#the 1975 oneshot

[trumanbluee]

the only time i feel i might get better - matty healy

minors dni !! this is 17+ nsfw material !!!

please reblog if you like it! ᡣ𐭩

content: you get sick at matty's and he takes good care of you <3

word count: 4.6k

warnings: mention of vomit, oc is on her period :( , a bad ending, and matty being very very darling.

a/n: hi!! i know i said i wasn't going to post again for a bit but i think this is so cute and its just sitting in my drafts!! enjoy ( and pls reblog if you do! ) :)

She groaned in her sleep, stirring slightly as she felt another cramp tear through her stomach, the ache travelling down into her legs as she tucked them to her chest, brows furrowing at the sudden pain. She hadn’t slept well all night, spending an hour of it with her head in the toilet, Matty holding her hair back and rubbing her back softly, bless his heart. 

Her heart dropped at the thought of him having to see her in that position, retching what little food was in her stomach, up. They were a relatively new couple, having been dating for almost 6 months, and, of course, she’d had her period around him, but she’d never gotten it at his place, and never felt as sick as she did right now around him either. She felt horrible, half from the pain in her slightly puffy, bloated, lower belly, and half from the embarrassment of him seeing her like this. 

Fluttering her eyes open, she saw that Matty’s side of the bed was empty and, upon further inspection with her outstretched hand, he’d been up for a while, the sheets a crisp cold feeling compared to the warmth of her blanket cocoon. She sighed, wondering if he’d been able to go back to sleep at all after the nights events, before her thoughts of uncertainty were interrupted when he tiptoed into the room, obviously under the impression she was asleep, holding a tray of pancakes, orange juice, a cup of coffee, and a vase of fresh flowers. 

He stopped when he turned towards the bed, noticing her eyes peeking out from behind the fluffy duvet, and smiled softly, head tilting to the left as her asked her sweetly, “Morning, baby. Feelin’ any better today?”

This earned him a firm shake of her head as she sat up in the bed, lip pouted slightly to show him her discontent. He cooed, placing the tray of food in front of her on the bed, ensuring the legs of the miniature table were stable before he sat down on the other side of the bed, planting a soft kiss to her temple. 

“Don’t have to eat it all if you don’t want, honey, I just wanted to wake you up with something nice after you had such a horrible night.” He said, sitting cross-legged next to her on the bed. He pointed to two little white tablets that lay next to her orange juice. “Brought you some Panadol too, baby. Make sure you eat at least a little before you take it, don’t want you getting sick again, yeah?”

She nodded, “Thank you so much Matty,” She croaked, throat still sensitive from the acidic bile she’d thrown up in the night, “I’m sorry about last night.”

His eyebrows raised, face scrunching in disbelief as he tried to process what she’d just said. He moved closer to her on the bed, hand coming to rest on her knee above the blanket she’d wrapped herself in. 

“Sorry?” He tutted, shaking his head, “You’ve got nothing to be sorry about baby, what'd you mean ‘sorry’?” His lips turned into a slight frown, disheartened at the fact that she felt the need to be sorry about being sick. 

“Ju-Just, you havin’ to stay up with me… I just feel a bit bad that I ruined our night, I guess,” She spoke sheepishly, noticing the disappointed look on his face as she spoke. 

“Oh sweetheart,” He cooed, moving to place the breakfast tray on the floor, before scooting close to her on the bed, pulling her into his chest, one hand rubbing her back in a light rhythm, the other combing through her hair. “You don’t have to say sorry, ‘kay? It’s my job to look after you. Don’t ever apologise for being sick, baby. It happens to everyone.” 

He felt her nod against his chest, and he stopped his fingers carding through her hair as she looked up at him, thinking twice about leaning up to kiss him as she realised she hadn’t brushed her teeth yet this morning.

Almost as if he was reading her mind, he shook his head, laughing to himself softly. 

“Baby, really?” He chuckled, brushing a little bit of sleep from her left eye with the soft pad of his thumb as he did so, “ You wanna kiss me, you can. I think we’re way beyond worrying about morning breath, don’t ya’ think, darlin’?”

She blushed, surprised that he could read her so well, shoving her face into the soft fabric of his white shirt, earning another chuckle from Matty, the sound rumbling in her mind and warming her insides, affecting her probably more than it should have given her in her ill state.

She detached from his chest, fishing the tray of food up off of the floor beside her, and placed it on the bed, before leaning into Matty again, his right arm wrapped around her as she picked at the sweet blueberries that decorated her pancakes.

She sighed contentedly, sipping on her orange juice as she lay, listening to Matty’s steady heartbeat as he sat beside her, twirling a lock of her hair around his finger lazily. She’d be lying if she said that this side of Matty didn’t turn her on, his need to comfort and protect her rising to the surface in a similar way as it did after he’d been particularly rough with her in bed. The idea of him taking care of her a particularly good one in her mind. 

She felt a familiar heat pooling between her thighs as she sat beside him, glancing up at him occasionally as he typed on his phone one-handed, most likely making note of lyrics he’d thought of, his brain constantly moving 100km an hour. She watched as his slender thumb glid smoothly across his screen, pressing the keyboard expertly.

‘This shouldn’t turn me on so much.’ She thought, biting her lip lightly as she shamelessly observed him, now sitting up further in the bed to gain a better view.

She blamed it on her period. Sure, Matty was hot, and, God, she’d fuck him 10 times a day if she had the stamina, lord knows he probably did, but getting turned on by typing? That’s pathetic.

Finally, he saw her out of the corner of his eye, lower lip between her teeth and cheeks a light red as she watched him. He raised an eyebrow, turned his head to face her quizzically.

“What are you looking at?” He smiled at her and she blushed, quickly averting her eyes to the half-eaten pancake in front of her, picking at it delicately.

He laughed softly, “Going shy on me, baby?” he asked, bringing the arm that was wrapped around her shoulder up to her hair, ruffling it playfully, before leaning down to press a firm kiss to her cheek.

She tucked herself deeper into his side, having once again discarded the tray of food onto Matty’s bedroom floor. He wrapped his arm around her once more, giving her a tight squeeze. 

“You okay, honey?” He asked softly, looking down at her as she lay on his chest, tracing her finger softly on the front of his t-shirt, “Feelin’ a bit clingy today? Is that it, huh?”

She nodded, moving impossibly closer to him, wrapping both her legs around his left, her arms wrapping around his bicep, clinging to him like a koala.

He chuckled softly at her, peering at her from the corner of his eye as he watched her cling to him desperately. His attention turned completely towards her however, when he heard a small whimper sound from next to him, at the same time as she’d fidgeted in her spot, causing her sensitive clit to lightly brush the side seam of his sweatpants through her thin sleep-shorts. 

His eyes shot down to her, fearing that she was having the same horrible cramps she experienced in the night. 

“You okay, baby? Tummy hurting again?” He asked, concern evident in his tone.

She was embarrassed, not wanting to admit that the sound was out of pleasure, not pain. So, she nodded, eyebrows creasing together as she looked up at him. 

It was insane how well he could read her. From the second they met, a couple of months before they’d started going out, it was like he could see into her mind and knew almost everything she thought and could anticipate what she was going to say next.

That’s why looking up at him was a huge mistake on her part. He knew as soon as he looked at her he knew that she was lying, and he thought he knew why.

“We’re not lying now, are we sweetheart?” He asked earnestly, looking into her eyes as he spoke. 

“W-what? Why would I lie?” She said, not expecting to be caught out so soon.

He raised his eyebrow at her, expecting her to have admitted her lie, “Oh, okay… so just now, when you wriggled around for a second, and I felt your cunt on my leg, it was just a coincidence that you made that little sound at the same time? Is that right?”

