with.

You’re not even particularly aware anymore of the fact that his arm is still wrapped around you, or that your walk with Matty has diverged from the road and instead led you to a park with winding tree-lined paths. When there’s a lull in the conversation, Matty quickly tells you, “I promise I’m not taking us anywhere dodgy.”

For the first time during this whole adventure, you pull away from him, eyebrows raised. “You know that sounds extremely dodgy, don’t you?”

Matty cocks his head to the side, as if pondering your question. “You’ll just have to trust me then, huh?”

You shove Matty lightly. “I’ve given you the gift of my absolute blind trust this whole night, don’t make me regret it just when I’m starting to have fun.”

Another wide grin spreads across his face. “We’re almost where I wanted to take you, anyway.”

He leads you, hand in hand, through one of the wooded paths. It slowly rises upward on an incline, and you start silently praying that the ground levels out before you break into a sweat, even in the frigid air.

Then, before you even realise, the ground actually has leveled out and you’re at the top of a hill. The pathway Matty led you through has faded into the grass here, and all that lays before you is a grassy field and an inky sky, each stretching into nothingness. Stars speckle the sky and a half moon accompanies them, and it’s all too beautiful.

Matty is watching you, waiting for a reaction. “I think it’s quite spectacular here,” he starts. “It’s all quite plain and mundane – just grass and all that. But that’s sort of spectacular, d’you know what I mean?”

You nod in agreement, turning to look at Matty. He looks like he belongs in this scene, a very small and quiet smile adorning his face. A thin beam of moonlight has fallen across him, and this is the moment you take in every visible detail of him. He could’ve been sculpted by the gods, the way each feature compliments one another so perfectly. You wonder how his curls would feel between your fingers or against your cheek. You wonder if his lips fit with yours.

He’s staring back at you now but neither of you seem to care. Time has frozen still and you both know something will happen, but for this moment neither of you wish to speak it into existence. Every detail of this needs to be memorised.

“Would it be too forward to ask to kiss you?” Matty asks softly.

An hour or two ago you would have left right there and gone home. You think about how pathetic you felt in that living room on the beer-soaked couch. You think about Matty listening so carefully to every word you speak, about how gorgeous he is, about how badly you simply want to kiss him. And you decide that’s enough. Against any reasoning that would’ve told you off for kissing a stranger, you shake your head and let Matty’s lips meet yours. The taste of his cigarette still lingers there, and you savor it. Your lips melt into his, seeking the warmth he provides against the cold night. It's magic; you feel as though you're falling into him. His fingers brush against your cheek, which gives you the courage to raise your own hand to meet his hair, twirling a loose curl around your finger. 

Matty is the first to break the kiss, and when he does, you don’t know where to look. He notices this very quickly and uses his index finger to tilt your head back to face him again. “I’m glad we did that.”

You’re glad too. Something has been planted inside you. It tells you to kiss Matty all over again because maybe all that matters right now is the fact that he is looking at you like an angel has just graced his lips. He is looking at you like you’re the very stars hanging above. And you have never felt something more right than letting yourself kiss him.

“Could we do it again?”

[cinomn]

old man healy

warnings: mature content. matty x fem!reader. gunplay, masks, blowjob.

note: reupload from grlplastic. i got sm hate for this fic so i was hesitant to repost but here. be nice omg.

“you’re doing so well for me, my good girl” matty coos, moving the object of metal in your mouth. you continuously suck, looking up at the man with beautiful innocent wholeness. he’s masked, only his wrinkly eyes are shown looking down at you with true interest. he slowly but surely pushes the metal further down your mouth, hitting the back of your mouth. over and over metallic floods your tastebuds. you try your best to hold back a well deserved gag of release when he pushes it back even more earning a retort from your mouth. your lips puckered and sweet, ridden of your lipstick that’s left on your lips onto matty’s mask. matty’s eyes widen in fake surpise as if he didn’t know your throat would reject the gun. now it’s only halfway through your mouth wild saliva dripping from the other half.

