#matty healy x george daniel

[god-has-entered-my-body]

Twist around the lounge - George Daniel & Matty Healy

A/N: i've been writing since 10am also this is barely spellchecked @beforeyougo-turnthebiglightoff ur a legendary beta thank u for fixing the fuckass formatting xx

wc: 5k

content warnings: super gay, smut, fluff, kissing, power dynamics, fingering, handjobs, blowjobs, begging, teasing, threesome, masturbation, voyeurism, exhibitionism, so gay, pain kink, cumplay, sub! matty, switch(?)! george, shy G oh my god, they get high moments before they fuck so tw for that, allusions to pegging (i reckon that isn't even a warning but better be safe xx)

“What happened to ‘girls don’t roll their own spliffs?’” George comments as you drag your tongue along the paper, the question directed at Matty. You roll your eyes dramatically, holding your hand as George passes you the lighter and you flick it on, rotating for an even burn. Matty shakes his head from across you, adjusting his legs under him he wipes his thumb on the glass of the coffee table.

“There's some things I'm willing to give up.” he settles on a vague answer, eyes darting over your face as you chuckle at the implication. Your legs shift over George’s lap to a more comfortable position as you take the first drag, letting the smoke curl around you in pretty patterns.

Passing the lit spliff to Matty, you pick at your nails as you let the hazy sensation take over your body, though it's not quite as strong as you’d like.

A soft breeze from the open window kisses your skin and you close your eyes, enjoying the feeling. George lets his arms splay out on either side in a relaxed manner, sucking in a deep breath as he watches Matty inhale the smoke, his eyes drooping closed when it hits him, a lazy smile spreading onto his face.  

Matty blows an O in your direction and you catch it like a kiss, shooting him a wink. Too distracted by you looking at him, Matty manages to fumble the spliff, letting it drop into the sliver of skin exposed by the mid-length black skirt he’s wearing.

“Fuck– shit, fucking bullshit-” he curses, brushing hot ash off his leg, hissing in discomfort. 

“Hm, I thought you liked pain?” you joke, eyeing him up and down in a teasing manner, giggling quietly. George perks up slightly at your words, his eyes darting between you and Matty.

“Not like that, you know well enough the type I enjoy.” he breathes, wiping his fingers on his skirt to rid them of the black residue from the ash, going to take another drag. 

You expect a fucked off groan from George, the typical annoyed expression you’re used to replaced by one of undeniable intrigue, his eyebrows raised in curiosity. Matty looks up, a bit confused at the lack of conversation, a heavy silence falling over the three of you. George runs an unsteady hand through his hair as Matty blows smoke, his eyes getting visibly redder as the seconds tick by. 

The silence is broken by George’s deep voice, timid and unsure.

“What do you mean he likes… uhm- pain?” The end of his sentence is punctuated by an uncharacteristic voice crack, your eyes narrowing at the odd question. It takes a few seconds for the words to finally register as Matty hands George the spliff, their hands lingering in a way that could be labeled as more than platonic if you looked close enough.

The more you look, the faster the gears in your head turn. You can see a thousand thoughts running through Matty’s mind as George stares at both of you, a faint blush dusting his cheeks at the obscenity of the question. It finally clicks for Matty when he sees him looking at the bit of skin visible over the collar of his shirt, littered with multicolored hickeys and bite marks.

“Oh you know, just like….” you trail off, moving your legs from their position on George’s lap, sitting up in a more normal position.

“I like it when she pulls my hair.” Matty’s bluntness almost makes you cringe, but the feeling of embarrassment is curbed by the look on George’s face, his lips parted in surprise at the answer. The curly haired boy smirks at you mischievously, eyes flicking between you and George, waiting for one of you to answer.

“Oh, uhm– thats-” George stutters, his voice incredibly meek right before Matty cuts him off.

“Really fucking hot? Yeah, mate, you wouldn't believe.” your eyes widen at the conversation being held right now, and you try to gather your words to steer it away from whatever this was, hoping and praying Matty hadn't spooked George into never wanting to speak to either of you ever again.

“Yeah, it is.” George breathes, no stutter in sight as Matty watches his every move, acting accordingly. In what feels like a fraction of a second, you suddenly feel the weight of a body in your lap, and it takes a moment to realize its Matty, straddling you like George isn’t sitting two fucking feet away from you.

His lips catch yours in a searing hot kiss, all tongue and teeth as our mouths work against each other, quiet wet sound filling the space as you feel George’s eyes on you, shamelessly staring. 

“See? I was right.” Matty murmurs against your lips, vaguely gesturing in the direction of an incredibly flustered George, his confidence unfaltering. You pull away for a few moments, cocking your head in confusion as you see him set the spliff down in the corner of your eye, bright pink ashtray glimmering in the dim light.

“Our little Georgie here,” he cuts himself off with another peck to your bruised lips before continuing. “likes to watch, don't you, love?” The pet name makes George visibly twitch, Matty’s sultry words evoking something primal in him, something he’d never felt before. You feel his hand trail down your chest, grazing over your nipples as he caresses your skin, his touch tantalizing. Turning your head slightly, you see a sight that will be ingrained into your frontal lobe until the day you die. Georges nods, confirming Matty’s suspicions and you gasp as curls brush under your jaw, hot lips pressed to your collarbones. 

The energy in the room shifts dramatically as George makes a move towards the two of you. He opens his mouth to speak once, twice, until he finally manages to force a string of words out.

“W-what else–” Matty stops, turning towards him with a look of encouragement, nodding at the clearly nervous blonde.

“What else does she– does she do..?” The question is directed at Matty, his eyes avoiding you at all costs, too shy to even look at you properly.

“Fuck, she makes me hurt so good, m’dizzy even thinking ‘bout it.”

George's breath hitches and you can tell he's turned on by the way Matty moans the words, grinning maniacally at the both of you, this whole situation like a dream come true for him.

“See this?” Matty hooks his fingers into the collar of his shirt, pulling it down to reveal a myriad of bruises and marks, flaunting them to George. You can see a small part of him wish George would touch him, run the rough pads of his fingers over his pale skin, maybe even press down onto the fresh splotches of color.

“Got a bit too annoying so she put me in my place, marked me up all pretty.” Endless nights spent holding him down, murmuring into his ear, your mouth attached to his throat as he whines spin in your head, the memories going straight between your legs as you absentmindedly spread them, and action not going unnoticed by Matty.

“Fucking hell.” George mutters, entranced by the scene in front of him, trying to convince himself he was dreaming. You don't even notice how close he really is until Matty grabs the edge of his half unbuttoned shirt, smashing his lips against his. A startled gasp escapes George before he melts into the kiss and Matty moans, licking into his mouth at a dizzying pace. 

Your heart beats against your ribcage when George threads his dominant hand into his curls, tugging experimentally. The action is tentative, unsure, but Matty’s wanton groan spurs him on, a sudden rush of confidence making him pull harder, earning more sounds from him. A high pitched moan spills from Matty’s lips as George slips his tongue past them, the sight pornographic as you watch them, eyes darting between the two men. 

Letting out a groan of protest when Matty pulls away, you catch the beginnings of a smirk right before George presses his lips to yours, his stubble scratching along your chin roughly. It feels different yet so, so fucking good as he groans into your mouth.

“Fuck, that's so hot.” Matty breathes, running his fingers through his hair, still perched in your lap as George continues kissing you frantically, wanting to feel every inch of your lips. 

You barely notice Matty sinking to his knees while George keeps you busy, your eyes screwed shut tightly as a carnal desire takes over your body, lighting every fiber of it aflame. Both of them can visibly see how worked up you are the moment Matty slides your shorts down your thighs, your hips lifting to help him out. There's a visible wet patch on the front of your panties, one that makes George gasp when he sees it, breaking the kiss. 

“Oh, don't stop on my account.” Matty pouts, not liking this you-and-George-not-kissing turn of events. George catches your lips again, the kiss searing hot as his hand finds your jaw, his chest pressed up to the side of your body.

“Gorgeous, isn't she?” you giggle at Matty’s words, letting one of your hands thread through his hair as he mouths along your thigh, licking over your clothed cunt. His fingers play with the hem of the cotton, making you shiver at the coldness of his fingers against your skin. 

“You should see him in a bit of silk, takes your fucking breath away.” you whisper to George, quietly wondering if he did have a pretty little number on under that skirt of his.

“Fuck, seriously?” George says, almost to himself, looking down and locking eyes with Matty. Matty rests his cheek on your thigh, his fingers slowly pushing the fabric of your panties to the side.

“Shame I didn't have time to prepare, would've even gotten those pretty little garters out. Love those, don't you?” You nod, smiling at George as the mental image flickers in front of his eyes, fantasies running wild in his mind. 

You feel rough fingers against the skin of your stomach, and you realize what the blonde is hinting at.

“Can I..” he trails off before he can even finish his sentence and you nod, urging him to rid you of the unnecessary material. A choked gasp spills from his lips when he realizes the lack of bra under your top, his hands shamelessly groping your tits as you moan, fingers toying with your nipples meanly. 

His mouth finds the space between your tits, leaving aggressive marks in his wake as Matty watches the scene in front of him unfold, licking his bottom lip. Matty’s fingers dip under your underwear, applying pressure to your clit making your hips buck upward, searching for more pleasure as Matty grins up from below you.

“Fuck– you’re so tight.” he murmurs as his digits sink into you, stroking against your walls at a dizzying pace, your head spinning at the blinding ecstasy. 

A desperate moan escapes you as George feels you up, your chest looking eerily similar to Matty’s as your nails dig into the cushions of the sofa, your feeble attempt at grounding yourself. Matty presses soft kisses to the inside of your thigh as you writhe under his touch, sucking lightly and leaving similar marks to George, if not a bit less harsh. 

“Matty, please– m’so close.” you whine, cut off by George’s lips against yours, all the oxygen in your lungs being knocked out of them in a split second, leaving you feeling weightless. Your vision is blurry as your orgasm approaches, the coil in your belly winding impossibly tight as Matty’s hand reaches up to graze your stomach reassuringly. A rough hand grabs yours and you open your eyes fully to realize it's George’s, smiling softly as Matty brings you to that delicious edge.

You cum with a whimper of his name, gripping the blonde’s hand so tightly you might've cut off the blood supply to his fingertips, pleasure washing over you in tidal waves, your hips unabashedly grinding down onto Matty’s fingers.  

It takes a few minutes for you to properly come to, your chest heaving with effort as Matty kisses your thighs sweetly, gazing up into your eyes. A beat of silence passes between the three of you as you and Matty exchange silent conversation, George blinking rapidly at what he had just witnessed. He still felt like he was dreaming, his whole body floating above the mortal plane as you move to get up, Matty shuffling to the side to make his way between George’s legs, giving you space to do the same.

“You don't have to– I can just-” he stutters, so unsure of himself it's adorable, his face flushed a deep shade of red. You smile to yourself as Matty speaks, his confident tone having a visible effect on the boy above you.

“Do you want us to? Because I want you both so fucking bad.” Matty’s hands grope George's thighs, playing with the buckle of his belt cheekily as he peers up at him, his eyes dancing with desire. 

“Let him take these off you, hm?” You trace your fingers over his stomach where his shirt had ridden up slightly, making him twitch. The movement reminds you of Matty, yet still starkly different.

“Yeah, okay– fuck.” he groans as delicate hands unbuckle his belt, the clinking of metal making your heart thrum in your chest in anticipation. Matty’s fingers start unbuttoning his jeans, stealing a glance at your face, signaling you to take over. George’s cock is hard, precum leaking from his tip as he strains against his grey boxers, a sight you commit to memory

Matty’s now free hands grip the back of your head, pulling you into a messy kiss, so clearly for show it makes your head spin at the mere implication that George was getting turned on from watching you. Your hand finds the front of George’s boxers, palming his cock through them as soft groans fill the room, his legs shaking at the sudden stimulation.

“So ready for us, hm? Should've done this earlier if it got me that.” Matty gestures to the blonde's face, scrunched up in ecstasy as you take him out of the confines of his underwear, fisting the base of his cock. Settling into a more comfortable position on your knees, you take the tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it as George gasps, screwing his eyes shut in pleasure. 

Matty takes the few spare seconds to grab at the hem of his shirt, sliding it off of him to reveal his bare chest, glistening with sweat and adorned in tattoos. The sight of him half naked never ceases to make you stutter, the low rise of his skirt only adding to the inherent erotic energy surrounding him.

It takes effort to take all of him into your mouth, Matty watching intently as you choke, sputtering on his cock with spit dribbling down your chin obscenely.

“Look how well she’s taking you, feels so fucking good I bet.” Matty reaches down to touch himself to the scene in front of him, letting his face fall onto one of George's thighs. Soft whimpers and moans spill from his lips, barely audible over George’s masculine groans, the juxtaposition making you feel lightheaded as one of his hands finds its way to the top of your head, resting there. 

“Please– fuck, feels so good. Keep doing tha- ohhh shit, fuck.” The head of his cock hits the back of your throat, making you gag. Matty presses an encouraging hand to your lower back. One glance up makes your breath hitch. George isn’t looking at you, but at Matty, his hand disappearing under the waistband of his velvety skirt, squeezing himself through his underwear. The air is charged with lust, the eye contact between the two men so intense you can feel it in your bones. 

Matty’s eyes are glazed over with desperation, the sight of you getting George off fulfilling every fantasy he’s ever had. He’s sure nothing could ever top this, silently begging this wouldn't be the last time it would happen. Matty brushes strands of hair out of your face, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek as you deepthroat George, tears threatening to spill at the effort.

You feel his cock twitch in your mouth, a low groan following as his hand goes slack in your hair, his hips bucking involuntarily. Sincere apologies spill from his lips and you pull off him, wiping your mouth and assuring him everything was alright, offering him a sickeningly sweet smile like you didn't just have his cock down your throat. 

“Make him cum, darling, I wanna see him cum– shit.” Matty whines, eyes begging you. You nod, a smirk spreading onto your face as you take George back into your mouth, his immediate groans of pleasure letting you know just how close he really is. Matty watches as you manage to not gag, making George throw his head back in ecstasy, moaning your name like a prayer. 

The thing that finally does him in? Matty’s hand grazing over the skin of his arm, making him spill into your mouth with a cry, the musky taste of his cum filling your senses. George shakes, actually shakes at the force of his orgasm, hair sticking to his forehead. An idea pops into your head moments before you swallow, and you turn your head to Matty, tapping his bottom lip with your index finger.

Matty’s eyes widen as he realizes what you want to do, his tongue lolling out of his mouth as he opens it. You let cum drop into his mouth, some of it missing and hitting his lips, a pornographic moan ripping itself from Matty’s throat at the salty, distinct taste of George.

“Love tasting you on my tongue, shit.” Matty mutters at George, growing impossibly harder at the eroticism of it all, his cock visibly tenting his skirt. 

You lick a stripe up the side of his neck, bringing your wet lips to his ear and whispering into it.

“Get up on the sofa for me baby, let's get you off.” you speak, your words sultry and coated with thick honey, making both Matty and George shiver. 

The curly haired boy nods frantically at your request, scrambling up to find his seat next to George, still panting from his recent orgasm, and the proximity to Matty definitely not helping his current state. You let out a sigh Matty knows all too well, searching your expression to decode what you really meant. It clicks for him when your eyes flicker over to George’s lap, grinning wildly as he clocks it, draping one of his legs over George in a heartbeat. 

Using his body weight to hoist himself to a sitting position, he relishes in the surprised sounds George makes, stuttering over his words while trying to process the events unfolding. Something shifts when Matty makes direct eye contact with him, that sight probably the hottest thing you’ve ever seen in your life.

“God, you’re so pretty.” George mutters, his lips inches away from Matty’s as they both breathe heavily.

“He is, isn't he?” you grin, your thoughts running wild as your eyes dart around the space, your breath hitching when they land on the discarded leather belt right in front of you, innocent and unassuming.   

Matty is the one who initiates the kiss, immediately taking George’s bottom lip between his teeth, biting down meanly as the blonde gasps into his mouth, pupils completely blown out. Both of them are completely breathless, too caught up in each other to notice you get up and circle around to stand behind Matty, leather in hand.

Matty’s eyes fly open when he feels you grab his arms suddenly, the belt clamped between your teeth as you pull them back, a small yelp spilling from his lips. George notices your movements, knitting his eyebrows in confusion before he realizes that you’re restraining him, the thought making his heart race. The metal clinking is deafeningly loud as his movement is restricted, a high-pitched whine leaving Matty.

“He loves this, look at how hard he is.” you say, your lips pressed to George’s ear as Matty’s hips twitch, bucking up against nothing, desperate for any kind of friction. He’s been hard for the better part of an hour now, watching and talking but never getting off. You see George hesitate, his hand ghosting over the bulge under his skirt while Matty yearns for his touch, eyes pleading with both of you simultaneously.  

“Touch him baby, promise he doesn't bite.” you coo, letting your fingers linger on the leather, tracing the small designs of the belt.

“Unless you want me to.” he bites his lip at George, earning a chuckle from both you and him. The lip bite, despite being ironic, still made something in you stir. 

“I don’t know how– i’ve never-” George whispers, deathly afraid of messing up, afraid of ruining this perfect moment.

“It's alright love, just–” Matty speaks, cocking his head in a sweet manner as George looks at him, red dusting his otherwise pale cheeks.

“Do what you do to yourself when you’re alone, yeah?” Matty reassures him, writhing against the restraints as George tentatively palms his cock over the velvety material.

The thought of George getting himself off is something you file away for later, the mental imagine making the heat between your legs grow exponentially, and you squeeze your thighs together to relieve some of that pressure.  

“Ah, fuck.” Matty whimpers, and you see the blonde flipping the fabric of his skirt up against his stomach, the clothing bunching up at his waist.

“Look how much he wants you, basically begging for you to get him off.” you speak slowly, drinking in the scene in front of you with a primal hunger, the bulge in Matty’s boxers adorned with a wet patch on the front of them. 

“So responsive, isn’t he?” 

Matty whimpers as George finally reaches into his boxers, taking him out and wrapping a hand around his leaking cock, beads of precum bubbling at the tip. George mirrors the movements he uses on himself, eyes searching the other boy’s expression for any sign of discomfort. Instead, he’s met with a blissed out Matty, face contorting in pleasure as George’s hand works him, using his precum as lube.

“Hear that?” you speak, taking in Matty writhing against George, wet lips parted as his eyes droop shut in ecstasy, wanton whines filling the room. You can see abandoned spliff in the ashtray across from you, last remnants of smoke curling in the air as the weed goes to waste, reminding you of how this situation even came to be.

“Those are the same noises he makes when I fuck him.” Your inflection makes the sentence all the more erotic as George stares at both of you wide-eyed, scenes playing out in his mind like a film.

“Y-you-” He stutters and you nod, Matty’s face flushing in a way you don't quite recognise. He’s embarrassed. A smirk tugs at the corners of your mouth as you realize this, finally finding his Achilles heel. That spot was George.

“Yeah, and he takes it, takes whatever I give him. He’ll take whatever you give him, too.” A choked whine leaves Matty’s lips as you speak about him like he isnt even there. He leans forward, resting his cheek in the crook of George’s neck as he makes eye contact with you, fucking panting like a dog in heat. 

“Shit, your hand feels so fucking good.” Matty whimpers, his cock twitching in George's grip as he speeds up his movements, basking in the curly haired boy's praise. Sweat makes Matty’s curls stick to his forehead, his bare chest glistening in the dim light of the living room. You watch as George gets him off, so blatantly turned on by the boy in his lap that it's genuinely laughable. 

“Let me see you, wanna see your pretty face.” George mutters against Matty’s hair, catching you both by surprise. Matty pulls back, a clear look of arousal at the boy’s words, his lips parted in a way that shows you he’s so, so close to the edge it's physically painful for him. 

“Make me cum, please– i’m so fucking close, feels so good, G, fuckk.” Matty braces himself as you trail your fingers up and down his spine, shivers blooming through his whole body as his orgasm rushes at him full throttle. George’s hand squeezes his cock roughly, the slight note of pain sending white-hot pleasure straight to Matty’s lower half, making him moan desperately as George murmurs against his jaw.