She flushed red, face turning to dig into his arm to hide, embarrassed at being read so easily, once again. She let out a muffled whine, annoyed both his teasing, and her horniness. 

He sat up from the bed, unlatching his arm from her grasp to face her.

“Baby,” He cooed, “want you to use your words when you feel like this, ‘kay? Want you to tell me what you want.” 

She nodded, still covering her flushed face, now with the duvet in place of his bicep.

“I just wanna make sure you’re feeling better after last night, honey. Don’t wanna hurt you or anything, y’know?” 

He looked torn. Torn between his restraint and not wanting to take advantage of her in such a vulnerable state, and his wanting to give her everything she wants on a whim. 

An idea popped into his head, and he stood from the bed, reaching down to peck a quick kiss to her forehead, muttering a ‘be right back’ before exiting the room.

She sat in his bed, awaiting his return as she sipped on the now lukewarm coffee he’d brought her. But it wasn’t very long before he came back, having discarded his shirt and sweats for reasons unbeknownst to her - though she wasn’t complaining, she could spend hours tracing the outlines of his tattoos - especially his ‘We Are Kings tattoo - whether that be with her eyes, fingertips, or tongue.

He walked over to her, boxer shorts hanging low on his hips, and flipped the duvet off her, reaching his hand out for her to take.

“C’mon baby,” He pulled her up, “ran us a bath.” He patted her on the bum softly as he walked past her and out into the hall. She followed dumbly, brain foggy from the tooth-rotting sweetness of their morning in bed together.

Stepping into the bathroom, she saw that not only had he drawn them both a bath, with bubbles in it, which she knew he didn’t like, but had meticulously placed candles around the edge of the bath.

She could’ve cried at the gesture, and she almost did, eyes growing blurry before she blinked the tears away quickly. 

Matty stepped into the bathroom behind her, kissing her on the side of her cheek, then neck, as he reached for the bottom of her (his) shirt, pulling it over her head softly, before tugging her pyjama shorts down. He helped her step into the warm bath, holding his hand out for her to balance on. Once she was in, and he’d made sure the water wasn’t too hot, he tugged his boxers down his legs before stepping into the bath himself, setting himself behind her so her back rested against his chest.

She sighed in content as he brought his large hands up to her shoulders, massaging her upper back soothingly. She leant her head back against his shoulder, Matty retracting his hands from her shoulders to wrap them around her, rubbing her arms up and down soothingly.

He lent down to kiss her on the cheek, instead meeting her lips as she quickly tilted her head to meet him. Meaning for it to be a quick peck, he was surprised when she deepened it, running her tongue along his bottom lip teasingly.

He pulled back, hand resting on her jaw as he guided her lips away. 

He sighed, “Baby… don’t make me be the bad guy,” he frowned, not wanting to tell her a strict no, but also not wanting to hurt her whilst she was in her particularly vulnerable state. 

“Please,” she pleaded, un-slotting her legs from between his beneath the bubbles to squeeze her thighs together desperately. 

He shook his head, shooting her a pleading look, “Honey, I just don’t want you to hurt yourself or to be sick again… I promise, once your period’s done I’ll do whatever you want me to, baby.”

She furrowed her brows in frustration, annoyed at his refusal. Of course, she couldn’t be that annoyed, he was only trying to ensure her comfort and safety, but this didn’t matter in her mind, not when she was this horny. What was she gonna do if he didn’t give in to her? Finger herself to no avail? They both knew that wouldn’t work, and she knew that Matty was the only one who could satiate the need in the pit of her belly.

She spun around in the bath, being careful not to spill any water out of the bath, before pushing away from him slightly to see him better. She huffed, whining “It’s not gonna hurt, promise.”

He raised an eyebrow at her, only now beginning to grasp just how desperate she was, watching as she crossed her legs, heeling digging against her clit harshly, causing her to hiss, wincing slightly at the sensitivity.

She sighed in frustration, pouting slightly as she looked at him with puppy dog eyes. 

“What if– what if I said it would make me feel better? I swear, baby, if it doesn’t feel good I’ll tell you to stop.” She pleaded, pulling her lower lip between her teeth. 

He eyed her carefully, thinking about it carefully. It couldn’t hurt to try, right?

He sighed, lips tugging into a smirk as he finally nodded, ushering for her to resume her previous position, between his legs, back pressed against him. 

He leant down to whisper in her ear, brushing some hair away from her face as he spoke, “Make sure you tell me the second it hurts even a little, okay darlin’?” 

She nodded, leaning her head back against his chest, lingering a soft kiss onto his chin. 

He traced his hands up and down her thighs beneath the water, her legs automatically widening like muscle memory. He laughed breathily in her ear at her eagerness, before sliding his right hand to her core, pressing light circles to her clit as he planted soft kisses along her neck, her having tilted it to the side to grant him further access. 

She moaned softly, bringing a hand up to play with the chocolate curls at the nape of his neck, tugging softly as he began to tease a finger around her entrance, keeping his slow rhythm on her clit. 

“Feel good, honey?” He spoke softly into her ear, not slowing his teasing motions, but not speeding up either. 

She nodded, brows furrowed as he slipped the tip of his index finger inside her. 

“Use your words, baby. Need to hear you say it, ‘kay?”

“F-feels good, Matty, promise.” She stuttered out, his fingers speeding up slightly on her clit for a millisecond, before it returned to its original speed. 

“Good girl,” he murmured in her ear, pushing his index finger into her cunt completely, her head slamming back to meet his chest as he curled it expertly.

Her hand that wasn’t occupied with Matty’s hair emerged from the water, where it had been gripping her thigh, and she placed it on her left boob, swiping her thumb over her nipple delicately and squeezing the soft, meaty flesh around it. 

She arched her back as Matty prodded a second finger into her, curling it as he had the first. As she arched further into his chest, she felt Matty’s hard cock against her back, and teasingly wriggled against it.

He groaned, fingers speeding up as they fucked in and out of her, his hand that was rubbing her clit now came up to brush her hair out of her face, before he flicked her right nipple playfully, ripping a guttural sound from the back of her throat as he returned his hand to her clit, rubbing fast circles over it with his middle and ring finger. 

He felt her cunt tighten around his fingers, thighs slamming together to stop his hands from retracting. 

He pressed his plush, pink, lips to her ear, pressing airy kisses along it as he breathed, “Gonna cum for me, baby? Yeah?” He felt her become impossibly right around his fingers, and she moaned loudly as he said, “Gonna feel so much better afterwards, baby. C’mon, give it to me.”

Matty fingers stilled inside her as she came, eyes squeezing closed and toes curling as the water in the bath sloshed around them, her loud moan echoing around the bathroom. He waited for her breathing to settle slightly before slowly pulling his fingers out, the water in the bath cleaning them off. 

She flipped herself over carefully, legs wobbling slightly  as she straddled his right leg, her boobs planted flat against his chest. She reached up, planting a soft kiss to his lips, whining softly against them as her clit grazed his leg when she pushed herself up. 

Pulling away from her lips, Matty tutted in faux annoyance, rolling his eyes playfully.

“Still not done, baby?” He asked, smoothing his hand over her hair and then resting it on her cheek as she looked up at him,

“No,” she confirmed, half-mooned, lidded eyes peering up at him. 

He sighed, “What am I gonna do with you, huh?” He asked playfully, “Too horny for your own good.” 

She whined as she shifted herself further up his body, his rock hard cock laying flat against her slit as it rested on his stomach. He lay back against the steeper end of the bath, hands on both hips, thumbs drawing shapes on her delicate skin. 