“ah-ah none of that, take it” matty tuts, he gently rounds your face taking your hair in his fingers coming back down tracing your jaw slowly pulling at it, opening it. you oblige trying your best to open your hurting jaw as wide as you can. he pushes the gun violently into your face letting it bruise the back of your throat with a gag. tears form as they quickly fall down your horribly scarlet cheeks. matty slowly pulls the gun out of your mouth with a ‘shh’ as he cups your face ridding of your tears and snot. “you’re such an angel, ready for me?” he pulls at the waistband of his blue sweats. his sweats leave nothing to the imagination, you can always recall his horribly hidden erections in them. now, you can already see he’s grown in them once again. you crookedly smile, flashing some of your pearls. matty looks down at you, once again only being able to read his eyes there’s a bit of concern behind them worried he’s pushed you too hard.

“yes sir” you peep nuzzling his erection. matty takes a deep breath, petting you sweetly a physical embodiment of ‘i love you’. you lick a stripe over his sweats his clothed cock begging for mercy, a nice warm place to hide in. you poke your nose at his jerking cock, slowly removing his sweats peaking at it. you look up at matty in shock, you pretend to care he didn’t bother to wear any underwear. he stifles a smile trying to keep his demeanor nonchalant, he cares for you too much. he helps you by lifting his hips off the couch, sliding off his sweats. they fall at his ankles his brown combat boots never daring to leave his feet.

you take him whole, no warning. matty is gawked reaching for the metal object again. he gently places it next to your head watching you desperately bob, trying to impress him. he gently drags the silver down from your forehead to your cheek, pressing it in a little more only messing with your pace. he moves it to the outside where your jaw meets opening and closing angling it. matty let’s out muffled groans, praising you here and there with sweet curses. “you look so pretty like that” “wan’ you like this all the time” “so greedy hm?” to name a few.

you blush with every twitch and buck you earn from matty, they’re so much more rewarding than his loving words. shows you how much he physically loves it, he’s so responsive. you watch his hip tattoo, his hip bones, the flexing of his arms. you struggle taking him all into your mouth, you’ve got about three fourths of him in your mouth. your lips wrapped around the last third. you look up watching him, groan and resist the urge to be an obnoxious head pusher. you try to open your mouth as you feel your jaw beginning to lock. you move your orbs from his happy trail to his beautiful eyes. letting out a whine you try to push yourself farther without return. he drops the weapon he’s been gently teasing you with only to gently push your head down. he knows you hate it but you need him to come.

“gonna fit all this cock in your mouth, huh?” he asks but not really you cant even reply. he starts to twitch bucking into your mouth with what can only be described as sweet. your knees burn, you’re horribly swollen from matty’s teasing all night, dripping out of your american apparel underwear. it’s religious almost, on your knees devoted to your one and only no matter how much it hurts. finally matty hits the spot it seems like he’s been looking for all night. he gasps, hisses, a little too much like an old man. he’s lifting off the couch, both of his hands in your wild hair only pulling and pushing. never giving. matty hits a specific part of your mouth, it’s located almost down your throat the midpoint you can say somewhere between your mouth and throat.

matty let’s put a final groan which sounds like he’s been holding in for too long. with curses he releases into your mouth. he’s done, you release his cock onto his pelvis. it leaves your mouth, wet, sticky and the last of your lipstick is smudged on it. matty grabs your chin slowly rubbing at your bottom lip, “open for me darling” you obey opening sticking out your tongue. clean. he praises your deeds as he slides his sweats back on patting his lap beckoning for you.

you climb onto his lap, as he lifts his mask taking a relieving breath to kiss you. it’s sweet, he releases kissing nipping at your neck and jaw. “you did so well, no one makes me come like you do baby” he whispers all too sweetly. you nod pulling him closer as he sucks at your collarbones, finally placing a harsh bite on your shoulder. territorial, almost dog like.

you watch his free, grey strands of hair, his panting, his chest rise and falling under your palm he’s gorgeous. you look at your shoulder the red of your skin is eminent with his teeth. you kiss him on the mouth, swallowing his pants. “i want you, sir” keeping the name. matty breaks sloppily asking “and what is that?” he pulls at you closer your back molding into his touch his hands all too close to your hips. you blush finding the words to keep your composure. “i wanna try somethin’…” you trail off slowly looking away, instead at the mask on the cushion next to you two. “use your words, be good” he presses on pinching at your hips. you chew on your lips, nervous. “i want to try to ride you, here” you gesture to his right thigh. you can see matty’s expressions all too well now. he smiles his grin a surprise at that, “you’re so dirty” he breaths out pulling you in for a jaw melting kiss.