The audible sounds of frustration as Matty pulls at the belt restraining his arms is incredibly hot, your tongue darting out to lick a stripe along his throat as he gasps, the stimulation feeling like pure heaven

“That's it, baby, let go for us, doing so well.” George groans, his commanding tone of voice sending Matty hurling over the edge, his orgasm crashing over him so violently tears start to stream down his face as he cums all over George’s stomach and his own, panting their skin as you watch, a soft noise slipping past your lips.

George works Matty through his high, watching every reaction, expression, and movement he offers him, his hand steadily slowing down as Matty’s full body twitches subside, high.pitched pants and whines spilling from his lips as he closes his eyes, basking in the afterglow.

“Fuck- that was.”    

“The hottest thing you’ve ever seen?” You smirk, finishing his sentence for him with a cheeky wink. It takes a few beats for George to fully come down from his power trip, eyes darting between you and Matty as he registers the compromising position he is currently in. You notice his slight panic, resting a reassuring hand on his shoulder, acting as his tether to reality. 

“Is this going to happen again?” The question is heavy on the three of you for a moment, but eye contact with Matty tells you he already has an answer.

“Do you want it to?” Though he is still restrained, Matty is as cocky as ever, raising his eyebrows at George in a teasing manner. You watch as George gathers his words, your heart thrumming against your ribcage in anticipation. 

“That depends,” George says, sounding confident. 

“Depends on what?” Matty cocks his head and you mirror the movement, equally as confused at his statement. The curly haired boy is still out of breath, his panting ruining the calm and collected demeanor he tries so desperately to portray.   

“Depends if you take it as well as she says you do.” he gestures to you, your smirk growing as Matty flushes a deep shade of crimson, squirming under George’s touch as he rests his hands on his velvet covered hips. You chuckle quietly before answering, making deliberate eye contact with George and George only.

“Oh trust me, my sweet G, he does.”  

[allylikethecat]

if you’re still doing the kiss prompts, i woild love 9/19 for gatty ♥️

also wanted to say ive read p mi h everything in the gatty tag and think you have probably the most unique writer’s voice ive seen yet your characters feel 100% true ♥️ truly amazing

First, thank you so much for your kind words about my writing! There are so many incredibly talented writers in this fandom and I am so honored to be included in the tag with them! I have a lot of fun writing about the misadventures of Matty and George and I'm so happy that you're enjoying reading about them! (Eventually, one day, I'll update one of my fics on AO3 - for now I've been having too much fun working on these prompts!)

For the kiss prompts - I ended up combining these two, 9. Kiss…in public and 19. Kiss…for luck. I hope that was okay! If not let me know and I'll write you two new ones 😊 Regardless of if you wanted them combined or two separate ones, I hope that you enjoyed this fill!

❤️Ally

9. Kiss…in public & 19. Kiss…for luck 

Matty felt like he was going to throw up. The spliff he had smoked, what he hoped was stealthily in the bathroom, standing carefully balanced on the toilet seat to exhale directly into the vent fan, George laughing with his hands on his hips to keep him steady, had done absolutely nothing to calm his nerves. If anything, it had only made him more anxious, made him paranoid that everyone could tell he was stoned. Even after rehearsing all week, after playing these songs for months, after writing them himself, he still couldn’t manage to pronounce “thinking this through” properly, the words slurring together in such a way that it had become a meme on TikTok. He was about to fuck up the words to his own song on live broadcast television and then get ridiculed on the internet for having a speech impediment despite all the years of speech pathology he had attended as a child to lose his lisp. 

He knew, rationally, they had been on bigger stages before. He knew rationally, the slur of the line was attributed to his Manchester accent and not his childhood speech impediment. He knew rationally, that even if he didn’t remember it, they had played SNL before. Maybe that’s why he was so nervous, maybe that’s why his stomach was churning ominously, leaving him wondering if he was going to puke or shit himself with nerves, or if he was really lucky, maybe a combination of the two.

He had seen the videos of their SNL performance in 2016, he had seen the articles condemning his “weird” stage presence. He had been high as shit on heroin, drunk as hell on red wine and it was truly a miracle that he had managed the performance at all. He had hazy memories of waking up in the back of the car taking them to the hotel, having fallen asleep with his heavy head on George’s shoulder as soon as they were in the moving vehicle, to hear murmurs of how they probably weren’t ever going to be invited back. The track marks on his arm had itched and shame burned in his chest. At the time, he hadn’t even been sure what they weren’t being invited back to. 

But here they were, seven years later, invited back. Their fifth album was doing better than they could have ever hoped, their sold out North American tour had been met with critical acclaim. They were nominated for another Brit award and Jack had even accidentally on purpose let slip that their name was being tossed around as actual Grammy contenders. And they had been invited back. To play SNL, even though seven years ago Matty had blacked out and then apparently thrown up just off to the side of the stage, barely out of view of the audience. It was time for his redemption arc, time for him to show NBC that he was Matty Fucking Healy, and Matty Fucking Healy was no longer a liability. 

Even though he kind of felt like a liability, standing with his guitar in the green room, trying to remember why he thought being a rockstar was a good idea to begin with. 

The rest of the guys, and their backing band, where sprawled out on the leather couches, fiddling with their instruments, laughing with excitement as Matty paced, strumming a few cords as he did so, trying desperately to calm himself, to remind himself that he was Matty Fucking Healy. Worst case scenario had already happened last time they played SNL, so really he should be relaxed, it could only go up from here. His stomach lurched and he found himself scrambling over to the bar sink in the corner, leaning heavily on the counter, banging his guitar on the cabinet as he moved. He took a deep breath, and swallowed hard. False alarm. He was fine. Everything was fine.

“You guys are up,” said a PA poking his head into the green room, Matty looked up, seeing the look of concern and judgment that PA was giving him. He looked too young to have been around for their first performance on the show, but Matty was willing to bet he had heard about it when it was announced they had been booked. Keep an eye on the little curly one, Matty was sure some senior up stage hand had said. Last time he did heroin in the bathroom then threw up everywhere. 

Matty swallowed hard. It was show time. It was just another show he told himself. Just another show. If he was losing it in front of a crowd of 300 he had no idea how he was going to handle Finsbury that summer- they were expecting 50,000. He knew it wasn’t the size of the live audience. It was the live broadcast and what it represented.

“Hey,” George said, catching his arm just as they were about to step onto the stage, and step into the shine of the lights. He could hear Jenna introducing them, though it sounded far away, like his head underwater, which was surreal enough in itself Matty thought hysterically. “Good luck.” 

He wrapped one of his large hands around Matty’s lower back, skimming the top curve of his arse. He pressed his mouth to Matty’s, in a chaste kiss that Matty found himself melting into, trying to deepen, chasing George’s lips, even as he pulled back. 

“You’re going to be brilliant.” 

The crowd started screaming and Matty looked over his shoulder, realizing with detachment that they hadn’t been as hidden, hadn’t been as off to the side as they had thought, the studio audience had a direct view, a front row seat to George kissing him. 

His next thought was the Taylor Swift song, has anyone ever kissed you in a crowded room. Followed quickly by this meant that the audience did in fact probably see him throw up last time. A hysterical bubble of laughter pulled itself from his chest and he rested his forehead against George’s chest. 

George gave the crowd a sheepish wave before pressing another kiss to the crown of Matty’s head, before stepping back and making his way to his drum kit. Matty spun around and waved at the audience, moving into the spotlight to take his place at center stage, grinning to himself as they played the opening notes of Looking for Somebody (To Love). He already had found somebody to love.

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

I had an amazing idea for a fanfic and I was wandering if anyone wanted to help me get my idea into a fic cuz I don’t know if I’d write it well ??

[whimsicalpolitical]

Family bonfire // Matty Healy x Reader

a/n: send me more requests, I love nothing more :) also I know it’s getting warmer and summer feeling but this gave me an autumn vibe.

summary: Matty and you spend some days with your family in your childhood house. Not only the fire gets hot in the evening ;)

content warning: 18+ smut, fingering,idiots totally in love, unprotected sex

based on this request

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As the sun dips below the horizon, casting a golden hue over the kitchen, you stand alongside your mum and sister, watching through the window as Matty and your dad work tirelessly to prepare the bonfire.

Your two brothers are running around the pile of logs, doing anything else besides helping both.

Every time Matty comes back with wood, he searches for your gaze in the window and every time he can catch a glance, he does.

You’re doing the dishes with your mum, while your sister is just sipping her green tea. You try to suppress a little giggle when Matty tries to wipe away the sweat with the sleeves of his brown cute lumberjack jacket.

Your mum glances at you, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "He's a good one, isn't he?" she remarks, her voice soft with affection.

You nod, your heart swelling with pride as you watch Matty and your dad laughing over something. “He really is,” you agree, a smile spreading across your face.

Your sister chimes in, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “And look at them bonding over chopping wood,” she teases, nudging you playfully.

“Dad wasn’t this open when I brought my boyfriend home,” she states. Your sister is only two years younger than you but she’s with her boyfriend for 5 years now. When she brought him home, your dad was skeptical if he would be the one.

With Matty it was different. It’s only the second time you’re together at your home and your dad seems to really like him. He hasn’t said any judgmental comments or asked him thousands of questions, which is always a good sign.

“That’s probably because he realized that the both of you have made great decisions.” You laughed because it’s definitely not the truth. Your dad just found it easier with Matty.

Together, you watch as Matty and your dad continue their work until the logs are stacked up perfectly. “Finally, come and help me get the chairs out,” your mum says to your sister. She takes the last sip of her tea and hands the cup to you.

Both leave the room and only seconds later Matty comes in, pulling the gloves off his hands, laying them on the table. “Hey lumberjack,” you giggle.

“Lumberjack? More like fucking legend,” he jokes, lifting his arms to show his biceps, walking towards you. “Had fun out there, especially with you watching me like a stalker.”

His hands find your waist, the coldness of his finders radiating to your body. You smack his chest at his comment, rolling your eyes in mock exasperation. "Please, you were practically posing out there," you retort, a teasing glint in your eye.

Matty tries to act offended, placing a hand over his heart. "I'll have you know, I take my wood-chopping very seriously," he declares, his tone overly dramatic.

You just laugh and get yourself a small kiss from his lips, humming as you pull away again.

As Matty's hands rest gently on your waist, you feel a shiver of anticipation run down your spine. His touch both comforting and electrifying, his fingers tracing gentle patterns along your sides, sending tingles of pleasure dancing across your skin. “Should we join them?” He asks, nodding towards the laughing people outside.

“In one minute,” you argue, wrapping your hands around his back, hugging him.

Matty chuckles, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your lower back. "clingy much?" he teases, his voice playful.

You leaned back slightly, meeting his gaze with a playful grin. "Can you blame me?" You reply, your tone light but sincere.

His lips curl into a fond smile, his eyes softening as he looks at you. "Not at all," he admits, leaning in to press a sweet kiss to your forehead.

You keep your head resting on his chest, meanwhile Matty watches as your dad tries to light the fire, the wind being a huge obstacle. “As much as I’m enjoying this, think we have to join your family.”

You groan as he removes his body from yours, kissing your cheek one more time to try to make this separation easier. He intertwines your fingers, walking outside the kitchen to join the others in the backyard.

“Matty,” your dad tells, “mind helping me light the fire?” He’s kneeling with a lighter and some tinder, to light the fire.

“Of course not,” you watch as Matty walks over to your dad, kneeling as well, holding his hands in front of the tinder, to keep the wind away.

Your other sister walks towards you with her boyfriends arms around her. In her hands, it’s Matty’s acoustic guitar. You look at her, lifting your eyebrows questioningly.

“Mum wants Matty to sing for us later,” she laughs, knowing it’s a bit awkward, “here.” She hands you the guitar, the material almost slipping through your hand. You lay it down gently against the wall, walking towards the chairs around the fire.

-

It’s 8pm when you’re all sitting around the fire, hands reaching out to the heat, trying to ignore the cold wind through your hair.

You pulled your chair right next to Matty’s so you can nuzzle into his comfortable jacket. “I can give you the jacket y’know?” He chuckles, his arm around your shoulder rubbing soothing circles into your arm.

You feel a warmth spreading through you, both from the jacket and the comforting presence of Matty beside you. "Nah, I like being close to you," you say, leaning into his touch.

Matty's smile widens, and he squeezes your shoulder gently. "Fair enough.”

Everyone’s busy talking, your mother discussing something with your sister, in their own world.

The fire lights up Matty’s face, his brown eyes glowing in the darkness.

You rest your head on Matty’s shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne mingled with the smoky aroma of the fire. "You know," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, "my mum really likes you."

Matty pulls back slightly, a surprised smile spreading across his face. "She does?" he asks, his eyes bright with curiosity.

You nod, a fondness shining in your eyes. "Yeah, she said you're the right one," you admit, feeling a surge of warmth at the memory of her mum's words.

Matty's smile widens, a hint of emotion tugging at the corners of his lips. "Well, I'm glad to hear that," he replies, his voice soft with sincerity. "Because I think her daughter’s the one for me”

Your heart swells at his words, his head leaning down to give you a soft peck which follows by gagging sounds of your 13 year old brother. You just flip him off, making Matty giggle.

Some time passed, the crackling of the bonfire filling the night air, casting a warm glow over the gathered family. Blankets are draped over shoulders, laughter echoe in the darkness, and the scent of roasting marshmallows mingle with the crisp autumn breeze. It is a scene straight out of a storybook, where time seems to stand still and worries melted away in the flickering light.

After your mums request, Matty sits on a weathered log, his acoustic guitar resting comfortably in his hands. His fingers dance effortlessly over the strings, producing melodies that seemed to weave themselves into the fabric of the night. His voice, rich and soulful, filling the air as he sings ‘be my mistake’, each note carrying the weight of emotion.

You feel a lump form in your throat as you listen to the haunting beauty of Matty's voice. The vulnerability in his tone sending shivers down your spine, and you can’t help but be moved by the raw honesty of his performance.

Some times when you’re asleep Matty sits down next to you, to sing to you. Most of the times, it’s be my mistake and it’s definitely one of your favorites.

“He's incredible," your sister murmured in your ear.

“Truly talented," you agree, nodding in appreciation.

And when the song comes to an end, the silence that followed is filled with whispers of awe and admiration.

You lean in close to Matty, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. "You were amazing," you whisper, your voice filled with love and pride.

Matty smiles, his eyes shining with gratitude. "Thanks, love," he replies, his voice barely audible over the crackle of the fire. "I'm just glad I could share it with all of you."

It’s already pretty late, your brother’s the first ones having to go to bed and you can’t wait to finally leave as well.

As the warmth of the bonfire envelope you, Matty can’t help but notice how close you are every second. He leans in, a playful smirk playing on his lips. "You're awfully cuddly today," he remarks, his voice low and teasing.

His hand finds your thigh, squeezing it slightly, his touch driving you insane. You shudder and give him a look. “Matty,“ you mutter, trying to free your thigh from his grip but he’s very persistent.

You let your eyes trace over his profile; the strong, curved line of his nose, dark stubble that’s flecked with a little grey. He thinks it makes him look distinguished. He catches you watching him out of the corner of his eye and squeezes your thigh again, kneading the flesh there.

You shift in the seat, open your legs wider, encouraging him to move higher. You think about pressing your lips against the juncture of his throat, inching your own hand over the front of his jeans, wondering if he’s already half hard. “In front of your family?” He tuts, “you know better.”

You look around, making sure no one is aware of the scene, when you lean in, whispering in his ear. “Take me inside,” you lean back, watching his eyes go dark before whispering a quiet ‘please.’

You bite your lip, almost letting out a whine when his hands leaves your thigh, to run it through is curls. “Fucks sake,” he mutters, “you were the one telling me I need to behave, and what now?”

It’s true. Before you left the car you told him he cannot hit on you in front of your family and he didn’t but it’s slowly driving you crazy, missing his touch.

He turns his head away from you when your sister’s boyfriend starts talking to him about tour. It is the subtle tension in his demeanor, the vein pulsating on his neck as he speaks, that draws your attention.

With a sudden impulse, you reach out and gently take Matty's hand, guiding it to rest on your thigh beneath the cover of darkness. His fingers tighten around yours, a silent acknowledgment passing between you as his gaze briefly meet yours, a spark of understanding flickering in the depths of his eyes.

“Behave,” he whispers, when your brother isn’t looking, too busy searching for his phone. You just stick your tongue at him, making him roll his eyes.

You fake a yawn, followed by you standing up, grabbing Matty’s hand, forcing him to stand up. “I think we’ll head to bed.” Matty glares at you, shaking his head in disbelief, a smile never leaving his mouth though. You thank your parents for everything and say your goodnight when you finally make your way into the house.

“You’re unbelievable you know that?” He says, following you into your room. The second the door is closed, you press him against the door, crashing your lips onto his. You don’t let him say anything else while you get rid of his jacket and his shirt under, tracing your hands all over his chest.

“Christ,” he groans, feeling your hands squeeze his bulge, “what’s gotten into you?”

You lead him to the bed but as fast as you’re on top of him the faster he has you on your back. “Are you out of your mind?” You bite down on his shoulder, “baby-“ he groans, pushing your head away from him. “C’mon, you know these walls are thin.”

You groan, knowing he’s right and you definitely don’t want an essay from your parents about how you should act. “Then be quiet, it’s not my fault you decided to touch my thigh and give me ‘fuck me’ eyes.” You roll your eyes dramatically.

“Fu- darling, can’t even look at you anymore without you getting all hot and bothered?” He smirks, “besides, we both know you can’t be quiet.”

“But I can,” it doesn’t come out as convincing as you wanted it too and Matty just raises his eyebrows, “c’mon just try okay? And when I’m not quiet we can stop.”

You place a hand on Matty’s chest. It’s crazy, but you can feel his heart pounding; the heavy rise and fall of his breath. He looks at you for a second, his lips on yours again. His hands finding your zipper and button of your jeans, opening them. He removes himself from you, pulling your pants down in one swift movement, then your panties.

His lips scrape against yours, parting so you can slip your tongue inside. Your lungs have left your body, leaving a hollow space in your chest, making it impossible for you to breathe. You feel lightheaded. But oh, the way he’s biting at your lips; tangling a hand in your hair and pressing against you. His leg is between your thighs and you practically melt on it, trying to grind on it, but he holds you down.

“Where did your patience go huh?” Your legs open to wrap around his waist. Matty groans, wanting to feel friction as well, grinding into your core one time.

He brings a finger to his lips; fixes you with a gaze that shows he’s serious. Be quiet. “I love nothing more than hearing you moan for me, not tonight love, be quiet okay?” You nod and gives you a kiss for your understanding.

You throw your head back and close your eyes. If you look at him for another second, you’re not going to be able to stop yourself from moaning. Even with the simplest gestures, he drives you crazy. You feel Matty reach his hand down between your legs. “Fuck,” you whisper.

Two seconds in and he has you gasping for breath. If you were wet before, you’re positively dripping now. You dare to crack open your eyes. Matty’s face is stoic with concentration, fixating on you, trying to make you stay quiet, and you can’t believe how incredibly turned on it makes you. He bites his lip slightly, and you think you might pass out. Looking was a mistake, but you can’t tear your eyes off him.

“What am I gonna do with you?” His thumb is rubbing your clit, while his fingers pump in and out of you, leaving you gasping, suppressing your moans, “you’re dirty, can’t even stay a few days without me having to make you cum.”

You ride his fingers until you forget your own name, and you already feel the coil tightening inside you. You grab Matty’s shoulders, pulling him to lean down over you. He kisses you. Rough and sloppy and frantic. You let out the smallest whimper into his mouth as you cum, hard, clamping your legs around his fingers.  “Didn’t know you can fucking listen,” his words are mean, teasing but his kisses say otherwise, praising you for being good.

“You’d do anything to cum,” he gets up, undressing his pants and getting rid of his boxers, only to be on top of you after only seconds, “can stay quiet again right? Can show me how good you can be?”

He puts a hand on your waist to steady you, and you feel him line up with your entrance. It takes everything not to scream as he slides into you. “Shh, love, you were a fucking beg, now take it.”