She wriggled her hips slightly, his cock bumping over her clit multiple times before she rose to her knees, almost slipping on the slippery bottom of the bath, luckily being caught by Matty’s large hands on her hips again. 

She laughed softly, looking up at him as she did so, seeing him biting his lip softly to keep in his laugh, the rumbling of his chest betraying him. She slapped his stomach playfully. 

“Hey!” She scolded, “Don’t laugh at me,” She said with a fake pout on her face. 

Matty cooed, laughter still rumbling in his chest as he spoke, “Aw, sorry honey, it's just, when I said I didn’t want you to get hurt, I didn’t mean slipping over in the bath and dying.” He giggled as he spoke, and she couldn’t help but grin at him, pouncing onto him to plant a sweet kiss to his lips, before pulling away.

Her brows furrowed and index finger pointed at him as she reprimanded him, trying her best to keep her face straight as she spoke, “Okay! No more laughing,” Her eyes narrowed at him accusingly, “back to sex.” 

He nodded stiffly, hand coming up to his head as he saluted her militarily, firmly repeating her previous statement. 

She giggled softly, lifting her leg up with help from Matty, before shifting herself on top of him completely, his hard cock trapped between her sticky cunt and his firm belly. She groaned as she rocked back and forth slowly, before pushing herself up slightly, grabbing the base of his cock, tapping it on her clit a few times before she pushed it into herself, sighing in content as she sunk down, the full feeling in her tummy satiating the desire she’d been holding there all day. 

He groaned softly, brows knitting together as she sunk all the way down onto his cock, her clit brushing against the groomed pubic hair at the base. His hands rested on her hips, rubbing shapes softly as he helped guide her up and down on his length. She was so tight around him, clamping down hard when he moved a hand from her hip down to rub her tender, puffy clit.

She moaned breathily, back arched and head thrown back as she bounced on his cock rapidly, water splashing around the bath and onto the floor. Her right hand rested on Matty’s ‘We are Kings’ tattoo, providing her with leverage to move quicker, and her left hand wrapped tightly around his wrist, nails digging into his Mortal Kombat tattoo as her orgasm approached her. 

Matty felt her hips faltering slightly, and her thighs began to shake, causing him to tighten his grip on her hips, holding her still as he slammed his hips up to meet hers. She whined loudly, his thick cock filling her completely, slamming against her cervix with every unyielding thrust. 

“Feelin’ good, baby? He asked breathily, panting slightly, his curls falling in his face, sticking to his slightly damp forehead.

She responded the only way she could through her foggy, fucked-out brain, squeezing his forearm impossibly tight and keening loudly, before her mouth fell open in a silent scream. 

He continued his relentless pace, bringing them both closer and closer to cumming. His brows knitted together in concentration as he tried to keep his pace consistent, but he was struggling. She was so fucking tight, squeezing him like she was afraid that if she didn’t, he’d somehow disappear. 

Thankfully, he could tell she was close, her lower lip pulled between her teeth and cheeks rosy, and he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t had to hold his orgasm since the second he’d slipped into her. Something about his cock and her cunt fit so right, he could probably cum just at the thought of it. 

Matty looked up at her through the mess of wet curls in front of his eyes, “Need you to rub your clit for me now, ‘kay honey?”. 

She immediately obeyed, bringing the hand that was wrapped around his wrist to rub her clit at a harsh pace. She cried out, hand faltering slightly at the intense pressure building in her lower belly. 

She was so close, she just needed something, anything, to push her over the edge, and almost as though Matty read her mind, he leaned forward, attaching his mouth to her left breast, swirling his tongue around and biting lightly at her perked up nipple. 

The hand rubbing her clit and rapid hip movements halted as she felt Matty, whose head now rested on her shoulder, still inside her, groaning loudly as he came inside her, rope after rope of his sticky cum coating her walls. She wailed, eyes rolling back into her head as the tightness in her stomach finally released. She leaned forward to bite Matty’s shoulder softly, tears streaming down her cheeks at the intensity of both her orgasms. 

She slipped her arms out from between their chests, wrapping them tightly around Matty’s neck before pressing her head into his neck, sighing contently. 

Matty smiled softly against her, lifting the hand that still rested on her left hip to rub her back gently. 

“Water’s gone all cold, sweetheart,” He said, slightly muffled by the delicate skin of her shoulder.

She shrugged lazily in his arms, murmuring back a sweet, “M’cozy.”

“Y’cosy?” He bit back a soft laugh at her lovely voice, “Not gonna be so ‘cosy’ when you get a cold, honey.” He continued rubbing her back, cooing inwardly when he heart a soft sniffle beneath him. 

“How ‘bout this, baby, let me get out, and I’ll go get your clothes, get you nice and dry, and then we can go back to this exact position in my bed… That sound good?”

She nodded weakly against his chest, and that's exactly what they did. Quickly pulling on a new pair of sweats, he remembered he’d laid out some boxers and an old sweatshirt of his on the bed before he’d gotten in the bath, and he was particularly grateful for it now, grabbing the pile off the bed, and a towel warmed from the dryer, before speed-walking back to the bathroom. He knocked softly before walking in, wanting to be safer than sorry, and heard a soft hum from behind the door. A sign to enter, he assumed. 

Walking in, he saw that she was still in the exact position he’d left her in, knees tucked to her chest, with her chin rested against her knees. He cooed, putting her new clothes on the basin before helping her stand in the bath, opening the warm towel and wrapping it around her body, her hands poking out to keep it wrapped around herself as he scooped her up, setting her down to sit on the lid of the toilet. 

Grabbing the clothes off the basin, he slipped the soft grey sweater over her head, and pulled his boxers up her legs, pressing a kiss to her forehead once she was dressed. 

She murmured a ‘thank you’, to which he responded by kissing her again, this time on her lips, before picking her up again, placing a hand on her left knee, pushing it to wrap around his waist, before doing the same to her right. 

Keeping her steady with a hand on her bum, he walked the few steps to his bed as quickly as possible. He held her up with one hand as he used the other to pull back the covers, before carefully crawling into the bed, being sure not to disturbed her comfort in his arms as he did so. 

Wrapping the soft duvet around the both of them, he looked down at her to see her smiling up at him. He beamed back at her, dimples visible in his cheeks, before leaning down to press a soft kiss to her puffy lips. 

She sighed in content, pulling away from the kiss and resting her head on his shoulder again, nose nuzzling against the soft skin of his neck. He smiled to himself, before picking up his phone from the bedside table, checking his notifications quickly before he opened Instagram, scrolling aimlessly through his reels. He swiped upon a particularly funny minions meme, pushing air out of his nostrils in a half-laugh, before angling his phone down to show her. He looked down to watch her reaction, his favourite thing in the world being to see her laugh - it was automatically a great day for him whenever he was the one to coax a giggle from her - but instead saw she was asleep, lips parted slightly, and eyebrows relaxed. 

He smiled fondly down at her, using the arm she was laying on to rub soothingly up and down her arm. He clicked ‘Save’ on the meme, telling himself to remember to show her later, before he opened Safari, logging into Twitter, or ‘X’ now, - ‘so fucking stupid’ he thought - looking to see what fans had to say about their new show, ‘Still… at their very best.’

©trumanbluee - reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated! but i do not wish for my work to be republished, translated, or copied. thanks!

[kate-the1975]

A Girl’s Best Friend // dad!Matty

CW: none! Just fluffiness

WC: 1,836 words

A/N: I’m back! Finally got my writing spark back and I can’t wait to continue sharing my ideas xxx

The soft, hazy light of early morning filtered through the curtains, casting pale beams across the room. You could feel the faint warmth of Matty's body pressed against yours, his arm wrapped around your waist, his breath steady and slow. The house was still—until the sound of tiny feet pattering across the floor broke the silence.