he lifts you up to his right thigh, placing your dripping heat onto his quad. he grabs the mask previously worn, forcing his silvering curls into it with a slide. matty is now two round saucers again, almost expressionless. you wait for his permission to start, which enthralls him. he pulls at your panties, immediately pushing you down onto him. “hold onto me,” he chuckles through the black as you flail to find his support. “yeah, good” he presses almost kisses onto your collarbone, circling around his bruising bite. your pleasure already soaking his sweats along with your underwear, is almost embarrassing. still you rut to matty’s rhythm, his strong hands guiding your trembling hips ecstatic with a building orgasm. matty presses deeply circling you on his leg with some repeated angling where you whine the most.

he watches you intently calling you names, asking you any degradation disguised as a praise, because you’re a whining mess. your hips falter, your pussy feels like it’s calling matty’s name. “you like the way i do this, princess?” matty takes your hips angling you in a way to hopefully rub your clit in circles. you almost scream you’re, coming undone soon. “ple- please.. like that” you coherently whine out the rest is just babbles. “like what, this?” matty changes the pace and style, he’s got you rocking back and forth. you shake your head silently begging him to return to deep circles. “like circles, circles please” you moan, matty coos almost meanly returning to the circles you speak of.

“so ready to come all over my leg, yeah baby” matty finds your jaw pecking you through the cloth. you nod shaking, your slick fills your underwear. you come undone with a mix of matty’s name and curses. matty pulls you in for one last kiss, a longing one. you feel it’s weird kissing with the mask on, you wonder if matty thinks it’s silly. (he doesn’t). you pull your lips from matty’s pulling the black prison off him. he breaths out again, smiling wide pulling your face in again, messy kisses being his favorite. “so good for me”

[uramilf]

Can you write car sex with Matty

Absolutely I can 🫶

Backseat

Matty Healy x fem!reader smut

Warnings: SMUT. Oral (f&m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, spanking, spit, fingering, handjob

You and Matty were heading home from a small get-together at George’s house after the boys had played live on the radio that day, as a kind of going away party for them going back on tour. You were so proud of your boys, and you hugged them all tightly on your way out. “Bye lads,” Matty called as you finished saying goodbye to Adam and Carly. He placed a hand on the small of your back and guided you to the car, opening your door before jogging round the other side and getting in. He looked gorgeous with his hair falling in its natural curls around his eyes, and he was wearing blue jeans, his Harley Davidson sweatshirt and red converse high-tops. As he reversed out of George’s drive, you looked over at him and sighed contentedly. He was so beautiful without even trying.

Matty noticed you staring and smirked. “What are you looking at love?”

“I’m just looking at my pretty boyfriend,” you replied reaching over to touch his soft hair. He took one hand off the wheel and offered it to you, and you took hold of it. His thumb gently rubbed over the back of your hand as you hummed along to the radio. Matty stole glances at you as he drove, smiling every time. His hand let go of yours and fell to your thigh instead, only moving every so often to switch gear before returning to the same spot. His hand crept a little higher, pushing the hem of your black skirt up.

“Do you know how sexy you look tonight darling?” he smiled.

“Shut up Matty,” you replied.

“I’m serious baby, you look beautiful. Always look so beautiful.”

You scoffed at him, replying with “as if. You’re the beautiful one, Matty. Half the girls in the world are going crazy for you right now. And when you go back on tour it’s just gonna get worse, because they’re gonna get to see your shows and I’m not even gonna be able to touch my boyfriend for months.”

Matty looked at you, an almost hurt expression forming on his face. He couldn’t believe you felt that way, as if he wouldn’t be thinking about you every minute of every day on tour.

Matty pulled over into a small, secluded car park beside a picnic site. It was abandoned entirely as it was nearly 1 in the morning. “What are you doing?” You smirked. Matty’s expression darkened slightly. “Get in the back.”

You clambered into the back seat of the car, knowing exactly what was to come. You were already getting wet just thinking about what he was going to do to you. Matty climbed in beside you and crashed his lips onto yours. Your head was tilted back against the window and he was hovering above you, one hand in your hair, controlling the kiss. His tongue slipped into your mouth, making you moan. He swallowed every sound you made eagerly until he decided he could wait no longer. He kissed down your collarbone and yanked your top over your head, exposing your braless tits. He swirled his tongue around your nipple. “Baby, don’t you ever think that you’re not good enough. I love you more than anything else in the world. I need you, darling.”