The stretch is intoxicating. You haven’t even recovered from your orgasm, but just the sight of him pausing after he’s buried inside of you, needing to collect himself, breathing hard. It’s enough to make you ache. “Please Matty.”

Matty is fucking into you, careful at first to stay quiet, but getting sloppier every second. He can’t pull out all the way for fear of slapping too loudly against your thighs, but the result is an incredible friction that has you soaring. You grab at his shoulders, his neck, and Matty lets you. When the pleasure has you tear open your eyes, you catch him watching you again. Enjoying the way you fall apart on his cock. It makes you clench around him even harder, and you catch the faintest whisper of a curse fall out of his lips as he leans forward, dropping his head to the crook of your neck. “Fuck,” you half whisper, half moan.

His eyes shoot up, ready to punish you if you are loud again. “Fuck, fuck,” you whisper into his ear.

“You have a filthy mouth,” you moan at his statement, not being able to hold it in anymore and the second another moan threading to leave your mouth, a hand is slapped over your mouth, the side of it slotting just under your teeth. Your heart pounds as Matty leans in to whisper to you again. “Bite down if you need to, don’t make another fucking sound.”

He continues to thrust inside of you, his body somehow lowering to get even closer to yours. When he has gotten sufficiently near, he presses a kiss to the side of your mouth—now stuffed with his hand and leaking spit—and mutters something about how good you are for him, how nicely you fit around his cock.

Then he tilts his hips and proceeds to pound you into the bed like an animal in heat. Your ankles lock behind his back, and his nose settles next to yours, breathing hard.

He couldn’t be more in awe seeing you veer close to the edge, again. “C’mon, cum for me.”

Then, he doesn’t sink so much as simply collapse on top of you while you both kicked back and let the waves of ecstasy roll over you. You adore his warmth in spite of the heat practically suffocating you both in that car. Matty scrunches his nose up, ripping his hand out of your mouth, a bite mark very visible and some blood dripping down.

“Fuck, sorry,” you apologize, taking his hand, gazing at the wound you created. “Don’t be, did what I told you to.”

You reach for a tissue and try to clean his hand, Matty hissing every second the fabric touches his hand. “You’re a fucking bear with those teeth.”

You giggle, the sound is replaced by a whine when Matty pulls out of you. “Told you I can stay quiet,” you wink, pulling him in for a kiss.”

“We can be very lucky if no one gives us shit tomorrow,” it’s not regret in his voice but more like a thrilling sound. He loved the secret.

“Mhm, very lucky,” your sentence has a double meaning and Matty understands it immediately, laughing before grabbing his shirt, pulling it over your head.

“Your mind is in the fucking gutter love,” he walks to the drawer to but on a pair of boxers before picking you up. “Use the bathroom, I’ll be waiting.” You smile and waddle over to the bathroom, your legs still shaking and Matty watching you with a goofy grin on his face.

[didyoulookforme]

pov: you play spin the bottle

nothing crazy. just friends kissing each other.

warning: 18+, weed, boys kissing, mentions of sex. follows no timeline.

masterlist here

-----

that evening, you found yourself at matty's flat with the boys and some other people you didn't quite know but had definitely seen before. perhaps at previous gatherings held by george or matty. who knows. they all just wanted to get high, so that's exactly what you did.

the thing is, you hadn't smoked much prior to that night. yes, you enjoyed cigarettes (after all, you spent many hours with the lot of them) but didn't have much experience with weed. yet, you didn't want to be left alone so you agreed to go along for the ride and suffer its consequences, good or bad.

ross offered you a drag and you took it. you inhaled deeply, letting the smoke fill your lungs and cloud your mind. apparently you held it in for too long that you started having a coughing fit, a very stoned ross staring while trying not to chuckle. "are you alright?" he said. "yes" cough "yes" cough. eventually you went back to normal, catching your breath, slowly feeling the effects of the drug in your body. you almost forgot how nice it felt and wondered why you didn't do it more often.

the last time was with george, back when you were a "thing", if you could even call it that. it was a rainy night and you both sat by the open window of his bedroom, sharing a joint. you were apprehensive at first but it had been a stressful day of work, so you needed to take the edge off. the weed definitely helped, but it might've also been the sex that followed. george had been especially eager to make you moan as loud as you possibly could. you could almost feel his hands tightly grip your hips at the memory of it when suddenly someone called your name and broke your trance.

speak of the devil.

george's face came into focus and started dragging you by the arm, "c'mon, we're going to play spin the bottle." he turned around to look at you, a smirk forming on his lips as he pulled you to the circle the others had formed. you thought this game was only played by horny 14 year olds, but what the hell. what's the worst that could happen, right?

you dropped down to the floor, crossing your legs and sitting between adam and george. looking around, you noticed that everyone was on some level of a high. ross was chattier and more confident than usual, which you enjoyed as you've grown to like him quite a bit. he was always a sweet one. adam looked like he was about to fall asleep, but kept reassuring everyone that he was wide awake. sure. being high looked good on george and he knew it. the fucker was just so effortlessly cool, running his hand through his hair, joint between his fingers. you had to look away, it was just too much for you to handle at the moment. then there was matty, who couldn't stop giggling at something the girl besides him was saying. you noticed the same girl put her hand on his arm and it make you feel a strange sensation. you weren't sure why, though.

a loud clap echoed in the room. "alright, everyone, here we go. i'll be the brave one and start." george announced while he spun the empty bottle of wine on the floor. you watched as the bottle slowed down, lifting your head to take notice of the lucky chosen person, none other than ross macdonald. he shot george a look, let out a big sigh, then laughed when it finally hit him what he had to do. "fine!" he conceded, getting up and stumbling over to plant a kiss right on george's lips. he immediately cupped ross's face, returning the kiss with a satisfying smack, leaving you pretty certain they'd done this before. there were cheers and some claps, making george feel smug and ross blushing as he settled back down.

next up was matty. he spun the bottle in one swift movement, landing on... ross. "looks like luck's on your side today, macdonald." the taller boy rolled his eyes, took a quick drag of his joint, and rose up to walk towards matty. he knelt before his friend, and this time it was ross who gently cupped the curly boy's face, pulling him close until their lips met. you could tell that gesture made matty excited as his hands tangled in soft brown hair. there was no question that tongues were involved, and only breaking apart once ross pushed matty away, cheeks flushed as he headed back to his seat.

the game continued and to your dismay, george ended up kissing and feeling up the very pretty girl who sat next to matty. adam had to kiss ross (surprise), but this one was just a quick peck on the lips. then it was your turn.

"let's see who gets the pleasure of kissing her. i can assure you won't be disappointed," george joked and you stuck up two fingers right in front of his face. "it won't be you, if that's what you're hoping." you smirked and grabbed the bottle.

it wasn't until you had it in your hand that you realized how high you were, immediately making you nervous of fucking up the kiss. such a childish concern, but you couldn't help it in you state. you put the bottle on the floor, giving it a hasty spin and silently praying it wouldn't point to george. it wouldn't be the worst as you'd know what to expect but you didn't want to give him the satisfaction, especially not in front of others.

it felt like the bottle took ages to slow down and once it stopped, your ears started ringing, drowning everyone's cheers as you realized matty had to kiss you.

you slowly sat back down on your heels, tugging at the hem of your skirt and feeling your cheeks turn bright red. it wasn't until you lifted your gaze that you noticed matty had stood up and was walking in your direction, stopping to kneel right in front of you.

he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and looked at you as if asking for permission to continue. you mindlessly bit your bottom lip and he took this as a his cue, leaning forward, pressing his mouth to yours.

maybe it was the weed or the adrenaline or both, but you were certain time stopped at that moment, which allowed you to melt on his lips. he tasted like honey and it was intoxicating. to your surprise, you kissed back eagerly, grabbing at the collar of his white shirt, bringing him closer to you.

again, it was probably the drugs, but you thought you heard him quietly moan when your thumb lightly touched the side of his neck.

you didn't want it to end, but you had to pull away as you had no idea how much time had passed. opening your eyes, you found matty's soft gaze fixed on yours. you smiled at each other and laughed nervously, yet no awkwardness was felt between the both of you.

suddenly you realized you still had a tight grip on his collar. "oh, um, sorry." you let go, trying to tidy down his now wrinkled shirt. "no worries," he murmured quietly, planting a quick peck on your cheek followed by another on your lips.

matty got up to go back to his spot, but not before he told george that he was right, you were indeed an excellent kisser. the tall boy just glared at matty and decided that the game was over because it was getting boring. you couldn't help but burst out laughing, prompting george to storm out of the room. oops.

"what's gotten into him now?" the blissfully oblivious, high adam asked. "i reckon matthew might have just kissed the girl he fancies," ross mentioned while getting up to fetch another joint. adam looked at you. oooh.

you chuckled and stood up, glancing over your shoulder to find deep caramel eyes gazing longingly in your direction once more.

[lonesome-sometimes]

I’ll lock and load

I’m not really sure where this came from but this is part two of your favourite centrefold so enjoy!

you were about to take a drag yourself when it was snatched back from your hold. you were going to make a quick witty comment to him about how you were a big girl and could smoke if you liked. however, matty wasn’t holding it, and you suddenly felt too crowded for your liking.

matty healy x female reader x george daniel

content warnings: rough sex, threesome (??), unprotected sex, dom matty, dom george, semi-public sex, cum play, degradation, daddy kink, age gap, slut shaming, mild praise kink, hair pulling, george is mean!

minors do not interact!

usually you would leave a quick fuck feeling fulfilled, with cum dripping out of you and into your panties and your hair a mess as you made your way back to your apartment, painting the perfect picture of a whore with a smug smile on your face.

this time though, you couldn’t get him out of your head. matty. remembering his name should have been the first sign. endless nights you spent teasing yourself, retracing where his hands left fingerprints on your hips as he used your body for his pleasure, how his voice sounded close to your ear as he put you in your place.

It was both heaven and torture, nothing you did ever coming close to the burning desire that had started when you met him. you went as far as to finding someone else to occupy your mind, going as far as going to another bar across the city to avoid seeing him but it wasn’t enough, nothing was. not your own hands, not another persons touch.

you were obsessed and you needed him.

tuesday came around and you couldn’t honestly help yourself. you spent the whole day pampering yourself, lathering your body in creams and perfumes that screamed femininity. closer to the evening, you pulled the baby blue strapless dress up over your thigh and hips, admiring the way it hugged you in all the right places as you fixed your curled hair. you pushed your feet into your heels, applying the last of your makeup, making sure your lip gloss was perfect and the blush on your cheeks a pretty pink, before grabbing your shoulder bag. you looked beautiful, stunning even, the perfect picture of feminine.

It never took you long, picking this specific bar all those months ago for that very reason. you composed yourself as you reached the building, getting into character as you pushed open the door and the familiarity of the place easing your nerves as you entered further in. you didn’t do your usual glance around at the customers this time though, knowing exactly where you were headed, what you were looking for.

you couldn’t help but smile when you found him, sitting in a booth in the corner of the dimly lit room, a contrast to the light, angelic vibe of your outfit. he pretended not to notice you as you sauntered over to his table, making sure to swing your hips as you did. he picked up the packet of cigarettes, placing one between his teeth and letting his gaze wander up and down your body in fake disinterest like it did the first time you met.

you sat down across from him, making yourself comfortable as he chuckled and put the lighter down, leaning back in his chair. “didn’t I tell you I don’t fuck whores like you?” he questioned, letting the tab hang from his lips.

you put out your bottom lip to resemble a pout, crossing your arms like a petulant child and feigning upset. “a hello would have been nice. are not happy to see me, daddy? I’m so happy to see you. I even got dressed up for you.” you whine, crossing and uncrossing your legs to reveal the white lace panties you wore underneath that matched the stockings adorning your legs to emphasise your point.

“dressed is an understatement.” he commented nonchalantly. “whatever happened to not going in for seconds?” he asked, trying his hardest not to let his eyes linger up your skirt. you guessed people talked, judging from last time when he knew your intentions before even having to say anything. you didn’t mind that, it made your life easier. people still tried though, begging for your number and promising you all you could want.

you always said no though, promising yourself you would never lower yourself to that. promises were made to be broken though, and you had everything you could ever want right in front of you.

“does that make me an exception?” he asked, pulling the cigarette from his lips as he raised his eyebrows at you.

you leaned across the table, plucking the cigarette from between his fingers and holding it between your own. your face was close to his now, lips ghosting yours as you smiled. “you could say that.”

you were about to take a drag yourself when it was snatched back from your hold. you were going to make a quick witty comment to him about how you were a big girl and could smoke if you liked. however, matty wasn’t holding it, and you suddenly felt too crowded for your liking.

“I’m hurt, princess. he gets an exception, but not me?” you whip your head around so fast you swear it could have done a full turn around, taking in the sight of the tall, broad blonde standing above you.

george.

he smirked at the dumbfounded look on your face, not expecting him to be here as well as matty. this wasn’t part of your plan, and while you’re not disappointed, all your confidence was now lost. you turn around again when you hear that same deep chuckle from before, scowling at matty as he takes a sip of his drink.

“surprised, are we? I don’t just come here to fuck little whores like you, although I didn’t exactly do that last time did I?” you blush a deep crimson, suddenly embarrassed now that you were sandwiched between the two men. “I actually want to have a drink with my mate, so if you could get-“

george coos from above you, sliding down into the booth next to you and placing a hand high on your upper thigh. “that’s not very nice, matthew. she’s ready to break her ever so strict rules just for you, and you’re gonna tell her get lost?” he teases condescendingly, power dripping from his tone.

matty sinks back in his chair, also embarrassed from being put in his place so quickly. interesting.

george turns to you now, cocking his head to one side as he drinks up the sight of you. “cat got your tongue? nothing to say for yourself now, hm?” you felt utterly helpless, trying your best to find words but facing defeat. you swallowed the lump in your throat, eyes dancing between the two of them until finally your brain began to somewhat work.

“I guess I could make two exceptions?”

suddenly, you’re being pulled to your feet and towards the bathrooms, the door clicking lock behind you as you’re pushed between the two of them. you feel matty first, his hands making home on your hips and in your hair again as he pulled you flush against his chest. pushing your skirt up, he started to grind his cock against your ass and thighs, a feeling you know all too familiar that had you whimpering. you couldn’t take that again, especially not with both of them here.

you felt george next, his body pressing tightly against yours as he titled your chin up with two fingers. his lips ghosted over yours, so close you could feel his breath mixing with your own. you pouted your lips, silently begging him to kiss you but it never came.

you heard matty unzipping his jeans behind you, a deep groan escaping him as his throbbing cock his the air and bounced against his stomach. you whimpered, desperate for george’s attention as he pushed your dress up over your ass, pushing your panties to the side with it as he lined himself up.

you moaned high in your throat as he finally, finally pushed inside of you. your walls clenched around him, pulling him home as he bottomed out. “fuck, baby! you feel so good hugging my cock just right. was it worth the wait, huh darling? worth whoring yourself out once more?” he pulled almost all the way out of you before pushing back in, precum dripping from your entrance and down the slope of your thighs. he fucked into you deep but fast, almost pulling out each time. It felt like he was rearranging your organs with each thrust, a piece of him making home inside you with each pulse of his cock or slap to your thighs. It felt fucking good.

you felt george’s fingers tracing your glossed lips then, a silent order to open. you did as you were told, whimpering when you felt the thick digits cover your tongue and slide down your throat. you felt so full, but not full enough, completely overstimulated by the two men as you were pressed between them. george continued to open your throat up with his fingers, holding your jaw with his other hand to keep you exactly where he wanted you. “such a whore for matty, aren’t you princess? being such a good girl just for him.”

you shook your head, trying your best to tell him that you were his slut too, that you needed him just as much, but his fingers were too thick and too deep and matty was fucking you so good that you couldn’t form a single thought.

“fuck darling, I’m-“ matty groaned, bottoming out as he finished deep inside you, your walls hugging him tightly as you came on his cock and nothing else. george pulled his fingers from your throat, wiping your spit across your flushed cheeks.

matty slapped your ass as he pulled out of you, cum already starting to drip down your thighs. mesmerised, he gathered the cum on his fingers and pushed it back inside you, making a comment about how he wanted you to feel him as deep as possible.

you whined when you felt the loss of georges touch next, trying your best to stand upright as he moved towards the door. “w-where are you going?”

he looked at you puzzled, as if you had said the most confusing thing known to man. “I’m going back to enjoy my drink and so is he, what we actually came here to do.” he said as though it was obvious, gesturing to matty as he turned towards the door again. matty stood behind him, same look on his face from the first time.

“but you never… george? please?” you never usually begged, that definitely wasn’t your style, but you really couldn’t help yourself. you had been pent up for a whole week, and the idea of leaving with that same need as last time did not sound fun.

“oh sweetheart.” he started, moving back towards you and crowding your space again. he brought his hands to your face, holding it in his hands as he gently left a chaste kiss on your glossed lips. you realise you hadn’t actually kissed either of them, the thought leaving a pit in your stomach. he pretended to feel bad, being gentle with you as an apology he never meant for leaving you here needy, but you could see right through him. “you never came here for me, did you? you came for him. I guess you’ll just have to try again next week, won’t you?”

the feeling of fulfilment never came, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. there was always next week and you were sure you would be back for thirds.

[wreckedandpolemic]

my kind of party - george daniel & matty healy

(mdni) in which three is a crowd, and four is a party. part of the regret me universe and summer75 2024. 4274 words.

warnings (take a deep breath): foursome (f/f/m/m), degradation, oral (f and m receiving), switch!matty, mentions of choking, spit, cumplay, idk this gets pretty gay, incredibly unhygienic use of a hot tub

Sweat prickles at the back of your neck, steam curling from the water surrounding you as a massage jet pummels your back soothingly. Matty’s thigh presses against yours from one side, Sabrina’s shoulder grazing on the other. George leans back on her other side, stretching and deliberately pulling three pairs of eyes to the muscles of his chest. The summer air is thick with humidity, an expectant tension pulling between you; each one of you knows exactly what the other three look like when they come.

The awareness hangs heavy over you, Sabrina’s hand on your thigh an inevitability in the same moment you pull Matty in for a kiss. He’s cautiously eager, hyper-aware of his audience as you slide a hand into his curls. You aren’t entirely sure why he’s so hesitant — George and Sabrina are both very familiar with the way he touches, kisses, fucks. Four, though, is new. But when you hear Sabrina sigh into George’s mouth as she reaches up to untie your bikini top, you can’t find it in yourself to feel anything but a thrill.

You groan softly as Matty takes a greedy handful of newly exposed skin, his fingers rough on your tender flesh. A pleasured moan from Sabrina pulls you from Matty’s mouth, and you turn to see her stripped naked and grinding her hips down against seemingly nothing with George still kissing her feverishly. She breaks away, turning to you with a flushed face and a sleazy grin. “Should just kick ‘em out and— mmh, get off on the jets, babe. Feels fucking good.”

Sliding your bikini bottoms off, you shift your hips experimentally, your vision nearly whiting out when you find the perfect angle and a bolt of white-hot pleasure crashes over you. “You’re onto something,” you smirk, rolling your hips down. “Still, we keep ‘em around for a reason, right? Give us a show, yeah?” you instruct. In a split-second, Matty surges across the hot tub, catching George in a searing kiss, soaking wet hands tangling in his hair

“Jesus, he’s needy, ain’t he?” Sabrina murmurs, eyes trained on the boys even as her hand wanders between your legs. You gasp, and she smirks. “But so are you, huh? Which one d’you think’s the bigger slut, Georgie?” she adds, the meanness in her tone familiar and yet newly turned on you.

“Matty,” George answers unthinkingly. “Never heard her cry and whine for cock the way he does.” Sabrina works two fingers over your clit, eyes wide with interest. 

“You fuck him?” she breathes, warm water lapping at your bare breasts as slow bursts of arousal lick between your thighs. You nod, need thrashing under your skin. “Shit. That, I have to see.” Your reply is cut off by George’s low moan as Matty slides his hand into his shorts and palms his cock, kissing at his neck when George throws his head back in pleasure.