You blinked awake, groggily adjusting to the daylight. Matty, still half-asleep, groaned beside you. You turned to look at the source of the disturbance, a small figure standing at the edge of the bed, clutching her favourite stuffed bunny. Her big eyes—those dark, familiar eyes—were wide, and there was a slight quiver in her voice when she spoke.

"Mummy... Daddy..." Rosie whispered, her small voice thick with sleepiness. "I feel... sick."

You sat up, heart immediately lurching with concern. Matty stirred beside you but remained half asleep, only half aware of the situation.

"Rosie, sweetheart, what's wrong?" You reached out to her, pulling her onto the bed, wrapping her in your arms. She was warm, her forehead resting against your shoulder, and you could feel the soft rise and fall of her chest as she snuggled close.

"I... my tummy hurts," Rosie mumbled, her voice small. She looked up at you with those round, innocent eyes, her face scrunched in discomfort. "It hurts..."

Matty's eyes fluttered open then, his messy curls tumbling over his forehead as he blinked at the scene. "What's going on?" he asked groggily, his voice heavy with sleep. "Is she okay?"

"I think she has a stomach ache," you said, running a hand through Rosie's hair. "Do you feel sick, darling? Do you need some water or...?"

Rosie shook her head. "No..." She hesitated, twisting her fingers around the bunny's floppy ears. Then, after a long pause, she looked up at you, a little tearful, and said in a tiny, nervous voice, "I don't wanna go to play school."

Your heart softened, the knot of worry dissolving slightly. Matty, fully awake now, sat up and rubbed a hand over his face. "Ah, baba...." He leaned down and scooped Rosie into his lap, hugging her tight. "You don't have to be scared, you know that? Play school is fun! You're gonna have a great day."

"But... what if the other kids don't like me?" Rosie's voice quivered, her eyes wide with worry. "What if they don't want to play with me?"

You looked at Matty, both of you reading the same sentiment in each other's eyes: she was just scared. She was only three, but the world felt like a massive place to her sometimes.

"Rosie," you said gently, lifting her chin so she looked at you, "you're so special, sweetheart. And you know what? You're really brave. You'll make friends today, I'm sure of it."

"But what if I don't?" Rosie whispered, her lower lip trembling.

Matty let out a soft chuckle, pulling her close. "Sweetheart, if you don't make a friend today, it's okay. You'll make lots of friends eventually. But I know you're gonna be so good at making new friends because you're funny and smart and kind."

Rosie still looked unconvinced, though. Her stomach ache didn't seem to be a real physical one; it was all in her head. She wanted to stay home with you both, the warmth of the bed, and the safety of familiar arms. She wanted to be with her parents.

Matty glanced at you with a knowing smile. "Hey, love," he whispered, his voice low and comforting. "I think we need to show Rosie how brave she is, don't you?"

You nodded, smiling back. Matty's hand reached over, gently tucking a stray lock of hair behind Rosie's ear.

"Why don't we do something, huh?" Matty said, his voice teasing but soft. "How about we make a special breakfast—maybe pancakes? You know, the ones with the big smiley faces, like the ones we made last week?"

Rosie's eyes flickered with interest. "The smiley pancakes?" she asked, her voice wavering but curious.

"Yeah, those," Matty grinned. "And after that, we can drop you off at play school together. Mummy and I will be right there, watching you be the star you are."

You could feel Rosie relaxing in Matty's arms, her body no longer as tense. She smiled a little, then yawned, still rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand.

"I guess I could go," she said softly, her little face lighting up with a tiny smile. "But... can we do the pancakes first?"

"Of course," you said, laughing softly. "How about this—after breakfast, we'll all go for a walk, and then you can show us all the new things you learned in play school. Deal?"

Rosie nodded eagerly, her earlier fear melting away. "Deal!"

Matty winked at you, his hand gently squeezing yours. You both knew that play school would be a bit of an adjustment for Rosie, but the moment you all shared this morning was one of those small, perfect reminders of how much love and warmth your little family had. Matty's mischievous grin and that sweet, familiar warmth he carried made everything feel like it would be alright.

As the three of you made your way downstairs to start breakfast, the nervousness in Rosie's eyes was already beginning to fade. Today would be a good day.

And maybe, just maybe, the pancakes really would help.

——————————————————————————

The smell of pancakes filled the kitchen, and Rosie had perked up considerably. She was now sitting at the kitchen table, her legs swinging excitedly beneath her, a half-eaten smiley face pancake on her plate. The soft clinking of cutlery and the hum of morning chatter surrounded you as you came down the stairs, dressed and ready to bring Rosie to school, as Matty flipped another pancake, humming one of his songs under his breath.

Rosie had been more quiet than usual, but it was clear her nerves were slowly slipping away. Every now and then, she would glance up at Matty, her little face lighting up with a mixture of awe and affection. You could see the shift happening in her—her earlier worries about play school starting to unravel.

Matty sat down beside her, placing a fresh plate of pancakes in front of her. "Alright, love, how are we feeling now?" he asked, ruffling her hair as he slid into the seat next to her.

Rosie poked at her pancakes for a moment before looking up at him, her big dark eyes meeting his. She bit her lip, thinking hard, then suddenly smiled and said, "Daddy..."

Matty looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "What is it, sweetheart?"

"You're my best friend," Rosie said, her voice full of sincerity. "You always make me feel better."

Matty's face softened, a warm smile spreading across his features as he blinked, clearly caught off guard. "I'm your best friend?" he asked, his voice a little softer than usual.

"Yeah," Rosie nodded vigorously, her curls bouncing with the movement. "You make me laugh, and you're always nice to me. And when I'm scared... you're there."

You watched the exchange, your heart swelling. Matty, of course, was completely smitten. There was something about being called best friend by your three-year-old daughter that was bound to melt anyone's heart. And for Matty, a man who often expressed himself through music and words, those simple but genuine words meant more than anything.

Matty leaned over and pulled Rosie into a big hug, squeezing her tightly. "Well, you're my best friend, too," he whispered into her hair, his voice thick with emotion. "Always."

Rosie hugged him back, squeezing her little arms around his neck. "So I don't have to be scared of play school anymore, right?"

Matty pulled away just enough to look her in the eyes, his fingers gently brushing a curl from her face. "Of course not. You've got your daddy and mummy, and we're always with you, okay? Even when you're at play school. You can think of us whenever you need us."

Rosie's eyes brightened, and she nodded enthusiastically. "Okay!" She gave her dad a big smile, and her whole demeanour seemed lighter. She then turned to you, her little hand reaching across the table to grab yours.

"Mummy, I think I'm ready," she said, her voice full of newfound confidence.

You smiled at her, squeezing her hand in return. "I think you are, love."

Matty looked at you with a proud grin, raising his eyebrows as if to say, See? She's ready. Then, leaning back in his chair, he chuckled softly. "Guess we've got a play school champion on our hands, huh?"

You laughed along with him. "Yeah, I think so. I'll bet she's going to have a blast today."

After a few more bites of pancakes, Rosie climbed down from her chair, still clutching her bunny, and headed toward the living room to gather her things for school, having gotten her dressed while Matty made the first place of pancakes, she was raring to go. Matty stood up to follow her, his hand resting on your shoulder as he leaned down and kissed your temple.

"She's amazing," he whispered, his voice low but full of affection. "She's so strong, and she doesn't even know it yet."

You nodded, leaning into him. "She's got you to thank for that, I think."