With that you decided to take control over your beautiful boy, pushing him back until he was the one resting his head against the window. There was a bulge in his jeans and you ran your hand over it, making him cry out. “Darling, please! Touch me.” You helped him to pull his sweatshirt over his head, pressing a kiss to the area of his “We Are Kings” tattoo that was revealed above his jeans. You unbuttoned his jeans and slid them over his hips, along with his black boxers. His cock sprung out, hitting his stomach, hard and already dripping precum. You leaned down to take his tip into your mouth, sucking it for a few minutes. He was moaning, crying out your name, telling you how much he needed you. He fucked up into your mouth without warning, hitting the back of your throat. You gagged slightly, however this just spurred him on. He began a steady rhythm of fucking your mouth, making you gag every so often. Every sound you made caused him to let out a moan. He wasn’t holding back, as no one could hear him out here in the middle of nowhere. You pulled away from sucking his thick cock, pressing a kiss to his soft lips. You pulled your short black skirt up around your waist, revealing your lack of underwear to Matty, leaking him groan. He started to kiss him again, tongues fighting against each other. Meanwhile, you took his cock into your hand and began stroking up and down. He reached down and swiped a finger up your slit, collecting your wetness before using it to circle your clit. You cried out, covering your mouth quickly and looking around.

“Don’t worry baby, no one can hear us out here. I want you to be as loud as you can for me.”

You continued to touch each other, his fingers eventually pushing into your dripping cunt and fucking you harshly, hitting your g-spot perfectly. You were both crying out each other’s names, nearing our releases. Just as you came hard, seeing stars and feeling white hot pleasure throughout your entire body, Matty came too. Spurts of cum now decorated his tattooed stomach and chest. He was whimpering, his legs shaking as the last few drops of cum dripped down the side of his cock slowly. You tan your finger up his shaft, collecting his thick, warm fluid and sucking on the end of your finger. You used your fingers to scoop up the rest of the cum on his chest, raising your hand to his mouth where he opened obediently and swirled his tongue round your finger, tasting his own salty cum. He couldn’t wait to taste you later, but now he just needed to be inside you.

Matty pulled you by your hips closer to him, already hardening again. He lifted you up to straddle his hips, and you began sliding back and forward over his dick, causing him to throw his head back and groan. Finally you slowed, lifting your hips to line up with his hard cock. You slid down onto him, both of you moaning obscenely as he bottomed out. He took hold of your hands and looked in your eyes. “Are you ok, baby?”

You nodded, panting.

“Good girl, let me feel you darling.” You started to grind on his cock, lifting up before dropping back down, feeling him fill you up again and again. “Fuck, Matty, you’re so big,” you whimpered, leaning forward to kiss him anywhere and everywhere you could reach. You pressed kisses to his neck, his jaw, his cheeks and his gorgeous soft lips; and all the while he was grunting softly as he fucked up into you roughly. Matty let go of your hands, one hand falling to your waist and the other grabbing a handful of your ass, squeezing and occasionally slapping, making you yelp in pleasure.

You continued to ride Matty’s cock, feeling every ridge of him as you moved up and down. You decided to switch things up, climbing off him and turning around before sinking back down onto his cock and bouncing up and down, giving him the prefect view of your ass bouncing on him. He kept slapping your ass every couple of minutes, leaving red hand marks on you, branding you.

You were getting closer and closer to your second orgasm, and so was Matty. He twitched inside you and yelled out your name as he came, his warm cum filling you up and pushing you to your own orgasm. You came with a loud moan, clenching around him. “Fuck Matty, I’m cumming,” you gasped. His hands caressed your waist, guiding you through your high. You lifted yourself off his cock and he pushed you down on the seat before burying himself between your thighs and licking through your wet folds. You cried out, sensitive from your orgasm. He was determined to catch every drop of his own cum from your cunt. He brought himself back up to meet your lips, spitting his cum into your mouth. You swallowed obediently and he kissed you hard.

“You’re perfect, darling.”

—————

A/N: Thanks for reading 😃 going to listen to Matty on radio1 now bye