You smirk, climbing over her and settling in her lap. “Next time,” you say, tilting her head up to brush a slow, featherlight kiss to her lips. Her eyes widen. “What? You didn’t think this was gonna be a one-time thing, did you?”

She grins wickedly, arching up so her chest presses against yours, her hand wandering to cradle your ass. “Blow my mind and we’ll find out, doll.”

Behind you, George heaves himself out of the water and you twist in Sabrina’s lap to watch him as he seats himself on the ledge. Dripping wet and gloriously naked, cock half-hard between his legs, he’s a fucking vision as Matty starts to lean in. You cough pointedly, drawing the pair of them from each other sheepishly. “S’not nice to play with somebody else’s toys without asking, George,” you say, dripping condescension as Sabrina’s head falls to kiss over your tits. “You gonna ask for what you want?”

“Want him to blow me,” George groans, muscles tensing as Matty kisses against his inner thighs, mouth desperately close to where he needs it. The sight of them is dizzying, your hips grinding down against Sabrina’s as you moan softly.

“Think you can take him, princess?” you croon, identical, sharp inhales at the sobriquet sending a burst of heat between your legs as Matty turns to you, eyes glazed and jaw slightly slack. He nods wildly, and you laugh. “Greedy little slut. Careful. He’s bigger than me. You gonna choke on his cock, pretty boy?”

In response, Matty wraps his lips around George and swallows him down, gagging when he meets the back of his throat. “Aw, s’that all you can take? Need a hand, baby?” Sabrina teases, lifting you off her lap and settling next to George, wrapping a hand around his cock as Matty bobs his head enthusiastically. You stare, entranced, as George catches Sabrina in a hot, messy kiss, playing with her tits with one hand and threading the other into Matty’s curls.

Matty whines pathetically around George, hips shifting needily with a tent in his shorts visible even through the churning water. You take pity on him, sliding down next to him and palming him through his shorts. Pressing a soft kiss against the damp skin of his neck, the salt taste of his sweat lingers on your lips as you lean to stage-whisper against the shell of his ear. “If you cum from this, that’s it. You get to help the rest of us get off and stay all needy, okay?”

He nods feverishly, George groaning at the moan Matty gives when you slip your hand under his waistband, tugging his shorts off and stroking slowly over his cock. Sabrina’s knees knock against your shoulders as she gasps into George’s mouth, his hand having wandered between her legs. Eagerly, you watch him draw tight, fast circles over her clit, her whines pitching up as she chases the sensation. The four of you must be painting an obscene picture, your head between Sabrina’s thighs while George kisses her tits, his cock in Matty’s mouth while his sits heavy and thick in your palm.

Leaning in slowly, you lick a broad, flat stripe along Sabrina’s cunt, mouthing teasingly at George’s fingertips as he toys with her clit. She gives a gasping, shuddering moan that falls straight to your cunt, thighs clenching. “How come you guys are having all the fun?” you pout up at her, licking over her hole just to hear her whine.

“Get— oh, fuck, yes! Get me off, and we can— mmh— switch,” she says, her free hand sliding into your hair and pressing you into her cunt. The taste of her slides sweetly across your tongue, dripping down your chin as low moans and slick, wet sounds fill the air above you. Matty whines and drools next to you, practically making out with George’s cock as he thrusts messily into your hand. For a moment, all you know are pleasured sounds, Sabrina dripping against your tongue, Matty’s skin against yours, the warm, soothing water around you.

You hear Matty gag obscenely, followed by George moaning out, “God, so good, fuck—” He gives a shuddering gasp, his fingers stilling as he rides out his high. “Go on, swallow like a good boy, yeah? That’s it.”

With Matty’s mouth freed, he leans against you and presses needy, open-mouthed kisses everywhere he can reach, whining when you dig your nail into his slit. George and Sabrina are still sloppily making out above you, her thighs clenching around your head and spurring you into action. You tongue-fuck her hard and deep, writhing at every needy whine she gasps into George’s mouth. Moments later, she comes against your mouth, cunt clenching around your tongue as she whimpers your name desperately. You turn your head unthinkingly, catching Matty’s jaw and licking hungrily into his mouth. The taste of George’s cum lingers on his tongue, smearing with Sabrina’s between your tongues as he moans lowly into your mouth.

“Je-sus,” Sabrina says after a moment, breaking the silence that’s fallen between you. “Let’s take this inside, yeah? Someone’s gotta get fucked into the mattress before tonight’s over, right?” She gets to her feet without another word, deliberately swaying her hips as she tracks wet footprints up to the door, her bikini still discarded somewhere by the water. The three of you share a brief, charged look before scrambling after her, almost pitching over when you slip on the wet tile.

Sabrina is lounging on the bed when you catch up to her, uncaring of her damp hair pressing against the sheets. She smirks at you, beckons seductively, and any semblance of control you might have had burns away as you fall on top of her, her lips greedily searching for any arousal that lingers in your mouth. Then, she looks over your shoulder, past you, locking eyes with Matty. “Mind if I try out your little toy, doll?”

You grin wickedly, climbing off her to gaze over at Matty, hard and begging, his skin flushed with need. “Go ahead. Doesn’t look like he’s gonna last long, though. Fuckin’ gagging for it, isn’t he?” Matty chokes on his inhale, cock twitching at being spoken about like he isn’t there, like he’s a thing the three of you can use for your own pleasure. “Come on, then, princess. Can’t be so dumb already, right? Do as you’re told, yeah?”

Spurred into action, Matty practically trips over himself in his haste, kneeling between Sabrina’s spread legs with an eager smile. “How do you want me?”

She slides a hand into his damp, messy curls. “Oh, just shut up and fuck me,” she growls, a whine pulled from his lips as she tugs hard on his hair. “Rough as you want, babe. Do whatever you want, s’long as you make me cum, yeah?”

Your cunt pulses at her words, an identical flash of arousal sparking in Matty’s gaze. Matty enters her slowly, your eyes trained on her face as her lips part in ecstasy, chest heaving and urging him to go faster. You jerk your chin at George. “C’mere,” you order, climbing on top of him the second he lays down. Leaning down, you kiss him hard, leaving him breathless as you pull away and flip around so your cunt is in his face. “What are you waiting for? My permission?” you grin, wrapping your lips around the tip of his cock. He hisses, bucking his hips up and lapping at your cunt.

You inch down slowly, letting George stretch out the corners of your mouth gorgeously. Spit drips down his cock, his tongue insistent against your clit as you swallow around him. You relax your throat, pushing down a gag; taking George is something you have to work for, and you’ve never been one to back down from a challenge. The rhythmic noise of Matty fucking Sabrina beside you makes an obscene soundtrack, George’s moans into your cunt rippling through you as you drip on his tongue.

Your nose presses against the damp, sweat-slick skin of George’s belly and you grin victoriously as best you can around him, his tongue deep in your cunt melting your brain into nothing. Sabrina’s free hand finds your clit and you grind back against her fingers, moaning around George’s cock as he fucks your mouth. An evil idea flickers to life in your mind, your hands moving almost of their own accord. You reach up to tease around Matty’s hole, the muscle quivering under your touch. Sabrina chokes as he jolts, his hand pressing hard at her throat. “Shit! M’sorry, are you—”

“Fuck, yesyesyes, do that again,” she moans, the pure lust in her voice striking directly in your core. The air is thick with arousal, saturated with breathy moans and lewd sounds, Sabrina crooning encouragements to Matty the moment he allows her breath. You’re fucking dizzy with it, drunk on George’s tongue in your cunt, his cock in your mouth, the mattress dipping under the weight of your… boy fucking your best friend as her skin presses against yours.

George is fucking your mouth with abandon, one hand digging into your hair as he laps at your cunt like you’re his last goddamn meal. You melt against him, limp, letting him fuck your mouth as ecstasy hammers hard in your blood, cunt clenching around his tongue and dripping against Sabrina’s fingers. You can hardly think, wrapped in sensation, a marionette dancing on the strings he’s pulling.

Hips rolling against George’s mouth, you swallow around him, moans coming out garbled and pathetic as slick, hot pleasure thumps in your veins. “Shit, m’gonna cum, don’t stop, fuck!” George gasps against you, moaning helplessly when you redouble your efforts, forcing him as deep down your throat as you physically can and moaning exaggeratedly. He moans out your name, hips bucking as he comes in your mouth, the hot salt taste of him intoxicating. Sabrina pinches your clit, the sharp flash of pain in your sensitive nerves kicking your racing heart into overdrive.

You pull off George and sit up, grinding down hard against his tongue and focusing your gaze on Matty and Sabrina. Her chest heaves, skin flushed and eyes glassy, the skin of her neck already bruising under Matty’s fingers. “Oh, fuck,” you moan, euphoria winding tight under your skin and threatening to burst free. One final, deep thrust breaks you, screaming out George’s name and locking eyes with Matty as you cum, cunt fluttering and arousal gushing over his lips. You moan low in your throat, your vision blurred as you climb off George with shaking legs, letting him shift a little to make room.

Drool mixed with cum leaks from the corner of your mouth, and you catch it on the tips of your fingers and press it into Sabrina’s mouth. She sucks greedily on your fingers, smirking up at you when you pull them free and wipe her saliva against Matty’s chest. His mouth hangs open, panting and moaning as he gazes at you with a faraway look in his eye. “Look so pretty, darling. Like a fuckin’ pornstar, just for us,” you groan.

“He fucks like one, too,” Sabrina grins, rolling her hips up and gasping when her clit brushes against his stomach. “Shit, baby, harder. Just like that, good boy…” she groans. Matty’s hips stutter at the praise, striking a spot inside her that makes her eyes roll back in her head.

“You’re a fuckin’ wet dream,” George groans, his cock twitching valiantly as he stares, entranced. “Does he feel good? You like gettin’ fucked while we watch? Gonna look so pretty cumming on his cock, baby.” Even without being addressed, George’s low voice sands your brain smooth, your need an insistent throb in the base of your skull.

“Oh, God, Matty, don’t stop. M’so close, fuck.” Your head swims, delirious with the obscenity playing out before you, your soaked cunt begging for attention and throbbing between your legs. “Fuck, Matty, shit! Oh, m’cumming, m’cumming, yes!”

Ever theatrical, she gasps and writhes under Matty, doing everything she can to make him lose control as he fucks her through her orgasm. Sure enough, it’s barely a minute before Matty gives a low, shuddering gasp and pleas spill from his lips. “Shit, m’gonna cum, m’so fuckin’ close, fuck! Can I cum, please, please!”

It’s impossibly gratifying that he directs his words to you even as he’s bottomed out in another girl. A sick thrill runs through you at the vicious ownership you feel over him. But this is your best friend, not a girl from the bar or a groupie, so you flash a smile and give a delicate shrug. “I don’t know. Does he deserve it?”

“God, fuckin’ look at him. He needs it so bad,” she pouts, and Matty whimpers. “Needy slut. Been so good, haven’t you? Go on, sweet boy. Cum for us.” The permission is all he needs, spilling deep inside Sabrina with a low, desperate whine, practically trembling with the release.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, fuck, feels s’good, fuck,” he whimpers, going limp when he pulls out with a slick, obscene sound. Your eyes fall to Sabrina’s cunt, soaked and dripping with Matty’s cum.

“Look so pretty all fucked out. Both of you,” you grin, nudging Matty out of the way so you can lean down over Sabrina and kiss her messily, swallowing her gasp as you run your fingers over her sensitive clit. You lift your hand and suck the mess off, moaning graphically as their combined taste hits your tongue.

Hooking a leg around you, Sabrina flips you with surprising strength, knocking the wind from your lungs and leaving you gasping and grinning up at her. Her hips shift until her cunt presses against yours, and you whine at the pressure over your swollen, neglected clit. “Shit,” you whimper as she slowly rolls her hips down against yours, heat thrumming under your skin.

“They gave us a show,” she murmurs, tossing a smirk over her shoulder at George and Matty where they stare unashamedly. “Our turn now, right?”

You grind up against her, the flames in your belly leaping higher and higher with every moan that slips from her lips, Matty’s cum smeared between your bodies. Matty is crammed into George’s lap, the pair of them trading bruising kisses as they watch you. Their gaze is hot, a shameless stare that amplifies every burst of pleasure that rolls over you. George breaks away, holding his hand under Matty’s mouth and murmuring, “Spit.”

Matty obliges, and your eyes stay glued to George’s palm as he reaches down, closing his hand around their cocks and pumping slowly. You could almost cum just from Matty’s answering moan, the sight of them disappearing into George’s fist in a languid, teasing rhythm making your head spin. Sabrina leans down, catching your jaw and your attention. “God, they look good, huh? Gettin’ off together ‘cause they know we’re watching. Can feel how wet that’s makin’ you, doll.”

You give a strangled moan, unable to tear your eyes away from Matty and George, moaning into each other’s mouth and grinding sloppily together. Your head swims, drool pooling in your mouth the longer you lose yourself in the scene unfolding around you, rolling your hips ever faster as Sabrina tweaks your nipples, the brief flash of pain utterly intoxicating. Lust-struck, you gaze up at her, a filthy smirk stretching wide across her face as she grinds down against you. “Look at you,” she croons. “Gone all stupid with it, huh? Pretty cunt feels so fuckin’ good, baby. Wanna feel you cum against me so bad.”

Whining, you thrash your head back and forth, caught between watching Matty and George or Sabrina above you. Heat throbs in your skull, your world tunnelled down to the four walls of the bedroom, the four bodies grinding against each other. “Shit, G, feels s’fucking good, you feel so good, I wanna– fuck,” Matty whimpers, moaning helplessly against George’s mouth and grinding in his lap.

“God, he is just– ohh– the sweetest little thing. Trained him up so well, haven’t you, doll?” Sabrina murmurs, leaning down to graze the words against your lips, spit-slick as she licks into your mouth. Your soaked cunts kiss, arousal stringing between you as your vision blurs with lust.

It takes monumental effort to pull together a coherent sentence. “He fuckin’ loves being used like– mmh– like this. Just wanna get us off, don’t you, baby? Such a good little slut.” Your pulse roars in your ears, amplifying every soft, lewd sound breathed out into the heavy, warm air. Your muscles are tense, pulled taut like guitar strings ready to be plucked, waiting to be tuned to that rapturous frequency.

“Oh, fuck, m’gonna– I can’t– M’so close,” Matty moans, writhing helplessly against George as he leaves bruising kisses over his neck and chest.

“Greedy little whore wants to cum again,” Sabrina smirks, cheeks hot as she admires him, eyes lidded and almost black with lust. “D’you think he deserves it?”

Matty can barely control himself, desperate and wanton, flushed all over and quivering with need. “Please,” he says weakly, head thrown back and damp curls plastered to his forehead.

“He looks so pretty when he’s made a fuckin’ mess of himself. Go on, pretty boy. Cum,” you order, and he does. You can see it in his whole body, practically convulsing against George as ropes of cum spill over his fist and splash against their stomachs. George follows a second later, his fist slowing as he paints their bodies white. The whole thing is obscene, and you can feel Sabrina pulsing against you as she watches, the sensation rippling through you and bursting from your lips in a lewd moan.

Entranced, you watch as George, sweaty and panting, lifts his cum-covered hand to Matty’s lips. “So fucking filthy,” he croons. “Gotta clean up your mess, baby.” Matty sets to work eagerly, the sight absolutely pornographic. He moans lewdly as he laps at George’s skin, sucking on his fingers and rolling his eyes back in his head.

“God, tastes so good,” Matty moans, dizzying arousal filling your head as you grind desperately up against Sabrina. The tension pulling tight in your core is begging for release, hot, liquid ecstasy flooding your veins. You lose your grasp on time as you chase your pleasure against her, desire saturating every inch of your body.

“Oh, fuck!” you gasp, your body suddenly collapsing in on itself as your orgasm steals the breath from your lungs. Your brain is melting, liquid that drips from your ears and pools on the mattress, all your awareness cut loose as your high overtakes you. You’re fucking floating, cunt pulsing insistently and tiny, breathless gasps stumbling from your lips.

“Good girl,” Sabrina murmurs. “Such a good girl, cumming all pretty for me.” You can feel her words lulling you into submission, your body weak against the slow, sweet onslaught of praise. “She’s so fucking wet, could just fuckin’ fill her up right now and she’d hardly notice.” You whine out a barely comprehensible plea, begging instinctively before you even process her words. There’s a wicked glint in Matty’s eye when you turn your head, wrenching your awareness onto him as he climbs out of George’s lap. “Shit, you want a turn? C’mon, baby, go ahead. She’s fuckin’ gagging for it.”

Matty climbs over you, filling the space Sabrina left before you even notice she’s moved, her legs in the air under George as he pushes into her slowly. “Fuck, look at you,” Matty says, tone dark and promising. “Shit, y’such a mess. Pretty little slut.” He grips your jaw, pulling your mouth open and spitting on your waiting tongue. You swallow before he even has the chance to instruct you, and you swear the faint taste of cum lingers in your mouth. He grins proudly, giving you no warning before he fucks deep into you.

You can hardly speak, barely think, aware of nothing but Matty’s hips slamming against yours, the slick sounds of sex filling the room. Matty pours filth into your ear, condescending praise sliding against sweet degradation as he fills you over and over. A sound that’s half-scream, half-whine rings out, and it takes a moment for you to realise it’s yours. “So fuckin’ gorgeous all fucked out, doll,” Sabrina murmurs, turning your head to face her. Bliss is painted over her features as she kisses you, your lips slack as you struggle to muster up the ability to reciprocate. She pours whining gasps against your lips as she comes, face contorting as she writhes under George, enraptured. 

All you can feel is euphoria, winding tight around your organs as Matty rubs at your sensitive clit, his frantic rhythm choking you. You whimper what might be his name, your legs locked around his waist deepening his thrusts. “Doing so good, darling. Takin’ me so well. Y’always do,” he praises, your cunt clenching wantonly around him. “Y’gonna cum for me, baby? Fuckin’ soak my cock, yeah?”

He pinches your clit, the heat in your belly reaching dangerous levels. You’re sweating, trembling, your words slurred and pathetic as you teeter on the edge. “Wanna cum, please, need it s’bad, Matty, please!” you cry out, wanton and lust-sick and fucking desperate.

“So pathetic, darling. Such a little cockslut. Be a good girl and cum for me, yeah?” The words are all you need, tumbling into oblivion as Matty keeps fucking you, deep and hard and punishing as you cum impossibly hard. Your vision whites out, head spinning with pleasure and sensation and pure fucking carnality, the sounds escaping you animalistic in their hunger. Dizzy as you come to, Matty grins indulgently down at you, his pace now languid and relaxed. You clench around him, weak pleas spilling from your dry throat. “Aw, baby. Needy little cumslut. Don’t worry, baby. Gonna give you what you need,” he promises.

All you can do is lay back and fucking take it, letting Matty use you like a toy until he’s spilling inside you, moaning slickly and gasping out your name as his cock pulses. He pulls out of you, panting on his knees, and you finally catch your breath.

“Well, that was fun,” Sabrina chirps, somehow carefree despite her still-heaving chest. “Jesus, I feel disgusting. I need a shower, spliff and something to eat, in that order. Anyone coming?”

Given that you can barely move, you watch George follow her into the bathroom, unsurprised when you hear high, breathy moans echoing off the tile. Matty meets your eyes with a smirk. Fuck. You’re in for a long night.