Matty smiled, his eyes softening. "Maybe. But she's her own person, too. She's got that fire in her that we don’t have."

You watched as Rosie, now a little more sure of herself, came back into the kitchen with her tiny backpack, her bunny tucked safely under one arm.

"I'm ready!" she announced proudly, her earlier hesitation completely gone.

Matty crouched down to her level, adjusting the straps of her backpack. "Alright, champ. You're going to have an amazing day. And when you get home, you can tell us all about it, yeah?"

Rosie nodded, her cheeks flushing with excitement. "Okay, Daddy! You and Mummy will be there to pick me up, right?"

"Of course," Matty said, his voice full of warmth. "We wouldn't miss it."

As you all walked to the door, Rosie gripping your hand with her tiny one, Matty gave her a quick kiss on the forehead. "Remember, you're my best friend, and you're gonna do great. I'm so proud of you."

Rosie beamed up at him, her little heart full of love and courage, and with one last wave goodbye, she was off to the car ahead of you—off to take on her day, her fears forgotten, and her confidence restored.

Matty watched her go for a moment, his expression filled with a mixture of pride and tenderness. You caught his gaze, your eyes meeting his with a quiet understanding.

"Best friends, huh?" you whispered with a smile.

He nodded, his hand sliding into yours before you and Rosie headed on the road. "Best friends. And she's the best thing that’s ever happened to me."

[wrestletotheground]

settle down - ross macdonald x reader

summary: you and ross are staying in your old house with your family for the weekend, but you find it hard to keep quiet when everyone's asleep...

wc: 1.9k

cw: 18+ minors dni!!! f!reader, angst, fluff, smut, dom!ross, 'good girl', fingering, gagging, slight degradation, choking kink, d word bc i can't help myself, spit, general filth tbh x

'i can't believe i'm actually about to sleep in the bed you grew up in,' ross says, shaking his head in disbelief as he pulls off his tshirt, climbing into bed beside you. 'I can't believe you've spent the day with my insane parents and are willing to stay here for two whole nights', you reply with a giggle.

your parents had been tormenting you to have him over for dinner ever since you moved in together a month ago, claiming you were both in need of a decent meal and a break from dirty dishes.

you'd finally agreed to go back and stay for the weekend. obviously ross got on well with your family as they'd met countless times before, but having him stay over, sleeping in your childhood room, feels daunting. as if it's the final layer he has to go through to know every part of you inside and out.

your parents are well asleep by now, having gone upstairs just before you and ross. with the emptiness in the living room, you'd straddled his lap, grinding into him softly as you littered kisses down his neck.

his heavy breathing was an indicator of how worked up he was getting, although it was less sexual and more passionate, a simple display of your love for each other. shortly after, you'd both gone up to get ready for bed, lovesick and giggly.

~

darkness floods the room with a click as you turn off the old pink lamp beside your bed.

'goodnight baby,' you say to ross as he presses a loving kiss to your temple. 'night sweetheart,' he murmurs, letting his hand fall down to your stomach as he settles his head into the pillow beside you. the warmth of his body is comforting and strong beside you, but your thoughts are elsewhere.

a wave of intense emotion starts to take over as you lie awake staring at the ceiling, your mind racing. the nostalgia of being in the room you grew up in is making your head flood with memories of long sleepless nights spent in this exact place. many a night were filled with tears and hopelessness, going through things no young girl should ever even have to think about. you're doing so much better now, having created a new life and a new home for yourself with your perfect fiancé. your eyes brim with fresh tears as you lie mourning the lost teenager that once sat here. you wish you could give her a hug and tell her that it truly does get better.

you take a deep breath to calm yourself, before shakily placing your hand over ross's, needing him close to you. the feeling of him beside you relaxes you, it always does. you can't help the flutter of arousal that runs through you at the pressure of his hand weighing down on your lower abdomen.

his eyes open suddenly, flicking up towards you. you didn't even think he was still awake with how sleepy he'd been only moments beforehand. you snap your eyes shut, as if that would trick him.

'baby, are you okay? what's wrong?' he asks sleepily. he props himself up on his elbow and brings a hand to your face to caress your cheek gently.

you turn to face him. 'yeah, I'm just- it's okay, don't worry, I'll be fine. just need you close to me'. 'darling, what's up? talk to me'. his voice is laced with concern and you silently curse his ability to read you like a book at all times.

'I was just.. thinking about how happy I am now, compared to how it was when I was younger. I used to think I was- I don't know, broken. but everything has gotten better since I met you, and not to be too sappy but I'm so glad I get to make happier memories here with the love of my life'.

'god you're making me emotional too, love,' he smiles and kisses you gently. 'I love you, and im so glad we found each other.' you look into his eyes adoringly and smile. 'i love you too', you reply.

you settle down into each other, ross lying on his side with his arm across you. the ache between your legs is still there, but you decide to close your eyes and try get some sleep.

until his hand begins to rub up and down your thigh, inching further and further up with each stroke before he rests it on your hip, fingertips rubbing in light circular motions dangerously close to where you need him.

you need him to fuck you so badly, but the risk of being heard is so high. you know you wouldn't be able to control yourself with the way you melt into him as he worships you.

'mmh ross, we can't, not here', you mumble, instinctively leaning into his touch despite your words. 'why not?' he asks, smirking up at you as he presses light kisses down your neck. 'i want to but my parents are next door, the walls in this house are like paper.'

he lifts his head up, the warmth of his breath tickling your ear. 'well you'll have to be quiet then won't you, love?' he whispers, dipping his hand under the waistband of your underwear. you exhale sharply as his fingers graze over your clit, instantly making you wet. 'fuck,' you breathe, squeezing your thighs in around his hand. 'ah ah, you're gonna take it like a good girl aren't you?' he says softly, grabbing your leg closest to him and pulling it up over his to give him more access.

you writhe under him as his two middle fingers continue to swipe lazily up and down, stopping suddenly. 'aren't you?' he says again, his eyes stern. 'yes- mmh- i'll be good,' you whimper desperately, earning a grunt of approval. 'there we go, relax darling, let me look after you', he replies.

the endless band posters and picture frames that cover the walls seem to be watching on in silent judgement, making you hyper aware of where you are. to be honest, the immorality and risk of it all is just making you more turned on, more desperate for him than ever.

he traces your soaked entrance teasingly before slipping his middle finger in to the knuckle, making you gasp, your back arching into him. 'shh, you said you'd be good,' he mutters, curling his finger inside you and stroking upwards. your eyes roll into your head at the heavenly sensation.

he doesn't waste time before adding another and you can't help the sound that spills from your throat, louder than you expected. he stills inside you, your slick dripping down his fingers. your heart pounds in your chest as you meet his eyes, looking down at you with a heavy gaze.

'if you're not quiet I'll give you something to whine about and we don't want that do we?' he's practically growling at you, making you like putty in his hands. 'n-no, please, daddy' you whine under your breath. the magic word. his breath hitches and his eyes roll back into his head. 'fuck, there's my girl', he whispers, his eyes snapping back to yours instantly.

with that, he starts moving in and out, dipping his fingers in as deep as they can go and drawing them back again in quick, fluid motions. obscene sounds break the silence of the room, barely noticeable above the haze of pleasure taking over your body.

your walls pulse around him, enhancing the feeling even more. he throws his right leg up over yours, holding your legs open for him. he curls his fingers inside you, using his thumb at the same time to press into your clit, hard. you have to hold your breath to suppress the scream that's lingering in the back of your throat, coming out in a pathetic barely audible whimper as you exhale.

his other hand creeps around the back of your head, never slowing his rhythm between your thighs. he reaches your mouth and covers it tightly with his whole palm, muffling any more noises you would've let out. suddenly he shoves three digits into your mouth, making you gag as they hit the back of your throat. you close your lips around them and start sucking, swirling your tongue around and coating him in spit, never breaking eye contact. he groans softly, flashbacks filling his mind of how your mouth feels around his cock.

your mouth hangs open as he hits the deep part inside you and your eyebrows furrow, hips bucking into his hand in time with his movements. he's fucking you hard and fast, pinning you to the mattress.

'ross, I can't - mfh- fuck, i'm -' you start, although it comes out muffled and strained around his fingers that are still deep in your mouth. the vibration of your voice goes straight through his hand, the sensation making him feral.

'one more fucking word from you and you're never going to finish do you hear me?' he whispers aggressively, eyes stern. you nod your head in silent response, eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

he takes his fingers out of your mouth, dragging his soaked hand down to your neck and presses in on either side just below your jaw, all the while his fingers are working you to your core. you bite your lip as you gaze up at him, completely at his mercy and loving every second of it.

he reaches a particularly deep spot inside you that makes your stomach coil. your head is spinning, face scrunched up in excruciating pleasure, on the brink of the peak you've been desperately chasing as his strokes get quicker and more precise.

'please...' it's barely a whisper, more of a breathy plea for him to let you come. 'let go. let me fucking feel you all over me. pretty. little. slut.' each word is punctuated by a hard thrust into you, the final one sending you over the edge.

your vision turns to white and you clasp a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from screaming, your hips rolling into his hand as you ride out your high. his hand that's now drenched, warm honey dripping down onto his palm.

you exhale sharply as he pulls his fingers out, bringing them up in front of you and spreading the two middle ones that were curling inside you moments ago. a wet string of your arousal connects them at the knuckle and you watch him dazedly. he drags them almost reluctantly towards his mouth, as if he didn't want to stop looking, and runs his tongue up the wide v shape, collecting your juices into his mouth.

it's a filthy sight that leaves you awestruck. he smirks at you as you lie gazing at him, being broken out of your lustful trance when he leans in to kiss you. as soon as your lips part his mouth is hovering above yours as he taps your jaw lightly. you open your mouth wider and he takes his chance to slowly spit into your mouth. the taste of the two of you is warm and feral and addictive.

he whispers again, breath ghosting over your lips. 'good girl'. you're too flustered to respond with words, so you slide your hand up around the back of his neck and pull him into another kiss. tongues moving languidly against each other. it's loving and soft, a stark contrast to what he was like moments ago, but you wouldn't have it any other way.

~

[whimsicalpolitical]

i feel like you would write such a good moment of matty treating y/n like she’s dumb but in that condescending teasing way where he’s almost amused ya know? like mockingly pouting back at her when she whines 🤭🤭

thanks so much! 18+ mdni, thigh riding because i loveee

it started at dinner.

you knew you were fucked the second he stepped out of the bedroom. his hair still damp from the shower, a cigarette pinched between his teeth, fitted black trousers and a soft blue polo that clung in all the right places. he hadn’t even done the top button. just left it loose like he didn’t know what that would do to you.

he looked dangerous. smug and golden under the restaurant lights, rings catching on his glass of wine, eyes flicking to yours every time you shifted in your seat. his hand was on your thigh almost as soon as you sat down, warm and heavy under the tablecloth, sliding higher every time you spoke. he had the whole night to watch you squirm.

“you need to behave,” he murmured at one point, voice low enough that only you could hear it, thumb pressing just inside your inner thigh.

your legs were shaking and your panties were embarrassingly soaked and you’d stopped listening to anything the table was talking about.

matty had just smirked, leaned in close to kiss your cheek like he hadn’t just dragged his thumb across the dampest part of your knickers. “pathetic.”

—

and now you’re here.

straddling his thigh in the soft flicker of the living room lamp, skirt bunched around your waist, hands braced on his shoulders. he hasn’t touched you since you got home. not really. just sat down, legs spread, and nodded toward his thigh like it was a throne.

“as needy as you were, you only deserve this,” he’d said, lighting up a cigarette with the same casual air he wore at dinner. “if you’re good, i’ll think about fucking you.”

that was- god, that was ages ago now.

you’ve been grinding slow and steady, chasing it with every shaky roll of your hips. the friction of his trousers is maddening, firm beneath your soaked panties, and every time your clit brushes just right, you gasp like it’s the first time. but you still haven’t tipped over. still clenching and whining and panting through your teeth.

“not very efficient, are you?” he drawls, lips twitching into something cruel and fond as he takes another drag. “been at it how long now?”

you whimper, pressing down harder. “matty.”

he pouts at you. mocking. soft little frown like he’s devastated on your behalf. “what is it, darling? can’t get off without me?”

you shake your head, frustrated tears pricking at your eyes. “i can, it’s just- ugh.”

“i disagree with you. i think i spoil you too much.” his free hand lifts, lazy fingers brushing your flushed cheek. “i always give you what you want. always get you off and now you can’t do it yourself.”

your body jolts again, hips stuttering as you find a better angle- just right, almost perfect. it drags a breathy gasp from your throat and matty grins, all teeth and heat. he leans in closer, cigarette hovering behind your back now.

“there you go. clever girl. took you long enough.”

you can’t answer. you’re already too far gone. hips rolling fast now, small broken moans spilling out between your lips as you grind down hard, thighs trembling.

his voice is a quiet hum beneath you, “making such a mess on my trousers now, look at you.”

but it slips. it slips. just as your muscles start to seize, just as your breath catches in that perfect little inhale, it fades like smoke, like it was never really there. and you let out a noise that’s all frustration and disbelief, dropping your forehead to his shoulder.

“no, no no no-“

matty laughs.

you want to cry.

“oh, baby,” he coos, pulling back to look at you. “you really are pathetic tonight.”

“shut up,” you hiccup, still trying, still grinding, even though your rhythm’s broken now. messy and too fast. it’s not working. it’s never going to work.

“s’not very nice, that.” he blows smoke over your shoulder, tuts softly. “m’bein’ generous. lettin’ you use me like this. and all i get in return is whining?”

you make another little sound, high and broken. he hasn’t touched you properly in hours and you’re aching with it. cunt fluttering uselessly against his thigh, thighs shaking, eyes wet.

matty leans in close, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. “gonna cry ‘cos you can’t come, darling? is that where we’re at?”

you nod. miserably.

he hums, hands finally finding your hips, holding you down firm as he shifts his leg just a little. enough to make you feel it again.

“tell me what you need.”

“you,” you gasp, falling forward, nose brushing the curve of his throat. “need you, matty, please, i can’t do it without you-“

“no, you can’t,” he says, “s’what i’ve been saying, love.“

you’re still panting against his throat, hips twitching like your body doesn’t know whether to keep going or give up entirely. your lip’s still caught between your teeth trembling now and matty’s got this look in his eye that makes your belly flip.

“please,” you whisper, barely there. “matty, please-“

he hums. not in a way that promises relief, but more like he’s mulling it over. maybe.

“please what, darling?” his thumb traces circles into your hipbone. “what exactly is it you want me to do?”

you whine. slump forward. it’s humiliating how little pride you’ve got left. “help me- just help me, i, please,” you huff the last beg.

matty clicks his tongue softly, and his hands tighten. one at your waist, the other sliding lower, slow and deliberate, fingers pressing into the crease of your thigh. “i’ll help you, then,” he says, “but you are gonna finish what you started.”

and then he shifts his leg, presses you down hard, not enough to hurt, just enough to feel, deep and blunt and perfect. you gasp out loud, hips jerking, the shock of it so good it almost knocks the breath from your lungs.