[abiiors]

the ball's in your court - george x reader (ft. matty tihi) ˚˖𓍢ִ໋`🔆:✧˚.🍉⋆𖧧🐚

a/n: aka the challengers au threesome aka utter summer filth. this is mostly george, matty's just in it because he's pretty cw: very pathetic descriptions of tennis because i know fuckall about it. men kissing (happy pride month), semi awful flirting i guess but it's not too bad this time, threesome, cumplay, joint fingering??? blowjobs, masturbation, no actual p in v sex though wc: 4k

sweat. that’s the first thing you remember. sweat dripping on the hot tennis court on a blistering day in june, running down their faces in rivulets and flying off in droplets whenever they jump and run and swing and breathe. 

sweat, soaking their t-shirts, making it cling to their sculpted bodies. their sun-tanned arms move beautifully. they’re visually appealing, at least, even if their tennis skills are a bit pathetic. too much twisting of the wrist, too much swish, a shot that’s too wide, a shot that’s not wide enough. 

at least they’re good entertainment if not good players. the joy of watching country club brats fall flat on their asses is like no other. 

you pop the gum in your mouth, and watch them from the shade. matty and george. george and matty. 

they’re regulars, and they might not know you or your name, but you know them. in the same way you know the creak in a stair—not because you’ve tried to look for it and made an effort, but because it’s a force of habit. 

you’ve watched them so many times too, right here on this court, taking out their aggressions on their rackets and tennis balls. their t-shirts ride up each time they jump, exposing their tattoo-covered torsos, the bands of their underwear. the muscles in their thighs are pulled taut too—they’re nice to look at, you think. certainly easy on the eyes. 

“we have audience,” george says, his eyes trained on matty, his mouth curved upwards into a smirk. not once does he look at you. 

matty looks at you from the corner of his eyes. his gorgeous, dark curls are plastered on his forehead, the bridge of his straight nose glistens with sweat. you bite your lip in anticipation. 

you should have gone straight inside after making sure all the balls on the empty courts were collected. you should’ve been making sure you’re not needed somewhere else. and yet here you are… indulging. 

“what do you do? just watch?” george asks loudly. suddenly, his dark gaze is trained on you. the sun might be on them directly but it’s you who feels dizzy. 

you push off the wall, walk a little further and out of the shade. “i work here.”

for a bit he doesn’t say anything, he just looks at matty who seems to be barely stifling a smile. you can’t quite decipher what happens between them then, a nod and a coy smile, like it’s their little secret code. it’s about you, that much you’re sure of. 

and your point is proven a second later when george sets his racket down and walks up to you. 

up close he’s huge, tall enough to tower over you and leave you craning your neck. the hollow of his throat is pink with a hint of sunburn, glistening just like the rest of his forehead. his white uniform is stained with grass a little, but you doubt that bothers someone like him, someone rich enough to afford a year long membership at one of the top country clubs. 

you don’t back away from him though. if anything, you wonder if you should take a step closer, wonder if you should give matty a show since he’s so busy gawking at you and george. 

george, to his credit, doesn’t try to cross the boundary. although he certainly toes it. 

“no, i can see that,” george thumbs the top button of your uniform, the one right below your throat and just above the dip between your breast. he toys with it a second, until it threatens to pop open. “i mean what do you do on the court? just watch? or…” 

“do i play, you mean.” you place your thumb over his, pop the button open easily since it’s already so precarious. when george raises his eyebrow, you shrug. “what? it’s hot.”

george rolls his eyes, but there’s a ghost of a smile on his face too. “oh, do you?”

“a little, we aren’t allowed, technically,” you admit, “but the patrons…” 

“old, sleazy men who like pretty girls in tennis skirts?” 

you laugh. “yeah, them. the managers can’t say no to patrons. and i can’t say no to tips.” 

the club’s not being very subtle either, what with your uniform being a literal tennis skirt, not one that might be functional in the slightest, not for its actual purpose anyway… 

george takes a moment to look you up and down. you can’t lie, it’s certainly flattering to steal his attention like this. 

“george!” matty calls out for him, shitting-eating grin stretched wide on his face. “quit flirting and come back for the next set.”

“yeah, go back for the next set, george,” you tease, twirling a strand of hair around your finger. he doesn’t move an inch. 

“come play a few sets with us.”

“there’ll be three of us. a bit crowded, no?” 

“why?” he cocks an eyebrow, “afraid you can’t take both of us on?”

you look him up and down, lingering especially on the t-shirt sticking to his stomach and his broad chest. then you click your tongue. “the real question is… can you take me on?”

george is distraction personified. 

you decide it’s best to play against matty first—george decides it, more like and you agree. except now that he’s sat in a chair, legs sprawled wide and t-shirt discarded on the ground, you regret it.

the tattoos covering his arms glisten under the sun, his tanned sweaty chest makes your head turn every few seconds, and every time george catches you staring, he smirks. insufferable, annoying, fucking hot. 

focusing on matty’s no better for you. he’s worse than you at tennis, that much is a fact. you’ve already won the first set against him, but then he has that way of staring at you across the net, curls dropping in his eyes, and his crooked smile on display. it’s disarming, if you’re being completely honest. 

“a break?” george calls out when you set your racket down. you are panting a little, but it has little to do with the sport and more to do with the other kinds of heat coursing through you. 

“maybe…” you begin walking off court, toying with the idea of undoing another button. it would be crass… 

across the court, matty takes his t-shirt off too, throws it on the ground and takes a swig out of his bottle. you sit closer to george. 

once your breathing returns a bit to normal, you train your gaze on him, on the way he looks at you with barely concealed interest, subtly flexing his arms while he leans forward, elbows on his knees and his chin on his fists. his jaw looks sharp enough to cut like this, and yet you have the strongest urge to run your finger along it. maybe even your tongue. 

“my friend’s dying for your number.” his tone is so nonchalant that you almost miss it. 

“matty?” you steal a subtle glance at him, lying there on the court shirtless, sun warming his skin. “and he told you this…when?”

george pokes his tongue in his cheek, concealing a smile. “we don’t always have to talk, love…”

“i see…” you mirror his pose, leaning forward with just as much interest, relishing in the way his gaze dips to your cleavage and then back up to your face. a quick glance, a stolen glance. “and you’re not? dying for my number?”

“would you like me to?”

“would you rather i go home with your friend?”

“oh who said anything about going home?”

an image flashes in your head. you, george, matty—in the locker room that would be empty this late in the day, but of course there’s always a chance someone might walk in. someone might see… quickly, you cross your legs together. george notes the movement with much interest. 

“what would you do? just watch?” you steal another lingering glance at matty, who’s sitting up by now, forearms on his knees, watching this exchange with a kind of intensity on his face that you haven’t seen yet. 

“there are worse things than watching, won’t you agree?” george steals your attention away again. 

“and is that what you do? watch?”

george laughs, leaning back. then he hooks his foot under your chair, swiftly pulling you closer somehow on the grassy turf. 

“where?”

“the lockers are free.”

“i’m serious…” he looks at matty, nodding subtly, “we are serious.”

“who says i’m not?”

matty gets up then, dusting off his shorts and walking up to you, right behind you, until his hands are on your shoulders, lightly massaging. you can’t resist a low moan that slips out of you, rolling your head back and closing your eyes. you hope he’s just as good with his hands everywhere else…

“have you decided then,” matty asks, “picked one of us?”

“why not both?”

matty grins, all sharp teeth and wicked smugness. “if that’s what you wish.”

“aren’t you so bold on the court,” george’s breath is hot on your neck, his arms circling your waist, fingers trailing under your t-shirt and up, up, up until the graze the underside of your boob. you hiss, matty falters in his step. 

still, he doesn’t turn, surveying the locker room like it’s the most interesting thing in the world. “matty?”

george’s hand still. “oh is that who you want now?”

“want you both,” you moan, “like i was promised.”

“you were promised—” george whirls you around, manhandling you like you weigh nothing to him until you’re pressed flush against his chest, and he’s close enough for you to kiss him “—nothing.”

“come on, now…” matty’s there suddenly, pressing his chest against your back, grabbing your hips until you can feel his hard dick against your ass. “let’s not lie.”

“mmm i like matty,” you smirk at george, then turn your head sideways so matty can grab your jaw like there’s no tomorrow. at this angle it’s an awkward kiss—teeth against your lips and his tongue on the inside of your cheek, but you gasp just the same, throwing yourself into it. 

george takes the opportunity to kiss your exposed neck. it’s more than just a kiss, if anything you know it’s going to leave a mark impossible to hide. his teeth graze over your pulse point, tongue circling it until you moan loudly into matty’s mouth. 

george pushes against you. “shower. now.” 

his voice is a growl, low and urgent, and not one bone in your body is capable of disobeying him. you break the kiss and turn back to george, walking backwards toward the open showers, making sure not to break eye contact. you do however undo a button of your shirt with each step until it’s completely off you, leaving you in a cream lacy bra and the tiny tennis skirts. matty whistles appreciatively, about to take his shirt off too. 

“no,” you object, almost inside the cubicle. “i want george to take off your t-shirt. go on now.”

matty raises an eyebrow and turns to look back at george. his eyes are still trained on you however, glittering with a challenge. 

“oh you want a show, darling? she wants a show matty…”

matty hmms, “go on, do it then.”

you bite your lip, eyes trailing on their bodies with barely concealed lust. george grips matty’s jaw. it’s not forceful or harsh, but it is enough that his eyes widen. he doesn’t move away though, he just lets george pull him closer and tilt his chin up. he just lets george pull him into a kiss. 

it’s a sloppy kiss—teeth colliding against each other, mouths moving out of sync—it’s a mess, frankly. and yet you can’t look away as george holds onto matty’s neck, fingers tight around the nape and lips hot on his jaw and for a moment it’s like you’re not in the room at all. 

matty whimpers. it’s a pathetic little sound that sends a bolt of thrill straight to your cunt, and you rub your thighs together, clenching in anticipation.

they only break the kiss so george can pull the t-shirt off matty and discard it into a rag. you’ve had enough of being ignored. 

“oh you are greedy,” he taunts, gripping your wrist tight just when you try to undress him. something tells you he’s used to getting what he wants, inside the bedroom and outside. 

“you’ll have to earn it though,” matty joins in. 

earn. yes. 

breathlessly, you nod, blood pumping through you at a dizzying pace. you know what george wants as he stares at your mouth, far longer than before. and so you give in, eager to please and to taste him, and you kneel, right there on the cold bathroom floor. 

“is this good enough?”

“much better,” he smirks, tracing your lip with his thumb. it would almost be a loving gesture if it weren’t for the utter and complete lust written all over his face. 

george looks eager, exchanging glances with matty, who stands against the wall, watching. his shorts are almost pulled down, exposing the v of his pelvis and the boner that he palms. matty is content watching. you turn your attention back to george. 

george leans against the wall, discarding his t-shirt somewhere and letting you pull his shorts down until they’re around his ankles, until he’s completely exposed with his hard cock centimetres away from your face. your mouth waters at the sight of him, but you choose to put your hand around him first. around his base, holding him in one hand while the other rests on his thigh. the bathroom tiles dig into your knees, but george groans and suddenly it’s all worth it.

he moans when you move your hand—a trail of your finger up along the thick vein that runs along his underside. you stare at him through your lashes, making sure he’s looking at you when you lick up his slit, already leaking with precum. 

“fuck…” matty groans behind you. 

you rather like this attention, like the fact that he’s getting off to the sight of you on your knees, about to get face-fucked by his best friend. 

george tries hard to keep his eyes open, to watch you as you put just the tip of his cock in your mouth. your hand is wrapped around his base, pumping lightly. you know it feels good because a moment later, his eyes flutter shut. 

his soft sighs turn into groans as you take him deeper into your mouth, only halfway through, still pumping him with one hand and swirling your tongue around his tip. the weight of it feels delicious on your tongue, the taste and the smell of sweat and grass and remnants off his cologne. it’s an odd mix, one that wouldn’t appeal to you otherwise. but here, now, it breaks through any semblance of control you feel over yourself, even as you try to take it slow, tease him mercilessly before you give him anything else.

but george is getting desperate, his hips bucks as he thrusts into your mouth reflexively, making you gag slightly. instead of apologising, george smirks. matty whimpers too, the sound of skin on skin and you look up at george, at his eyes that flit between you sucking him off and matty pleasuring himself. 

“do it again,” you tell him, clenching your thighs together for at least some friction. 

george raises an eyebrow. “that how wanna be treated?” his voice has almost turned into a growl, something so deep and feral, it has you taking him deeper into your mouth, all the way until you gag around him once more. 

“she’s asking so nicely,” matty taunts, breathing harshly between words. 

whatever hold george has on himself snaps at the encouragement. his fingers tighten in your hair, holding you in place as he thrusts his hips again, faster than before, harder. and with each thrust you feel more of his control slipping. 

you feel the saliva pooling in your mouth each time his tip hits the back of your throat, feel the burn around your mouth from his thickness. feel the ache between your legs that grows stronger and stronger. 

“oh fucking! shit—” he moans, cutting himself off as you hum around him and hollow your cheeks. your scalp stings from his hold, mixing pain and pleasure, making you hiss each time. 

somewhere in the meantime, matty has walked up to you, completely naked now and so much closer, closer still when he kneels next to you. you whimper, pleading to be touched, even if it’s just a little. matty seems to understand what you want. 

“such a perfect girl,” he coos, words falling carelessly off his lips while he pumps himself slowly. matty waits a moment, then unhooks your bra, letting it fall off you before he grabs one of your tits in his hand, pinching the nipple between his fingers and rolling it until white hot pleasure zings through you. your jaw grows slack and george groans in frustration. 

“did i tell you to stop?” 

you come back to the present, back to matty touching you while he’s touching himself, back to george with the tip of his cock resting on your lips, back to the ache between your legs. 

you take him in deeper as frustration builds in your body, a need for release so strong that you might almost be on the brink of insanity. 

both george and matty pant, their breaths coming out harsher, and even when your jaw aches and saliva dribbles down your chin, george keeps going, fucking your face like your nothing but a blow-up doll to him. 

“good girl,” he grunts between them, “perfect, perfect girl.” and you know it’s not long now, you can feel him twitching inside your mouth, can feel the way his hips buck and his moans grow louder. you hollow your cheeks again, moan again to let the vibration do its job. 

matty moves to stand behind you, breathing loud and almost irregular.

“shit shit shit—” george pants, eyes rolled to the back of his head and jaw slack from pleasure, “gonna cum,” he moans, “gonna cum in your mouth okay?”

you want to say yes, nod, something to let him know how badly you want to taste him, for him to fill up your mouth. 

his entire body tenses in that moment, stomach tightening visibly before you feel the thick, warm cum shoot right into your throat and all the way down. you try to keep up with him, swallowing everything he gives you but some of it dribbles down your chin anyway, mixing in with the drool, making a mess. 

almost exactly a second later, ropes of cum shoot down your back, your spine. matty, reaching his own orgasm. it’s utterly pornographic, the scene—you on your knees with cum dribbling down your chin and your spine. two men staring at you with lust-riddled eyes, in complete and utter awe.

“pretty little mess,” matty sighs softly, as if reading your mind. george still thrusts in your mouth, gentler now as he rides out the last waves of his orgasm, his cock leaking with the last drops of cum. 

you keep your mouth open when he pulls out, letting him see his release on your tongue—thick and white and milky. then you turn to matty. “wanna share?”

matty nods, crashing his lips against yours. the moment his tongue slips inside your mouth you moan. he can taste george on your tongue, can taste every drop of his cum you failed to swallow. you bite his lip, enjoying his hiss a little too much. matty lets you though…

he’s too busy digging his fingers in your jaw and your neck, almost squeezing the sides of your throat. it’s not enough to cut off air completely, but it’s enough to make your head spin. 

when matty pulls back, milky release almost coating on his lips, you feel the breath leave you in a whoosh. 

george kneels next to you, hand on your hip. 

“take this off, yeah?” his fingers taps against the waistline of your skirt. “your turn now.”

“touch me,” you whimper, grabbing george’s hand and moving it up your thigh until his fingers are practically at your aching cunt. he stills and looks at you with a grin. 

“matty can help, can’t he?”

“wha—”

“you’ve been so good to us” he whispers right into your ear, nips your earlobe while he’s at it too and you moan just from the thought of it—both their fingers stretching you out, making your see stars, the taste of cum still linger on your lips and you nod, breathless, spreading your legs to bare everything to them. 

“please,” you nod eagerly, letting matty part your legs wider, letting him graze your thigh. george, not one to be outdone, joins in a second later. 

this time when you kiss matty, you make sure to slip your tongue inside, something he seems to enjoy a little too much, and you take advantage of his distraction. 

“like that,” you moan in his mouth and grab his hand, pushing a finger inside and searching for george’s hand right after. 

“want more?” he smirks. his eyes look pitch black, blown out wide and so dark, it sends a thrill down your spine. 

george presses a kiss on your neck again, mouth rough, all teeth and tongue until you’re close to a blackout and grinding on his hand. you feel the stretch when his fingers enter you, right alongside matty’s. their hands work in tandem, pulling out and pushing in, and the burn of the stretch is divine. your eyes close of their own accord, hips undulating, back arched. 

“please d-don’t stop,” you beg, moving your hips faster and faster, matching the thrust of their fingers, “i’ll die if you stop.”

your voice is raspy and rough, like you’ve been screaming unintelligible things for hours. and maybe you have been; your body certainly feels like it, on fire with a current running down your spine every time their fingers push in deeper. 

“won’t” george promises, at least you think it’s him. his voice has morphed into something you barely recognise. but his hand moves faster and faster, thumb circling your clit, and that’s all you seem to care about. 

“ohgodohgodohgod,” you chant like a blind devotee, drunk on them both, pathetic and desperate. matty’s moves, kissing the other side of your neck, teeth over your earlobe and tongue against your collarbone. if tomorrow you woke up covered in hickeys, you won’t regret it one bit.

heat burns hotter in your chest, the bottom of your spine as you clench around their fingers, stretched out and almost at the edge 

“that’s it baby, look at me,” george says. no…it’s almost an order, “look at me when you cum.”

instinctually, you open your eyes, look right at him—at his face that is so close to yours you can practically feel his breath fan your cheek, at his completely dilated pupils and swollen mouth. he kisses you hard and rough, probably tasting himself on your tongue and that tips you over the edge. 

with a cry you cum all over their hands, panting and breathing hard. it’s barely even audible over the rushing blood. 

“fuck—” matty chokes, utterly speechless. you feel no different. 

instead, when matty pulls his hand out, you take a hold of it, place it in your mouth. he makes a sound at the back of his throat—a choked moan like he can’t take it anymore. the moan frees itself when you swirl your tongue around his fingers, licking every inch of them, sucking them clean, not breaking eye contact even once.

you turn to george next, almost expecting him to stick his fingers in your mouth, shoved deep down until you gag around them too but he’s quicker, eager enough to swirl his tongue around them while you and matty watch. 

“at least you’re better at this than tennis,” you mock, earning an eye roll from george and a laugh from matty.

the showers stink of cum and sweat. 

your uniform is probably unusable now. fuck.

with shaky legs you get off the floor, utterly naked, with no idea how to go back outside and how to do your job. 

“shower?” matty asks, utterly nonchalant. 

george looks at you for an answer. oh well… “and a smoke after that,” you add. 

“that’s the plan then,” he agrees and turns the shower on. 

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[fetushrrygf]

…

[god-has-entered-my-body]

Facedown - Matty Healy

A/N: I don't shag men irl, so soz if there are any inaccuracies regarding the ins and outs of anal xx thank you to my mates @beforeyougo-turnthebiglightoff, @man-im-so-high and @awellposhmagazine for indulging in my stupid questions and mental breakdowns in the GC❤️

wc: 7k

content warnings: smut, fluff, dirty talk, pegging, praise, also a bit of degradation depending on how you look at it, use of sex toys (strap), mentions of lingerie/matty in womens clothing, sex shops, spit, masochism, cursing, polaroids/cameras, so picture kink?, girlie immortalizes him in a picture let it be poetic

“I want you to fuck me.” 

You choke on air. Matty is a blunt person, always has been, never really caring for beating around the bush. You didn't mind it, but you feel like he could’ve worded that a bit more eloquently. He’s laying on top of you, hair tickling the bottom of your chin, curls obstructing a bit of your vision. 

“Okay, fucking hold up, what?” you're convinced you've misheard him. Even he wouldn't be that blunt. He takes a deep breath, his tone slow and condescending

“I said, I want you to fu-” you hit him, giggling in disbelief. He jumps back in surprise, a grin spreading onto his face. He was actually serious.  

“I fucking heard what you said, jesus.” Matty has this look in his eye when he’s about to do something he knows you won't like, this glimmer in his eye, and you see it so clearly. His hand grabs your face, licking across your cheek, starting from the edge of your jaw. You squirm away, wiping your skin with your hand, throwing curses at him. 