“there you go,” matty murmurs, lips dragging slow along your jaw as his hands guide you. “just like that. see? not so hard, is it?”

he’s barely moving you, really. just small pushes, coaxing your hips into that same rhythm again. but it’s enough. it’s better than enough. your thighs are shaking already and it’s barely been a minute.

you moan and his smile turns sharp against your cheek.

“keep goin’,” he says, and then his hands fall away.

just like that.

gone.

your body stutters. almost freezes up. like you don’t know how to move without him holding you there. but he doesn’t correct it, doesn’t reach back for you, just leans back into the couch, one arm thrown over the backrest like he’s settling in for a film.

“c’mon, love,” he tuts, watching you with a lazy grin. “don’t give up now.”

you try. you do. force your hips to keep rolling, fists curled in the fabric of his shirt. but it’s not right anymore. you can feel it slipping again, the angle too shallow, the pace off, the ache building without relief.

matty doesn’t miss a thing.

his eyes flicker down to your mouth, and then his thumb is brushing over your bottom lip.

“you’re so cute, baby,” he murmurs, half-laughing. “i absolutely ruined you.”

your breath hitches. you press your cheek into his palm.

“can’t just give you what you want though, can i?” he goes on, “cos that would prove my point.”

“i don’t fucking care about your point,” you snap or try to, but your voice cracks halfway through and it comes out choked. “just- please, please-”

matty laughs. full-body, delighted. you hate him.

“god, i love you like this,” he says, “you sound wrecked. so desperate to come.”

you glare at him, eyes glossy. your thighs are trembling from holding yourself up, and you don’t think you can take much more of the teasing. every nerve in your body is on fire, too close to the edge to even think straight.

matty sees it and finally, finally, he leans forward again.

his hand cups the back of your neck, fingers slipping into your hair as he pulls you in close. “alright,” he whispers, brushing his lips over your ear. “i’ve got you.”

and then his thigh shifts again, a sharp, perfect nudge, and his other hand finds your hips, pulling you down just right. you sob.

“there she is,” he breathes. “good girl. go on. take what you need.”

your hips fall back into it like they never stopped, rutting fast now, sloppier by the second. you’re so close it hurts, moaning into his throat, chasing every inch of pressure.

“fuck, fuck- matty, i’m-”

“you’re so easy. really? that’s all it takes for you?,” he murmurs, stroking down your spine, voice so low it’s almost a growl. “come on my thigh then. make a fucking scene about it.”

you do.

you come with a gasp that rips out of your chest, full-body and overwhelming, shaking and twitching through it while matty holds you down firm, coaxing every last pulse out of you.

when it’s over, you collapse in his lap like you’ve got nothing left. head on his shoulder, lips parted, body limp.

he kisses your temple, smiling.

“there we are,” he says. “finally stopped whining.”

[cryiingoutloud]

☽〝 God has entered my body — matty healy!reader.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

You weren’t supposed to end up alone with Matty Healy in a church-turned-recording-studio, especially not late at night. Especially not wrapped in his hoodie with his breath on your neck.

But there’s a confessional booth in the corner. And he wants to know what you’d say inside it.

What you’ve thought about.

What you’d let him do.

And once you start confessing—he won’t stop until he’s on his knees, dragging every filthy, aching, perfect sound out of you.

This isn’t forgiveness.

It’s worship.

warnings: NSFW / 18+ only. submissive reader. dominant matty. oral (f. receiving). finger fucking. confessional booth smut (yes, really). voice kink. degradation&praise. religious imagery kink. power play. consent-focused but dark-edged. filthy as hell (literally).

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

It was colder than you expected.

Even inside, the air still clung to the bones of the old church. The kind of chill that slipped into your sleeves and made your skin prickle. You rubbed your arms as you walked through the main hall, boots echoing against the cracked stone floor.

This was where he made music now.

A hundred years ago, this was where people knelt and whispered prayers. Now the pews were shoved aside to make room for cables, guitars, ashtrays, and a tangled nest of sound equipment. Candles burned low in stained glass sconces. A half-empty bottle of red sat next to an ancient Bible, warped and dust-covered.

The only thing that hadn’t changed? The confessional booth in the far corner. Still intact. Still ominous.

It was beautiful, in a strange way. Sacred and desecrated all at once.

You dropped your bag beside a couch and sat, sinking into it like you hadn’t slept in days.

Matty was somewhere in the back. You heard music faintly playing—a loop of something half-finished. Low drums, ambient noise, a few clipped guitar chords. It sounded like him: moody, hungry, and a little fucked up.

You weren’t strangers. Not exactly.

You’d met through mutual friends last year at a party in London. There’d been alcohol. Banter. A cigarette passed between your lips and his. He’d said something smart and cruel and made you laugh so hard you spilled wine on your shirt. He never apologized for staring.

Since then, it had been the occasional dms, a drunken call at 1am you ignored, a photo he reacted to with just the eye emoji. A few missed connections. A few near-kisses.

And now, this.

Jamie had said you could stay at the studio for a few nights while you figured out your next move. You hadn’t realized Matty would be the only one here. That the “studio” was this fucking place. That he’d look like that when he opened the door—shirtless, dazed, voice thick from whiskey and sleeplessness.

You hadn’t said much.

Neither had he.

But the way his eyes had flicked down your body like a slow lick told you everything you needed to know.

Now, hours later, the music stopped.

You looked toward the hallway.

Footsteps.

Then he appeared.

Leaning in the archway, cigarette hanging from his lips, curls messy, hoodie zipped halfway down over his bare chest.

“You comfortable?” he asked.

You nodded. “Kinda freezing.”

He grinned, stepped forward, and tossed a blanket at you. “It’s a church. Cold as God’s cunt.”

You snorted. “You’re disgusting.”

“I know.” He sat beside you, not touching, but close. “You staying up?”

You shrugged. “Wasn’t planning on it.”

He looked at you for a long moment. Then: “Want a drink?”

You hesitated. “One.”

The wine was cheap and lukewarm, poured into mismatched mugs. He didn’t offer a glass, and you didn’t ask for one.

You sat cross-legged on the old couch, swaddled in a blanket that smelled faintly like him—tobacco, cedar, something darker. Matty lounged beside you, one arm hooked lazily over the backrest, fingers tapping absently against the upholstery like he was counting seconds.

The church hummed with silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Just charged.

“So,” he said, lighting another cigarette. “Why’d you really come?”

You looked at him over your mug. “Jamie said I could crash here.”

“Yeah, but you could’ve picked his place. Or any of the others. You picked mine.”

You shrugged. “It’s not like that.”

He gave you a long look. “Isn’t it?”

You took a sip, let the wine coat your tongue before swallowing. “Are you always this suspicious?”

“Only when I want to fuck someone.”

You almost choked.

He didn’t laugh. He just smirked, slow and dangerous, eyes still on you like he was waiting for something. A flinch. A retreat. But you held your ground.

“Then you’re either paranoid,” you said, “or projecting.”

“Oh, I’m definitely projecting.” He leaned in just slightly, voice dropping. “Don’t worry. I won’t touch you. Not unless you ask me to.”

There it was. The line.

Not crossed. Just drawn. Daring you to step over.

You shifted under the blanket. Your skin felt tight, flushed. He hadn’t even moved, and you were already thinking about his hands. His mouth. What he’d do if you asked him.

You didn’t say anything.

He let the silence stretch, like he liked the tension.

“You cold?” he asked eventually, softer.

You nodded.

“Come here, then.”

You looked at him.