“Fuck's sake, you're like a dog. Behave and I'll give you a treat, christ.” 

“Depends on what the treat is.” he winks at you, grinning widely as you screw your eyes shut in annoyance. He just wouldn't let up, like it would kill him to be PG for even five seconds. 

“So?” he asks, referring to his original statement.

‘I want you to fuck me.’ 

His words echo through your head, making all sorts of images flash in front of your eyes. Of course he notices, trailing his fingers up your bare arm, making goosebumps kiss your skin in his wake.

It's hard to even think straight, the suddenness of the question making your head spin. The two of you had never talked about it before, thinking it wasn't even on the table. 

“Are you- are you sure?” you stutter out, a small part of you scared he was joking, trying to see how you would react. His answer makes you sigh in relief.  

“Never been more sure.'' He's smiling, a genuine, reassuring smile. 

“Actually?” 

“No, I meant metaphysically, philosophically-” he deadpans, but it takes only a few seconds for him to crack up laughing, burying his face into your chest, trying to stifle his giggles. 

You breathe out, weaving a gentle hand through his hair, guiding him up to kiss you, lips locking as he gasps softly. You stay like that for a while, kissing and holding each other, neither wanting to let go. 

“You're mental.” you mumble when he pulls away, brushing a small strand of hair out of your eyes, sweetly tucking it behind your ear. 

“Yet, you love me.” It's so perfect. His body is warm against yours, acting as a sort of weighted blanket, pressing you into the sofa. The scent of his perfume is strong, tinged with a hint of the spliff you’d both smoked earlier.

—-------------------------------------------------------------

You can tell he’s never been in an actual sex shop by the was his eyes widen when you enter, flicking between the multitude of displays and posters, having no idea where or what to look at. His hand grasps yours, one goal in mind as you both step inside, heading towards a specific aisle. Strap-ons. 

Even if it was his first visit, he seems immediately at home, casually browsing through strap-ons and vibrators like he was in a department store, looking at lampshades or containers. At some point, you manage to break away from him, finding yourself in the lingerie section, lace and silk and satin surrounding you on all sides. Your fingers graze over a specific pair of green lace panties, the material soft to the touch. 

Your mind goes back to that night, to the memory of Matty, on your bed, shirtless and panting, the only thing concealing him a pair of lacey black womens underwear. You wonder if he’d be into it, buying more stuff like that, or if he maybe had more back home, hidden in a secret corner of his drawer. 

You're snapped back into reality by a repetitive tap on your shoulder, turning around to see it was Matty. He was holding something in his hand; a light purple, see through strap, decorated with specks of glitter and incredibly detailed. You blush at the sight, before remembering where you actually were. It looked big in his hands, intimidating almost. 

“This one’s pink and glittery! Fucking awesome, who knew they had so many types?” he booms, holding it up right in front of your face. A few people turn, but most ignore his loud proclamation, going back to their own shopping. 

“You're so girly, Jesus christ.” you snigger, stifling a crude laugh. It was so Matty, always one to pick the most extravagant, out of the ordinary, even when it came to sex toys.  

“Don’t make me fucking start-” he threatens, and you promptly cover his mouth with your palm, staring deep into his eyes. 

“Shut it.” and to your surprise, he did. 

He goes back to the isle he came from, looking for more options. You’d expected it to be more uncomfortable, but you felt light, like anything was on the table. Seeing him move out of your sight, you turn back to the fabric you’d been admiring earlier, running your fingers over it, and out of the corner of your eye, something shiny catches your attention. Garters. 

Your core stirs at the thought of Matty in garters, maybe even stockings or heels. You wonder if he’d even be into it, or if that was where his adventures in femininity ended. Lost in your fantasies, you don't even realize you’d picked something up. A black garter, little heart details making it sparkle in the low light of the shop, leather and metal cool against your skin. 

“Oh?” you hear a teasing voice say from behind, making you jump slightly. Clutching the object between your fingers, you spin around, eyes meeting Matty’s, and he has this filthy grin on his face, knowing he’s caught you.

“What's this?” he takes it from your hand, looking at it closely. His eyes light up when he realizes what it is, or more, who it's for. Matty’s ego inflates as he dangled in front of you, relishing in your flustered reaction, a blush creeping onto your face. 

“Is this meant for me?” he asks, pressing it onto his thigh over his jeans, trying to figure out how it would look. He moves to the mirror located off to the side to get a better look, admiring himself in the mirror.

“You don't have to- it's just an idea.” you say defensively, scared he’ll find it weird or odd or-

“It's a wonderful one. Do tell me more, darling.” his hand trails up your arm, landing on your shoulder. You don't have time to react as he pulls you in for a kiss, short and hot. A suggestion.

You stare at him for a few moments, not sure how to react. 

“What else do you want to see me in? This, perhaps?” he struts over to the lingerie section, picking up a pair of silk panties, showing them to you. You nod your head, earning a sly grin and a wink from Matty as he puts them into his little basket.

“Or are you more of a lace kinda gal?” There's a hint of tease in his voice as he holds up another pair. The green pair. 

Your breath hitches as he stares at you, looking for a reaction, smiling victoriously when he sees it. Raising his eyebrows, he wordlessly adds them to the growing pile of merchandise he’s accumulated in the short span he’d been wandering around the store. 

“Fucking hell.” you mutter under your breath as he grabs your hand, dragging you over to the garters. It all seems unreal, the way he confidently shows off the pieces over his clothes, ‘modeling’ for you in front of other shoppers, utterly shameless. 

“I'll wear it for you, you just have to tell me what you want.” he parrots your words back at you. ‘Just tell me what you want, Matthew’

If only he knew. 

“You look pretty in everything Matty, I'd rather you pick.”

“And I'd rather you be turned on, hm? C’mon, tell me, I don't bite.” you giggle a bit at his choice of words, the marks on your neck contradicting his statement. 

“You like it when I'm pretty for you?” he whispers into your ear, the words going straight to your core. Your knees feel weak, ready to buckle at any moment if he keeps talking like that.

Nodding frantically, you press a small kiss to his lips, taking his hand. You lead him to the shoes, heels and boots of all heights and colors stacked neatly in piles against a wall.

“Oh, I'm liking this turn of events.” he grins, hands reaching out to touch a specific pair of black platforms, adorned with small gemstones along the strap. You had a similar pair, knowing just how hard they were here to walk in. 

“You are?” you question, feeling his free hand wrap around your waist, bringing the shoes up for you to touch, the leather rough under your fingertips.

“You turn me on so much it fucking hurts. I love being your little fantasy, all dolled up for you.” he speaks slowly, quiet enough so that only you can hear. You cough, almost choking on air as he adds the shoes to the basket, walking off as though nothing happened. 

“This one?” he asks, holding up another toy. A pale pink strap-on, less glittery than the last one, but still incredibly eye-catching. You eye him up and down, the way he stood like he was holding the most normal thing ever appalling you. 

“You sure?” he nods enthusiastically, eyes silently begging you to say yes. “Imagine how pretty i’d look, imagine the pictures-” 

Oh, he loved to tease you about those, your collection of filthy polaroids growing larger and larger the longer you were together, stashed at the bottom of your nightstand. 

“Sure you can take it?'' The expression on his face is priceless as you fight fire with fire, his grin vanishing, being replaced with an embarrassed blush dusting his face. 

He wordlessly adds it, walking off in the direction of the till. You follow closely, watching him take a bottle of lube (strawberry flavored, because it's Matty) from the shelf, placing it in the basket.

It was all so new, uncharted territory for both of you. Sure, he teased and you teased back, throwing witty retorts at each other until one eventually gave up, but you were both equally nervous and excited, the idea absolutely thrilling. 

The bus ride back home is slightly awkward, the bags in your hands adorning the very obvious logo of the sex shop you’d just been in, earning judging glances from strangers. Matty remains unbothered, engrossed in an old edition of vogue he’d bought at check out. You watch him leaf through the pages, inspecting outfits and designs, muttering when he doesn't agree with them. It was endearing, watching him critique world famous fashion designers, like his opinion would hold and weight in a proper argument. 

200 quid was what the trip had cost you, spending way more than you had planned. Matty had paid for it with his parents' money that they sent to him every so often, wanting him to be able to live comfortably even if they were away. You felt sort of bad, offering to use your own cash, quickly being swatted away by an insistent Matty.

“I have to pay, seeing as I am a gentleman. Besides, you're going to be taking great care of me later, so-” you manage to cut him off with a stealth elbow in the ribs, sparing the poor cashier from one of his terribly inappropriate rants. 

—----------------------------------------------------

Home is comfortable, much unlike the harsh summer weather and the beating sun that waited for you outside. Unlocking the door, you've met with the soft hum of the air conditioner, the cool air kissing your skin. Matty lets out a relieved sigh as he finally sets down the bags, stretching his arms over his head. You catch a glimpse of his lower stomach, a small trail of hair traveling from his belly button and into the waistband of his pants, which were hung obscenely low on his hips. 

“Do you want to-” you're cut off by Matty’s lips on yours, one hand gripping onto the base of your neck, the other pulling you in by the waist. Despite being almost three inches taller, you manage to overpower him quickly, pressing him into the wall behind him. He gasps against your lips, his fingers digging into your hips as you grasp him by the hair, tugging him down to meet you. 

“Desperate, much?” you say condescending, one of your fingers trailing down the hollow of his throat, grazing the skin enough to leave a faint red mark. 

He loved seeing the aftermath of you on his body, and you’ve caught him admiring himself in the mirror more than once, running his fingertips over the bruises and scratches, reliving the moments that caused them. It's not like he left you bare, either, the complete opposite, actually. Your neck was full of hickeys in various colors, some more faded than others. 

He loved using his teeth, and had once left an incredibly obvious bite mark on the skin just above your collarbone, getting disgusted and borderline traumatized looks from both Ross and George. Adam never did mention i, but you caught him stealing glances at both of you, his tell tale ‘what the actual fuck did you do’ look on his face. 

“You’re one to talk, don’t think I didnt see how you looked at me back there.” he smirks against your lips, tongue swiping along your bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth. You use your body weight to hold him up against the wall, pressing a knee right between his legs, a move he loved to use on you, and watching you grind against him is his favorite sight in the whole world.

His hips buck against your lower half, his hard-on brushing up against your thigh. He groans at the slight friction, repeating the action until you stop him.  

“Please, fuck- please.” he breathes, eyeing the bag on the ground behind you with a look of pure lust on his face.

Your knees feel weak, your stomach flipping as he reaches out to touch your face, trailing his fingers down your jaw and onto your neck, lovingly pressing kisses all over your skin, almost as if to try and convince you of something.

Wordlessly, you grab him by the collar of his shirt, leading him down the long hallway and up the stairs, almost tripping. You near the bedroom, unable to take your hands off each other as he pathetically whimpers into your mouth, nails clawing at your back.

The door swings open and you push him forward until the back of his knees hit the bed, making him fall onto it. 

“Been thinking ‘bout this for a while, haven't you?” he nods slowly, chest heaving from the sheer force of your kiss, leaving him breathless.  

“You can’t imagine.” he answers, eyes looking up at you from his spot on the bed, wide and full of want. 

“So pretty.” you whisper to yourself, reaching down to push his shirt up, revealing that little bit of hair on his stomach, so incredibly sexy it made your head spin. 

“Take your shirt off for me, I'll be back.” you kiss him again, softly this time, not even looking at his reaction before turning around and disappearing through the door. Your legs carry you as fast as they can go, taking two steps at a time as you race downstairs, eyes settling on the hot pink paper bag left abandoned on the floor. 

Rifling through the pile of various clothes, underwear, gags, toys; really anything you could think of, your breath hitches as your fingers brush against cold resin. Of course it was made of resin, ridiculously expensive as well, typical Matty. You laugh to yourself, taking a close look at the toy in your hands.

It was pale pink, hyper realistic veins running down the sides of it, the actual strappy part a deep purple, almost black. Your heart thrums against your ribcage, almost forgetting one vital thing: the lube. 

The sight before you open the door again is one that should be chiseled into stone and hung up for thousands of years. Matty is on the bed, further up so that his head is resting on the metal bed frame up against the wall, it being more comfortable that way. His shirt is off, just like you had told him. 

One thing made you freeze. His hand was covering his lower half, palming his obvious hard on through his insanely tight jeans. It looked painful, well hidden by the filthy smirk that tugged at the corners of his lips, making your heart skip a beat. 

“Kept me waiting.'' His voice is low, raspy, and desperate, even if he tries to play it off. You move without thinking, watching his eyes flicker over to the toy in your hand, which you place onto the bed out of his reach. 

“Not my fault you can't go five seconds without touching yourself.” you shoot back, kneeling onto the soft mattress. 

“Sort of is, isn't it?” he sounds playful, almost giddy as you catch his lips in a kiss. 

“You were begging so nicely before, what happened?” you fake pout at him, putting on a slightly condescending tone as he rolls his eyes at you. 

“I caught my breath.” he says, hands settling on your hips as you straddle him properly, his aching cock grinding against the curve of your ass. It feels amazing, your ego swelling as you take him in, needy and wanting for you and you only. 

“Yeah?” 

“Might have to take it again.” 

You get what he’s playing at immediately, reaching up to wrap your hand around his throat. Matty lets out a choked gasp, eyes widening at the sensation. 

“Fuck-” he’s cut off by you pressing down harder, watching all the blood in his head rush down south. 

“What? Couldn't quite hear you, speak up.” you taunt, loving watching him struggle to answer you, all that came out being needy gasps and curses.

“Please-” his breath hitches when you reach down to skillfully unbutton his pants with one hand, silently thanking the gods above he had decided to forgo a belt today, peeling the jeans off of him. He lets out a choked moan as you grip him through his boxers, wishing he had worn a pair of women’s panties, knowing it would rile you up even more.  

 “What? Use your words, Matthew, tell me what you want.” you tease, ignoring his silent begging, only slightly letting go of his throat, scared he wasn't properly getting oxygen. 

“Touch me, please.” he manages to force out, tears of relief welling up in his eyes when you take him out of his boxers, stroking his cock lightly. 

“This all for me? All because of that toy? Filthy, filthy boy.” his mind blanks, ecstacy overtaking his body and mind, the only thing he could think of was how fucking lucky he was. The strap is only visible in the corner of your eye as you kiss him hard, slipping your tongue into his mouth, drinking in every little gasp. 

You dig your thumb into his slit, his hips arching off the bed and into your hand, spurts of precum leaking out of his tip. You smile at his reaction, one question still running through your mind. This was all so new, and you were riffing off of what you already knew he liked, trying to build up as much tension as possible. 

“Have you done this before?” he takes a second to answer, slowly nodding his head. You motion for him to elaborate. A pang of insecurity rushes through you at the thought of him doing this with someone else, another person seeing him like this. You push it all down, turning your full attention to Matty. 

“Only alone, trying some things out..” his voice is uncharacteristically small, eyes avoiding you as he stutters over the second part of his sentence, clearly a bit embarrassed. 

“Oh yeah? Did it feel good?” you encourage him, desperate to make him feel as comfortable as possible. He smirks, and you can basically see the memories flash behind his eyes. 

Alone, late at night. Curiosity striking, clothes hitting the floor of his old bedroom. A mess of lube and spit, fingers experimentally curling upwards and finally, finally hitting that perfect spot deep inside of him, making him moan into his pillow, trying to muffle the sound. 

But of course, Matty has to do and say something so utterly stupid, it makes your eyes hurt from rolling them. 

“It’ll feel so much better if you do it for me, darling. Treat me right and all, seeing as I am your girl-” you playfully hit his arm, effectively shutting him up. He wasn't fully wrong, but the way he worded it was purposefully supposed to make you cringe, your eyes screwing shut and hands going to cover your face in embarrassment. 

“Shut up, what is your damage?” you ask, glaring at him as he tries his best to stifle his giggles. It's infectious, and soon you start laughing as well, falling into his arms, losing it at the ridiculousness of the situation.

“Can you take nothing seriously?” It's a rhetorical question, but he still answers.

 “Nothing.” he drags out the word, mocking you.

You take this opportunity to tug at his cock, wiping the smug grin directly from his face. It was satisfying, watching him go from cocky and borderline bratty, to a sweet, moldable putty in the palm of your hand, willing to do whatever you asked of him.

 “A-ah oh fuck, i’m not gonna- stop.” he gasps, trying to push you off. You fight back, pinning him down using your entire body, your fingertips ghosting over his cock. 

“Gotta get you ready to take me, don't want it to hurt, do you?” your voice drips with lust, relishing in the wanton sounds he lets out at your words. Matty looks at you, mouth slightly ajar as if trying to say something. You nod at him. 

“I can- I can show you. If you want. We both know how much you like to watch me.” he gestures to the camera sitting on the nightstand, grinning from ear to ear. 

“Go on.” you whisper, your voice cracking. 

He flips around, and you use this little bit of time to slip your own clothes off, leaving your shirt and panties on, settling onto the bed behind him.

His hands reach for the bottle of lube, blindly feeling around for it. You hand it to him with a sickly sweet smile, making his stomach flip as he spreads his legs, a performative moan leaving his lips as he uncaps it with his teeth, pouring the liquid onto his fingers.   

It's weird, seeing him in this position, facedown against the mattress, tugging his boxers down with his clean hand. He can feel your eyes on him, raking over his milky skin, watching him take a deep breath as the cool lube hits his skin. 

“You look pretty.” you hear him snigger into the pillow at the breathlessness of your voice.  “Right? Good genes, innit?” he says smugly, craning his head around to get a look at your annoyed expression.

“Oh fuck off.” you smack him on the arse, taking the piss out of his stupid comments. 

He gasps, and now it's your turn to be smug, grazing your nails over the skin you’d just hit 

“Seriously? That turned you on?” he nods, tracing his lube covered fingers over his hole, shivering a bit before pushing one in. 

A string of moans and curses spill from lips, panting as his back arches at the intrusion. You watch him with wide eyes, taking every minuscule twitch of his body as he curls them slightly, going even deeper. You commit everything to memory, wanting this moment to last forever, and you reach out to trail your hands down his sides, digging your slightly grown out nails into his hips, making him moan into the pillows.  

“Giving me a proper show then. Anything to get my attention, right?” you mumble, leaning over him as he fingers himself for you, groaning and twitching against the mattress, overcome with pleasure.

“It’s working isn't it?” he forces out, the feeling of your chest pressed to his back making his eyes roll back in his head, his tip leaking spurts of precum onto the sheets  

“Fuck, yeah, its working.” 

His fingers brush up against a certain spot inside of him and he quite literally shakes, arching and pushing down onto his digits, his body begging for more. You watch, entranced in every movement he makes, in a sort of daze. 

You could sense him gaining back a sense of confidence when he peers back at you, seeing your blissed out expression at the sight of him fucking himself open for you, moans and whimpers going straight to the growing heat in your core.

“Wanna fuck me? Make me moan for you?” he teases, moving his lube covered hand to his cock, tugging at himself as you pull him closer. The strap next to you burns a hole into your brain, and you reach for it, hand gliding over the resin. 

“Wanna take a pretty picture with that little camera of yours?” That was the final straw that made you scramble up, fumbling with the fastens of the toy, unbuckling them and slipping it over your underwear, the weight of it a bit strange. 

 “I’m going to make you eat those words.” you threaten, one of your hands threading through his hair, pulling his face up before dropping it back onto the pillows. He whimpers at the sharp pain radiating from his scalp, spreading all the way to his fingertips that clutch the sheets so tightly, his knuckles look pale white. 

“It's what I'm counting on, darling.” he winks, arching his back towards you, grinding his arse against your strap. This was really happening. Sucking in a deep breath, you steady yourself on your knees, taking the toy into your hand, circling his hole with it. A sigh of pleasure leaves his parted lips as he relaxes into the bed, arse up and face buried into the dark blue fabric of his pillow. 

The sound of the lube covering the strap is a bit awkward, and you both laugh lightheartedly, nervous and excited to do this with each other, to each other. He groans as you finally line up with his entrance, the tip teasing him as he bucks back onto it.  

“Want me to go slow?” you ask, slightly nervous, scared of doing something wrong or god forbid, hurting him in any way. 

“Fuck me slow, yeah?” His words drip with lust, raspy and deliberately drawn out. He notices your hesitation, and his hand reaches back to grab yours, rubbing reassuring circles into the skin of your palm.  

“Jesus, you make it sound so filthy.” His vulgar words were nothing new, his cocky manner only another tool to get you to lose it on him, never showing mercy. Just like he liked it. Rough, hard, fast, never ending pleasure until both of you were fully satisfied. 

“Stop being a tease and just fuck me.” he was now at the point of making demands, blatantly ignoring the imbalance of power between you. You tut at him, nails digging into the fat of his arse, making him wince in pain.

“Not in a place to be demanding things from me, are you now?” your tone is deliciously condescending, making his cock involuntarily twitch under him, begging for attention. 

“You want it just as much as me.” he breathes loudly, a feeble attempt at trying not to sound as desperate as he really was, not wanting to admit defeat. 

“Make me mess, fuck me dumb, I know you want to.” an animalistic groan rips itself from your throat as you push into him, feeling the smallest bit of resistance at first. 

Remembering his little reaction from earlier, you experimentally smack the side of his arse, right where its curve meets the top of his thigh, and he shudders beneath you, crying out in pleasure. You don't know what you're doing, but you do gain a flicker of confidence when he grinds down against the bed, mumbling into the pillow. Asking him to speak up, his face is now visible as he moans, hips pushing back onto the toy as you pull back out, leaving him feeling empty.

You snap your hips forward, a bit harsher this time, watching and listening for his reaction, wanting to make it feel as good as possible for him. He was trusting you with the most intimate part of him, giving up almost all control as his arms go slack under him, nothing holding his body up anymore. 

“Fuckk, that's so good.” he breathes as you set a delicate but even rhythm, speeding up a bit with every thrust as he slowly gets used to the sensation. It takes a few minutes of fucking him at an agonizing pace until you feel his whole body tense up, a choked moan spilling from his parted, spit covered lips. Your breath hitches at the sight of him drooling, eyes screwed shut in pure bliss. 

“OH FUCKK- right there right there right there jesus christ, fuck-” he curses, clawing around him, trying to find something to bring him back down to reality as your strap brushes up against his G-spot. There's a wet patch on the bed under him, precum covering the blue fabric of the sheets. 

“Sound so pretty, all for me.” you hit that same spot over and over as he pathetically cries out your name, begging for you to go faster. 

“Please, it's so good, so good, fuck me please oh FUCK.” you oblige, gripping onto his hips as you slam back into him, his back arching sharply as you pant, your cheeks a bright red. Your whole body is flushes crimson, your cunt clenching around nothing as you get off to the sounds and movements he makes, your witty words getting caught in the back of your throat

You're so incredibly turned on that everything else disappears around you, your only focus being a desperate Matty under you, writhing in pleasure as he experiences actual heaven, his whole body covered in a thin layer of sweat, making him glow in the dim light of the bedroom.

Sinful sounds fills the bedroom, reverberating off the walls making you feel dizzy, partially from the effort and partially from the boy in your bed, whimpering your name betweens strings of curses, begging you to just fuck him harder. 

Matty, though he hates it, is awfully predictable. He has cues that let you know when he’s close, his voice pitching up several octaves as you slam into him, never faltering. 

You take the opportunity to press your chest against the curve of his back, hard nipples rubbing against his skin through your thin shirt. Your voice is low, whispering lewd promises against his ear, occasionally nibbling at the skin, sucking a hickey into it. 

“Gonna cum for me? I can see you leaking all over the sheets, dirty boy” he cries at your words, tears of overwhelming pleasure streaming down his face, leaving small stains on the pillow. 

“Yesyesyes please don’t stop- so close.” he begs, every part of his body twitching and tensing, so close to the edge he could taste it. 

You don't know what possesses you. Maybe it was his comment from earlier, his tone playful and teasing, eyes dark with desire. 

“Wanna take a pretty picture with that little camera of yours?”

It's like a foreign force taking over your body. You still, ignoring Matty’s pleas for you to keep going, his hips bucking wildly onto the toy still deep inside of him.

“No- nonono please, i was so close, fuck.” you click your tongue at him, effectively shutting him up

He winces when you move, hand reaching for something on the nightstand, not even realizing what you were doing. The plastic is heavy in your hands, black lense staring back at you as you reposition yourself behind Matty, the tip of your strap teasing his hole.

He thinks you’ll continue as normal, that you'll give him what he’s been craving this entire time. All he wants to do is cum, mind so clouded with desire that he could barely speak properly

Your hands threads into his hair, his neck limp as you pull him up by it. Your fingers find the shutter, knowing you had to act fast to get the result you so desperately wanted.

Pulling his head further back so his whole face was visible, you position the camera in front of it, the sight of the lense making Matty’s heart skip a beat. 

Right as you take the picture, you violently snap your hips forward, thrusting into him at a brutal pace, making his face contort in ecstasy, mouth falling open, revealing a pink tongue between his lips.

The camera flash is disorienting for him, the shutter barely heard over his impossibly loud moans, the sounds making you feel weightless.

He lets out a high laugh as he fully gets what you’d just done, only proving his earlier point further. His little victory is interrupted by his impending orgasm, the combination of the pressure from your strap on his G-spot and the delicious friction of the sheets rubbing against his cock sending him into a lust driven frenzy. 

His moans are high pitched, almost feminine as he buries his face into his slack arms, trying to bite back his noises. You tell him to quit it, demanding to hear every single cry that leaves his lips.

“You’re such a brat, acting like I cant have you fucking purring under me in the blink of an eye.” you speak, an intense feeling of power and control taking your body as you slam into him, licking up the skin of his bare neck, making him shudder under your touch. 

“I promise i’ll be good- just please let me cum.” he’s a blubbering mess, tears rolling down his cheeks as you tug harshly on his hair, the pain only making it harder for him to hold off his orgasm.

“Please- I need it so bad- fuck, please.” 

“Oh, you need it, do you?” you taunt him, your fingers moving to shove their way into his mouth, pressing down on his wet, hot tongue. The whimper he lets out as you gag him makes your brain short circuit, your eyes are fixed on the way he grinds his hips to meet your frantic thrusts, desperate to get himself off.

“Go on then, cum all over our nice sheets. Make everything dirty, just like you are, aren't you darling?” the filthy words spill from your lips before you could even think, and Matty stills for a second before moaning around your fingers, bucking against the mattress. 

“So good, so fucking good- oh my god, fuck, feels so good-” his words are muffled by your fingers, and as much as you need to hear him, you let it slide, wanting your perfect boy to finally come undone. He cums with a scream, an actual, guttural scream of your name, convulsing under your touch as you reach around and grip his cock, working him through his orgasm. 

He gasps as ropes of cum paint the sheets, covering your hand. You slow down your thrusts, not wanting to rip him out of his dazed state just yet. He whimpers as you pull out, feeling strangely empty without you filling up every inch of him. His body is limp against the bed, chest heaving trying to take in as much oxygen as possible as he comes down from his high, slowly but surely. 

You yelp when a hand grips the side of your arm suddenly, pulling you down onto the bed next to him. Matty’s sweet smile makes your heart swell up with love as you make eye contact, his brown eyes drooped half shut in pleasure. 

“Fucking mint.” he breathes, giggling as you roll your eyes at his utterly unsexy reaction to you fucking his brains out. 

“Really?” 

His smile turns into a grin as he pulls you in for a kiss, lips pressing firmly against yours. You hand cups his cheeks, wiping aways what's left of his tears.

“I fucking love you, that was world altering, fuck me.”   

“I already did, remember?” the opportunity was right there, and you both erupt into a fit of laughter at your bad jokes, grinning widely at each other. Matty lets out a grossed-out groan when he accidently rolls into the wet patch he had left in the bed, crying at the feeling of the damp fabric against his bare legs.

But, in typical Matty fashion, he opts to just cope, too lazy and fucked out to do anything about it. You try to convince him to get up, shower, maybe do anything except roll around in his cum soaked sheets. He flat out refuses, gripping your waist so tightly you felt Matty-shaped bruises form on the skin. 

He forces you to lay with him, not letting you get up. 

“Did it hurt?” you ask tentatively, genuinely curious. He shakes his head, trying to describe the sensation. 

“A bit, but it felt really fucking great after about two seconds, so totally worth it.” he kisses you again, softer but still passionate, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down lightly. 

“Did you like it?” he asks, trailing a finger up and down your arm, scratching it comfortingly. 

All you can do is smile, the memory of what you felt making you giddy. 

“I felt powerful.” you confess, a faint blush spreading onto your already flushed cheeks. Might as well let it all out, right? 

“You like being powerful?” you nod your head, confirming the sneaking suspicion he’s had since that very first night on his living room sofa. 

“I like it when you hurt me.” you laugh, that information having been painfully obvious for a while now. 

“I know, darling, you make it so obvious.” he curses at you for quote un-quote ‘kink shaming’ him, immediately mentioning your little knack for photography. 

“What do you do with the pictures?” you’ve never told him what happens to the polaroids after they properly develop, stashed in your nightstand drawer. 

“I don't kiss and tell.” you snigger at his hurt reaction, now even more desperate to know what goes on in your mind when your finger presses down on the shutter, immortalizing Matty in a picture as small as the palm of your hand. 

“That does not work if I'm the one you kissed, I’m afraid.” you dismiss him with a shake of your head, watching the hope leave his face. He nags you further, offering all sorts of services to get you to confess to him.

“I’ll show you sometime.” his eyes light up, ready to make yet another filthy comment. You press a finger to his lips, shushing him like he was a misbehaved child, smirking at his reaction. 

“Only if you're good, though.” he nods his head so eagerly, you're afraid he might get whiplash as he shuffles closer to you, nuzzling his face into your shirt (well, his goal was clearly your tits, but you didn't need to know that.)

“I'll be so good for you, you’ll regret ever denying me.” you laugh, vowing to hold him to it.  

[allylikethecat]

the “what if I hurt it?” moment in the new make way for ducklings chapter ruined me ;( but he seems to be more comfortable talking about it! love love love love your story 🩵

Matty is full send ready to be this baby's parent even if he has absolutely no idea what he is doing and is absolutely terrified that he is going to be (and kind of already is) actually responsible for someone else (he's barely even responsible for HIMSELF.) It's like Real Matty said in that one interview that inspired this whole thing "having a baby might sort him out."

However, he is for sure having an easier time talking about it with someone whose one job is to make sure his baby is healthy and that they are going to be okay. There isn't any judgement there or any preconceived notions like with Jamie and the guys. To the doctor he is just another pregnant patient, she didn't have a front row seat to all his baggage the way everyone else did / does.

I'm so happy that you're enjoying this fic and thank you so much for reaching out! I hope you continue to enjoy it and that I'll be able to get another update out sooner rather than later 🥰 Thank you so, so, so much for your kind words!

Now my big question: what do y'all think? Should Matty and George have a boy or a girl? (please let me know!)

❤️Ally

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

My fan-fiction is going to absolute shit right now so I was wandering if people would like to send concepts ideas and imagines and I’ll get them written for you it might get my brain into action and I’ll get my fan-fiction back into swing.

I’d love to write some things for other people so if people would like to send concepts/imagines and ideas I would really love that

I can write Gatty Imagines and concept really well but if anyone has reader or y/n concepts I’d love to try for you ❤️🥹

[whimsicalpolitical]

Perfect - Matty Healy

sweet sweet aftercare ‘cause of this ask

content warning: 18+ mdni, p in v, kinda rough matty in the beginning, dirty talk, spanking, aftercare

You know right then and there, nothing you will ever experience for the rest of your life will feel as good as the drag of his cock inside you. You feel every ridge, every vein, every twitch.

You feel like you lose consciousness for a second, but regain it with the brutal snap of his hips. Very quickly he finds a pace he likes and sticks with it.

You scream out on instinct, and seconds later you are met with his hand across your mouth.

"Be fuckin' quiet." Matty snaps. He pulls you up by your shoulders, your back against his front. You'd never been in this position before, his cock is so deep inside you, you are seeing stars. You are whining against his hand and letting him use you like a toy. He is splitting you open and you fucking love it.

“Moan ‘round my hand all you want, m’ gonna fucking use you.”

"Shit, this is my perfect pussy." He says, his pace increasing as you feel the head of him brush something deep inside of you. You feel impossibly full, pleasure coursing through every vein of your body just letting him take you in any way he needs.

You squirm around him, trying to move a bit, to make you both feel better.

You feel a harsh slap on your ass next.

“Quit your fuckin’ brat shit.”

A whine slips from your lips, it’s been to long since you’ve felt his kiss. “Matty.”

“What? Hm?” He asks, “tell me your color.”

“Yellow- green-ish.”

You so badly want him close, to feel his lips on yours, kiss until your lips are red and wet from his tongue.

“What d’you need, darlin’?”

“Kiss.”

Matty chuckles and pulls your hair until your head is falling back. He collides his lips with yours. It’s an open mouth kiss, his hips not stilling but moving even more. You moan into his mouth as he sinks his teeth into your bottom lip.

“Alright?”

You nod before letting your head fall back down.

“God, my good girl, s’ it green now?”

“Yes, yes, all green.”

“S’ all it takes, a kiss from me? Pathetic.”

That makes your eyes roll back in your head. You love when he humiliates you.

"You’re a slut f’me, only f’me, understand?”

“Only f-for you.”

The white hot pleasure rolls inside of you, sparking every where it can like a frayed wire and igniting fires inside of you. He strucks down on your ass, leaving a red mark.

“That’s right.”

“Oh fuck- matty.”

He sneaks a hand around you and rubs your clit in circles, and relishes in your bitten back moans and cries for his name being muted by the roughness of his hand. He feels your muscles going limp underneath him. He feels you squeezing him tightly.

"You gonna cum baby? Go ahead, soak my cock." His voice just above a whisper.

You soak his stomach, his thighs, yourself, cumming all over him but his pace doesn’t relent. He's using you. Sliding in and out while holding your body upright against him. He's ruining you even more than before, the sound of your wetness squelching with the crack of his hips. You feel like you are going to die, in the best way. If you died right now with his cock inside of you, it wouldn't be too bad.

You feel his hips falter, and you know he is close.

The moans he is choking back sound like heaven. The whisper of your name on his lips does something cynical to you.

"Where d’you want it, love? Gonna let me fill you up? Mark you as mine?” He manages.

"In. Inside. Need to feel it, Matty, mark me.”

Not even a second later you feel it pour through you, the warmth of it filling up your cunt and dripping out of your hole. He pulls out and watched himself drip out of you. It is pornographic. He runs the tip of his cock through your folds to push it back inside you, gasping when it hits your swollen clit.

“Matty-“ you whine, the soreness already starting to get you to feel a bit shit.

“You should see yourself, all filled up with my cum, s’perfect.” He leans down to kiss your lower back, signalizing you that it’s fine to turn around and drop down against the mattress. “You’re perfect.”

You smile sleepily and lay down on the blanket, too exhausted to wrap the blanket around you and you already know he’s going to clean you up.

“Be a good girl now and stay awake.”

“Mhm.”

You sound displeased and that’s because your behind is much more sorer then any other body part. It stings and that’s why you try to find a comfortable position.

Matty stands at the edge of the bed putting on a white Calvin Klein boxer.

“baby, take it easy, and lay on your stomach. I’m gonna take care of you.”

His voice is more distant.

“Where are you going?” You ask, a little bit panic in your voice as if he didn’t just tell you he’s going to take care of you.

“Just going to the bathroom, I’m gonna grab a few things, I’ll be right back, love, don’t worry.”

“No, please,” you plead.

“Love,” Matty begins to walk towards the bed, “have to clean you up.”

“Later, matt,” you sound drowsy with your eyes closed and your hands trying to reach Matty’s body.

Matty hums and lays down on the bed, your head falls onto his chest and even though he’s now next to you, you’re still hurt. He, of course, notices.

He loops his arm around your leg pulling it over his own, his hand then travels to your red ass rubbing slow circles on your skin.

You relax under his touch, your breathing slowing down.

“That’s it, my love,” he whispers, “you’re so perfect, d’you know that? You always do so well for me.”

You don’t answer, too tired to move or talk.

“Baby, don’t fall asleep, you have to use the toilet and I have to clean you up.”

You shake your head and smile, “kiss me first?”

“Of course,” he laughs.

He leans down more, aware of the fact that you’re physically exhausted, breaking his neck while doing so. But he doesn’t care the second your lips intertwine with his. You don’t have much strength to kiss him as deeply as you do most of the time, but he doesn’t care at all.

“How about a quick shower?” He asks.

This time you don't try to speak. Your tongue is like a lead weight in your mouth and your brain is running on dial-up. The best you can do is to cling to him, hiding your face in the curve of his neck and hoping he'll understand that your firm hold on him is a request for him to tighten his own arms around you, until you're sure you won't float away. He reciprocates and it makes you feel more secure immediately.

"Can you answer me?" He murmurs, all sweet solicitation, lips brushing the top of your head in this new airtight position.

"Baby. I wanna hear your voice."

"Mhm," you manage.

Matty rewards you by rubbing your back in slow circles. His hand feels nice on your bare skin. The way you love him is too big for words. It could make you cry.

"Now?”

You shake your head and try to ignore the ache in your bones when you can't seem to get him close enough.

"Just want to stay here.”

“I know, we really need to get up now, though.”

Matty thumbs away a few stray tears, purely from pleasure, that have fallen down your cheeks. Your eyes are still a little clouded.

"c'mon, darling," Matty snakes an arm around your waist to pull you flush to him. You keep your head in the crook of his neck as he helps you to your feet and into the bathroom.

He sets you down onto the counter while he’s prepping everything, laying the softest towels down, his sweater and new panties for you.

He turns the shower on, waiting a bit until it’s warm enough. Your eyes are still a little clouded and Matty notices almost immediately.

"feeling okay?" he kisses your cheek, then your forehead, and finally your lips.

You nod, face flushing. "more than okay." Matty hums.

Matty takes his time with you in the shower. he makes sure the water is just the right temperature before he pulls you in.

His hands are soft as they wash and massage your scalp. He’s mindful of your sensitivity and when you're done, he wraps you up in a big fluffy white towel.

“What can I get you?” Matty asks.

“Bed,” you mumble, tiredness finally taking over. “But also m’ cold.”

"You're cold?" He asks and you answer him with a nod.

Earlier matty was wearing a basic white button shirt with an elegant wool sweater draped over it. You told him at least ten times of how nice you think the sweater looks.

Matty kisses your forehead. He squeezes your hip and turns around to lift his sweater off a little shelf..

"Arms up," matty instructs gently.

You do as you're told, the soft material concealing your body in the best way possible. The smile on your face tells Matty he made the right choice.

He then slides your underwear over your legs and a few seconds later you finally make it back to bed.

Matty helps you before sliding in after you. You promptly curl into Matty’s side.

“Wasn’t too rough with you, was I?”

You shake your head and lean up to kiss the corner of his mouth, “nah, you’re perfect. Always.”

He massages your skin gently, over all the places he had been a little rough earlier, gentle fingers pressing against your hips and thighs.

“You’re perfect, sweet girl.”

Locking eyes with him, you then utter in utmost adoration, “I love you so much,” craning up to kiss his lips softly. 

“I love you, I love you,” he murmurs between pecks.

“Let’s get some sleep now and then we can watch the ridiculous show you like s’much.”

“It’s not ridiculous,” you roll your eyes.

“Whatever you say.”

He snuggles in behind you, wrapping his arms around your torso much like he had when he was in the bath with you. You turn around to face him one last time to press a kiss to his lips before nuzzling into his chest. His arms shift to move around your shoulders and waist, your leg thrown over one of his own.

“Sleep well, my love.”

Having having your breathing lull him to sleep is a tune he will never get tired of playing. Nights like these, cuddled up with one another, safe in each other's grasp, are the reason he knows you’re the right one.

You want to spend the rest of your life’s together.

[noacfapologyst]

they are my fucking family i might cry

[wrestletotheground]

you get me closer to god - matty healy x reader (part one)

boss!matty

cw: ! minors dni ! smut, age gap (20/34), power imbalance, cheating, f!reader, dom/sub, male masturbation, spit, cumplay, voyeurism, semi-public, office work affair, general filth and nasty behaviour

wc: 2.1k

8:30am

you're sat on the sofa across from matty in his office, basking in the slanted rays of sunlight that peep through the blinds. the office is warm, the air filled with a faint musky scent that's recently become a comfort to you.

he called you in early supposedly to discuss your 'behaviour in the workplace', but so far it's just been him making small talk about work and typing away, deliberately acting oblivious towards the tension in the room. he throws you the occasional glance over his computer screen, but they never linger long enough to satisfy you. you're practically twiddling your thumbs in conversation, vying for his attention any way you can by throwing in little jokes and references or tapping your fingers on the chair, but he won't budge.

his breaking point is when you clear your throat obnoxiously loudly, spreading your legs and crossing them again in your skimpy little skirt just to taunt him. and oh, it works. this time it's more than a short glance. his jaw clenches as he watches you, knuckles turning white as he balls his hands into fists. it takes everything in him not to pounce on you, as if you'd mind. you smile sweetly, a glint in your eyes as you relax into the chair.

he mutters something under his breath before shutting off his laptop and clearing away the stacks of papers that litter the space in front of him. a few pens clatter to the floor as he carelessly throws everything aside. all the while you can't stop staring at him, trying to figure out the almost unreadable expression on his face.

he taps the desk in front of him twice, gesturing with his head and looking at you expectantly. the fiery look in his eyes tells you you're in for it today. he stares intently, hungrily, as you stand up and walk around as slowly as possible, just to push his buttons. before you have the chance to get up onto the desk, he grabs you by the waist and pulls you into him, making your entire face heat up.

'you know exactly what you're doing, don't you? been walking around all week in these little skirts,' he says, giving it a tug to emphasise his point. you bite the tip of your crimson painted nail and shake your head, acting naive and failing miserably. 'they leave nothing to the imagination baby, we can't be having that. nono,' he tuts, shaking his head and looking up at you disapprovingly. 'all those filthy boys in the office gawking at my girl, save it for the real man, the boss, yeah?' you feel yourself flush at his words, and all you can do is mumble out a vague 'yes' sound as your gaze wanders from his eyes to his lips and back again, almost like you're trying to memorise every detail in case he disappears.

'be good for me, darling,' he whispers, staring up at you like you're the messiah. 'mm, whatever you want,' you reply, tilting your head back as he starts running his hands up and down your body, squeezing your hips. you feel so small under his touch, acutely aware of how easy and effortless it is for him to hold so much power over you. he pulls at the fabric around your waist and you help him out by shoving the flimsy skirt down and kicking it off to the side somewhere, making his breath hitch in his throat.

without another word he lifts you up onto the desk. the cool wood touching your thighs sends a shiver up your spine, quickly being replaced by the warmth of his hands on your knees, spreading them apart without breaking eye contact. he's standing now, towering above your face and making you feel smaller than ever. 'you gonna help me out angel?'

you nod quickly, heart hammering in your chest and heat pulsing elsewhere. your thighs clamp around him, hips pushing towards the obvious bulge in his suit trousers. a condescending laugh echoes through the room. 'oh already? haven't even touched you yet and already you're fucking desperate for me,' he says, pulling your knees out from his waist. 'no, please, im just-' he cuts you off by grabbing the collar of your shirt and pushing his lips onto yours, unable to refrain from the way your voice wavers as you fall into subspace for him yet again.

the faint taste of your cherry lip balm makes him impossibly more turned on and his tongue presses into your mouth like he could just swallow you whole.

he unzips his trousers and you immediately reach out to touch him, desperate to help him, to feel him, regain some of that power, but as soon as your fingertips graze his stomach he swats your hand away and steps backwards. 'did I say you could touch me?' your head shakes of its own accord, and you whine in protest when he sits back down onto the office chair, leaving you exposed and helpless.

'you don't get to touch me or yourself. eyes on me, legs apart and keep them pretty hands behind your back unless I say, okay?' you sigh and breathe out a shaky 'okay', your head swimming at the thought of being there solely for his pleasure.

he grabs at his dick through the tight trousers and grunts at the relief. your eyes are trained on his hand, the way the veins push out as his fingers tighten around the clear outline. the way the silver band on his ring finger shines in the morning light.

you notice how his face is directly facing your cunt, drops of arousal spilling out and seeping into the baby pink cotton the longer he stares. it's getting harder and harder not to touch yourself, or him for that matter. especially when he lifts his hips and pulls down his trousers, letting them pool around his ankles. especially when he strokes along his length tantalisingly slowly, teasing the both of you. you're utterly fixated on the mouth-watering shape under the fabric, straining to be released.

he pushes his thumb under the waistband, momentarily denting the perfect shape of his rose tattoo. he moves them down, but only enough to free his cock. it's leaking already, red and angry and desperate and he groans at the feeling of the air hitting it.

'fuck, look what you do to me, love,' he says as he finally lets his hand wrap around his erection. your thighs twitch at his words.

he starts off slowly as usual. long, languid strokes as he drinks in your body in front of him, especially enraptured by the wet patch between your legs. you want nothing more than to wrap your mouth, your hand even, around him, help him feel good, but you're not in the mood of being punished today. instead you just let the coil in your stomach tighten with every little movement and sound that comes from him; let him render you an embarrassingly wet mess in front of his eyes.

you try your hardest not to squirm, not to give in and have him watch you disappointedly as you fuck yourself with your fingers selfishly, but good girls don't do that. you need to be everything he wants.

'lift up your shirt,' he huffs, teeth baring for a second as he pumps himself desperately. you oblige, gently hiking up the hem of your perfectly ironed white shirt and turning it into a vulgar sight as it touches your neck, revealing your chest to him, framed in pretty black lace that you always wear just for him.

'shit, my pretty little girl, fucking love those tits, all for me, aren't they?'

'all for you, no one else,' you reply, pushing them together and rubbing your fingers over your nipples in an attempt to ease some of the pressure inside you. you're so worked up that the simple action sends a jolt of electricity through you, making your back arch.

'what did I fucking say, leave your shirt up there, hands behind your back,' he spits. you inadvertently whimper as you obey him once again, catching the shirt under your armpits to keep it up above your tits as you place your hands back onto the hard wood behind you.

waves of humiliation crash over you at how bare you feel before him, and you have to look away for a second to regain composure.

your eyes flick to the gold rimmed photo on the wall and you can't help but wonder how long he's needed this. his appetite for you is seemingly insatiable at all times, despite the woman in white pictured next to him outside the chapel.

you're snapped out of your thoughts as a strangled groan leaves his chest. you look down and see his thumb swiping precum over the head of his cock. his hips start to buck upwards and he continues stroking up and down, faster now. you make a show of grinding up into the air as he stares at you with eyes clouded in lust. your pussy is throbbing, begging for anything, even a gust of wind, to soothe the ache that's worsening and worsening the longer you watch him getting himself off.

suddenly he stands up and comes towards you, eyebrows scrunched up in desire. he taps your jaw with one hand, the other continuing his unrelenting pace. you know the signal by now, and you open your mouth obligingly and let out a theatrical moan as he spits onto your tongue. seeing you swallow and grin devilishly up at him is what tips him over the edge.

'fuck- baby- come here,' a series of grunts falls from his lips as his chest heaves, fucking his fist hard and fast. he hooks a finger under the waistband of your underwear and pulls it outward, leaning forward so his tip is practically touching your abdomen. 'what...' you trail off, catching on to his plan as soon as spurts of cum start to dribble into your underwear, soaking and mixing into your slick.

'fucking hell,' he moans through shaky breaths. your breath catches in your throat, releasing a groan of pleasure as some of the warmth drips down and lands on your burning skin. he whimpers, eyes focused on your core and then rolling back into his head as he milks the last few drops out.

you can't help how quickly your hand goes to your aching bundle of nerves, desperate for more, hard contact, but he grabs a hold of your wrist before you get the chance. the glare he gives you makes you retract instantly, remembering his earlier orders. you lean back on your hands again reluctantly like a good girl, to please him.

he gives a satisfactory hum before gripping your neck, making you gasp and splutter with the force. even though he's a bit dazed and out of breath, the only thing that falters is his voice as he orders you around like his little plaything. 'you're gonna walk around with this pretty little cunt covered in me all day, right? come back to me at the end of the day and if you've been good I'll reward you,' as he speaks, he lets the elastic snap back against your hot skin and palms at your core through the soaked fabric. you nod and whine at the feeling of the warmth being pushed against you, the sticky mess spreading and mixing in an obscene concoction of lust, your head rolling back in ecstasy. it's wrong - so wrong - but you can't get enough.

'thank you sir,' you reply, your face burning up at the shame gnawing at the back of your mind. he rolls his eyes at how needy you look, not even 9am and you're already grinding against his hand, begging for anything he's willing to give you. 'pathetic,' he whispers, giving your cunt a light slap and dragging another sound from your lips. he slides his middle finger up his slit, collecting the milky remainder and shoves it in your mouth. he watches you moan in contentment as you lap it up, relishing in the salty taste and eventually releasing it with a pop.

without warning, all contact is lost and he's ordering you down off his desk to go back out to yours. you look up at the clock. fuck. 8:51. you scramble to get your skirt back on and fix yourself up as he pulls up his jeans with a smug look plastered on his face, throwing you a wink as he does up the zipper.

'enjoy your day sweetheart,' he smirks, grabbing your ass and pushing you out the door just before the first of your coworkers start to file into their respective cubicles. you check your reflection in a nearby computer screen to make sure you don't look as flustered as you feel, before sitting down. it's going to be a long day.

~

[undoing-anobrains]

the piano teacher - matty healy*

minors dni

wc: 2.3K

warnings: smut, soft dom matty, swearing, praise, riding, unprotected sex

Your fingers brushed delicately over the ivory keys before you in rapid succession as you played Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata for what felt like the millionth time. The slow melody was all but ringing inside your head as you tried to keep your focus on not messing up as you approached the most difficult part of the piece. It was particularly melancholic to the ear and absolutely beautiful when played correctly but technically very difficult to pull off. Especially with a distraction looming over you, observing your every movement.

Feeling the pressure while under his intense stare you missed a critical note throwing the whole piece off. You let out a quiet sigh knowing what comes next, restarting and playing the whole piece again. Casting your eyes momentarily up at your sheet music that rested on the stand you pretended to busy yourself with fixing your consistent mistake, but in reality you just wanted a better look at him.

Him being your piano teacher. Matty Healy. He was supposedly the best of the best. Or at least that’s what your parents claimed when they bragged to their friends about how much money they were forking out on lessons to ‘enhance your gift’. You thought it was a load of bullshit - you didn’t even enjoy playing the piano for crying out loud but you endured it to spend time with the devilishly attractive man stood before you now.

“You’re overthinking again,” he finally spoke. Only then did you realise how close he was to you. His tone seemed softer than it should be for a man that has a reputation for having little patience for mistakes. It sent a shiver down your spine, to think that maybe –just maybe— he was being gentle because it’s you. But you had to shake that ridiculous thought out of your head. You were merely his student, another rich girl being forced to appease her even richer parents. “Your shoulders keep tensing up at the first movement of the piece. You need to loosen up Y/n, feel the emotion of it, feel the desperation.”

Well you were certainly feeling desperation. There was something captivating about how animated he got when passionate about what he was saying. And perhaps it was that desperation that lead you to your next move. “Care to show me how it’s done then?”

“You want me to show you?” He echoed, now seemingly amused by the situation.

Maybe you’d come to regret these words later but you were determined to rile him up “well yeah, you’re kind of all talk, you know…I’ve never actually seen you play. Are you even any good?”

Matty scoffed “I’m more than just good sweetheart.”

“Prove it,” you retort with a hidden smile.

You shuffle further towards the edge of the small piano stool as he takes a seat next to you. For a moment you contemplate standing up and letting him have the space in front of the keys entirely to himself but you couldn’t pass up a front row seat to his performance. He doesn’t bother to look up at the sheet music as he places his fingers on the keys.

You can’t help but stare at the way his fingers move back and forth with a dexterity that should not be possible for hands of that size. His movements are almost paradoxical, impossibly delicate and intense at the same time. When he reaches the height of the emotion in the piece which is by far the most difficult part, the part you can never quite seem to master, you see how he stretches out his hands so that his pinky and his thumb are playing keys that seem impossibly far apart.

It’s just unfair. The size of his hands, the length of his fingers, give him an advantage that you don’t have. It’s useful to have hands like his, and you can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have them on your body. If that veiny hand was instead curled around your neck or trailing down your skin.

“Show off,” you whisper. You mean it to sound playful, but instead, you sound breathless as the music slowly fades away and he finishes.

There’s a lingering gaze between you two. As if you’re both daring the other to break the tension that’s been brewing since your first lesson. Before you even have time to react, to give in to your own impulses, his lips are on yours. You’re momentarily stunned but quickly give in. His hands wander somewhere behind your neck, gentle and cradling your head, one of his thumbs brushing your cheek delicately. The kiss grew more fervent as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. He pulls you closer to him as it became more passionate and you feel like your melting.

Little gasps and whimpers escape you but he swallows them all in his kiss. He wraps a forearm around your waist and pulls you across so that you’re now sitting on his lap. Your ass is now directly on top of his crotch and you can feel how hard he is pressed up against you. He comes up for air from the kiss and whispers against the flushed skin of your neck “your turn, sweet girl.”

“Are you serious?” You’re in complete disbelief at his request.

“Come on darling,” he coaxes you by planting soft kisses along the expanse of your neck, sucking harshly on some causing soft moans to fall from your swollen lips “don’t you want to be a good girl for me? My star pupil?”

Your hands hesitantly rest on the keys only for a second as you process the words that just came out of his mouth. His perfect fucking mouth. But then you remember yourself, and you know that you can’t disappoint him. You have to focus on the instrument in front of you and make sure not to make any mistakes which is easier said than done with his hard cock pressed up against your ass. You almost have the hang of all your movements when his hands begin to move from your waist towards your ribcage and his thumbs sweep back and forth against the underside of your breasts.

“Such a good girl for me,” he murmurs against your ear. “Tell me this is okay.”

“Fuck, yes. All of it.”

He doesn’t need any more encouragement. The next thing you know, his calloused hands are on your tits, his fingers teasing your nipples over the fabric of your thin little bralette while you will your hands not to shake so that you can finish the piece before you cum untouched.

Somehow managing to play the piece flawlessly you get a hum of approval from Matty. “Good,” he says and you preen at his approval. From there he wastes absolutely no time standing you up and pushing your tight little black skirt up to your stomach, revealing the delicate lace underwear you’re wearing underneath. He’s still sitting, his face at the right height to admire your exposed body on display for him. “Fuck sweetheart, your ass looks fucking beautiful in these.” They don’t stay on for long. Within seconds and one fell sweep your panties have been ripped .

“Sorry darling, they had to go. They were in the way of my perfect pussy.” You look over your shoulder just in time to see him stuffing the now useless lace into his pocket before his hands move to undo the button of his jeans, and then his fly. Your eyes are glued to his crotch as he lifts himself off the seat to push his jeans and boxers down far enough to reveal the most perfect cock you have ever seen.

He takes it in hand and pumps it a couple of times before he looks up at you again with something akin to mischief in his eyes. “Well, what are you waiting for?”

You don’t have to check to know that you’re already soaking wet, but you also know that you’ve never taken someone as big as him. He must see the slight hesitation in your eyes because his smirk softens just a bit. “Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll be gentle, but just while your pretty little cunt gets used to my cock.”

Well in that case, who are you to deny him? You take a deep breath as you position yourself above him, the hand that’s not holding his cock moving toward your hip to guide your movement. You can’t help but moan when the tip of his cock nestles itself between your folds.

“God sweetheart, you’re so wet already. Fuck,” he says as he pulls you down to rub your slick all over his cock and you jolt when he presses against it your clit. “I need to feel your cunt now. Move down slow, okay? I don’t want to hurt you.”

You lean forward to watch as the head of his cock disappears into you. It only takes a couple of thrusts for your body to slip into place over his and all of a sudden you feel fuller than you ever have in your entire life.

“Oh fuck, I fucking knew you’d be tight. I fucking knew it,” he says in a tone that’s surprisingly soft for the words that are coming out of his mouth. His hand presses firmly on your lower stomach so that you can feel him inside of you

“Oh-fuck!-Matty,” you moan as he slowly pulls out of your cunt, only to slam you back down on his cock roughy. His cock seems to be touching places so deep inside you that you didn’t even know they existed.

You clench around his cock as you bounce up and down on it, Matty’s hands exploring your body with fascination. It was as though he was trying to memorise every curve, every detail of you. He thrusts up roughly into you as well, stretching your pussy wide to fit him. Your eyes are practically in your skull at this point with the pleasure of him repeatedly hitting that spot inside you.

The originally slow and calculating thrusts into your pussy were a cruel taunt, with each one of them bringing you closer and closer to the edge. But as both you and Matty got closer to reaching your orgasm he began to pound a lot more rapidly and sloppier. Desperation was a good look on him you decided. The lustful eyes that couldn’t take their glossed appearance off of you, the swollen red lips matching yours, the way he threw his head back with a loud groan every time you clenched around his cock. The only noises in the echoey room were the sound of skin slamming against skin and the sounds you were making which were almost musical. An unusual kind of symphony.

“That’s my good girl,” Matty praises you as your tits bounce in his face with each and every thrust inside you “my perfect little slut, so good for me.”

You nod eagerly, brain so overwhelmed by the situation that you can’t even think of words to respond with.

“Say it darling,” his hand suddenly grasps your jaw forcing eye contact between the two of you “say you’re my good slut.”

“I-ma…I’m your good slut,” you manage to mewl out between moans.

“God your pussy is incredible,” Matty groans as he feels himself getting close to cumming “fucking milking my cock, that’s it, good girl, keep doing that.”

It hits you in waves shortly after. Every time you think you can’t possibly keep cumming, Matty and his unrelenting pace keep slamming into you, prolonging the sensation of utter fucking bliss that runs through your entire body. It’s the hardest you’ve ever come in your life.

He doesn’t stop, even as your legs go slack and he has to hold you up against him. He doesn’t stop thrusting into you even as he whispers how perfect you are, how perfect you feel cumming on his cock. He doesn’t slow down as he pushes you back down against the piano and tells you he’s going to fill you up with his cum. He doesn’t even lose his rhythm as you feel it pour into you in long streams.

Matty takes a few last thrusts before he pulls both of you back down onto the seat, his softening cock still buried in you. He runs his hands over your breasts and tilts your chin so that you’re facing him. That’s when he kisses you for the second time. His lips are just as soft and perfect as they were the first tome. His tongue running against your lower lip even more so. “You did so good darling.”

“And you weren’t bad,” you jest with a small grin “very Moonlight Sonata of you.”

You’re not wrong. The rumoured story behind the current piece you’ve been working on and practicing together is that Beethoven composed it with his student and lover in mind. Funnily enough you seem to have unintentionally mirrored it.

“Only not bad,” Matty feigns offence “well if you’re going to be a brat about it, there’s always time for round two love.”

Just as you go to reply with a biting comment you hear footsteps approaching your bedroom door. You frantically pull yourself off of Matty’s soft cock and roll your skirt back down and try to ignore the feeling of cum dropping down your thighs. Matty merely smirks as he slips his cock back inside his underwear and does the button on his jeans.

Your mother walks in seconds later with a snotty look on her otherwise pretty features “Matthew,” she greets him, all sickeningly sweet and nasally “I hope she was satisfactory today.”

Matty subtly gives you a knowing look as he responds “she was exceptional, truly, and I’m sure she’ll be even better tomorrow.”

Tomorrow. If you didn’t feel somewhat uncomfortable sitting down on that wooden stool tomorrow you were going to be severely disappointed. But if the look on Matty’s face was anything to go off of, this was only the beginning.