He patted the space between his legs. “Just for warmth. Promise.”

You stared.

Then moved.

You settled with your back against his chest, blanket still around you both, the heat of his body immediate and dizzying. His thighs bracketed yours. His arms didn’t wrap around you—but they almost did. You could feel the ghost of a touch, just there, just waiting.

“Better?” he murmured near your ear.

You nodded.

“Good girl.”

The words sent a shock through you. You didn’t respond. Couldn’t. He didn’t say anything else either, just exhaled slowly, letting the moment sit.

The candles flickered. Somewhere, a pipe groaned in the walls. You heard the faint click of his lighter as he lit another cigarette and breathed in deep.

Then—

“Can I ask you something?” His voice was low, casual, like he was asking what time it was.

“Yeah.”

“You ever think about fucking in a church?”

Your breath caught.

You felt him smile against the back of your neck.

“No judgment,” he said. “Just curious.”

“Why would you ask that?”

“Because you looked at that confessional booth like it owed you something.” He paused. “And because you’re letting me hold you like this, and your pulse is going nuts.”

You didn’t answer.

He let the silence hang, then added, “I think about it sometimes.”

You swallowed hard. “Yeah?”

He nodded against your shoulder. “Yeah. Not in the ‘naughty Catholic schoolgirl’ way. More like… I dunno. The idea of someone being that turned on in a place like this. Whispering filth where people used to pray. Makes you wonder what gets people off, doesn’t it?”

You shifted in his lap. He noticed.

“You’re wet, aren’t you?” he said, voice velvet-soft.

Your cheeks burned. “Matty—”

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “It’s just us. No one’s listening. Not even Him.”

You should’ve pulled away.

Instead, you let your head fall back against his shoulder.

His hand came up slowly, fingertips brushing your jaw. Just that—soft, featherlight—but it made you shiver.

“Tell me something,” he said. “Something no one else knows.”

You bit your lip.

“I…” Your voice was barely audible. “I touch myself to things I’d never admit.”

He stilled behind you.

“Go on.”

You shut your eyes. “Sometimes… I think about being told what to do. Made to do things I shouldn’t want.”

He was quiet for a beat.

Then: “What kind of things?”

You shook your head. “Doesn’t matter.”

“It does,” he said, firmer now. “Say it.”

You hesitated.

“I think about being watched. Told to strip. Told to beg.” You exhaled. “Sometimes I think about being in a place like this. On my knees. Told to confess everything.”

You felt his cock twitch behind you. Hard. Real.

He let out a shaky laugh. “You’re fucking killing me.”

You turned your head slightly, looked at him over your shoulder.

His eyes were dark. Blown.

“I want to show you something,” he said.

He didn’t wait for your reply.

He stood, took your hand, and led you across the cold stone floor—barefoot, in his hoodie and joggers, candlelight dancing across his face—toward the confessional booth.

He opened the door and stepped inside.

Then looked back at you.

“Come on, sweetheart.”

Your heart hammered.

You stepped in.

The door creaked shut behind you.

The wood creaked beneath you as you sat, the small bench barely wide enough to hold your thighs. It was tight in the booth. Close. Lit only by the flickering glow of candles outside, leaking through the cracks.

Matty shut his side of the booth gently.

You couldn’t see him—just a silhouette through the tiny screen between you. But you could hear him. Breathing slow. Steady.

“You okay?” he asked, softly.

You nodded. Then remembered he couldn’t see you. “Yeah.”

“You sure? You can leave anytime. Just say the word.”

You swallowed. “I don’t want to leave.”

“Good.” His voice deepened, a slow shift. “Then we’re not playing anymore.”

You froze.

“Say it,” he murmured. “Say we’re not playing.”

“We’re not playing.”

“Atta girl.”

Silence again. Except for your pulse, thudding in your ears.

“Do you know what this booth is for?” he asked, slow and smooth.

You nodded again. “Confession.”

“Exactly. You come in here to admit what you’ve done. And what you want to do.” A pause. “So let’s start there.”

You licked your lips. “Start where?”

“What do you want, sweetheart?”

You hesitated.

“Tell the truth,” he said, softer now. “That’s what this is for.”

You exhaled shakily. “I want you.”

A quiet chuckle behind the screen. “Yeah? You’ve got me.”

“No,” you said. “I want you to tell me what to do. I want to not have to think. I want to be told where to put my hands. When to open my legs. When to come.”

A sharp inhale from his side. “Jesus Christ.”

“I want you to use me,” you whispered. “Just for a little while.”

The silence stretched.

Then, softly: “Take off your panties.”

Your breath caught.

“Right now. In the booth. And don’t make me say it again.”

You moved slowly, hands trembling as you reached beneath the hem of your dress, fingers curling around the waistband. You slid them down, legs shifting, panties dragging over your thighs, your calves, until they dropped to the floor in a soft heap.

Matty exhaled hard.

“Are you bare now?”

“Yes.”

“Open your legs.”

You hesitated.

He didn’t.

“Wider.”

You obeyed.

“Fuck.” His voice was barely more than a breath now. “You wet already?”

“…Yes.”

“Show me.”

You paused. “I—what?”

“Put two fingers in,” he said. “Let me hear it.”

Your hand trembled as you slid it between your thighs. The moment your fingers touched your cunt, you gasped—soaked. Your fingers slipped in easily, wet and hot.

You let out a soft whimper.

“Atta girl. Just like that.”

You could hear him shifting on his side, the sound of his breath getting faster. The edge in his voice sharpened.

“Now rub that messy little clit for me. Slowly. I want to hear how desperate you are.”

You obeyed, hips twitching as your fingers circled your clit in tight, slow spirals. The pressure was unbearable, the tension from earlier tightening into something sharp, something electric.

“You ever fucked yourself in a confessional before?”

“No,” you breathed.

“You ever shown anyone how you come?”

You moaned softly. “No.”

“Good,” he said, voice turning darker. “I want to ruin it for everyone else. I want to be the only one who knows what you look like when you’re about to fall apart.”

You were panting now. Heat building. Muscles twitching.

“Faster,” he said. “Sloppier. Don’t be polite about it. I want you to fuck yourself like you’re ashamed of how bad you need it.”

You did.

You rubbed faster, breathless, hips rolling against your own hand like you were chasing something violent. Something sinful. You felt dirty. Wrong. Perfect.

“Are you close, baby?”

“Yes—please—”

“Not yet,” he snapped. “Take your hand off.”

You let out a broken cry. “No—please, Matty—please—”

“I said off. Now.”

You pulled your fingers away, thighs shaking, cunt pulsing around nothing.

“You listen so fucking well,” he murmured. “God, I love how obedient you get when you’re this wet.”

You whimpered.

“Open the door.”

You blinked. “What?”

“Open. My. Door.”

Your hand moved without thinking, reaching for the latch on his side. It creaked open—and he was already on his knees in front of you.

Dark curls messy. Mouth parted. Eyes wild.

“You did so good, sweetheart,” he whispered. “Now let me give you what you deserve.”

He leaned in.

You gasped as his mouth met your thigh, soft and wet, tongue dragging up slowly.

Then higher.

Then home.

Matty didn’t start with your cunt.

That would’ve been too easy.

He kissed the inside of your thigh like it was holy, like he was memorizing it. Lips dragging along your skin, breath hot and uneven. His hands gripped your knees and pushed them further apart, spreading you wide like a fucking offering.

And he looked.

Really looked.

“Fuck me,” he breathed. “You’re soaked. It’s dripping, sweetheart.”

You squirmed under his stare, but his grip tightened.

“No. You stay open for me. Let me see what a filthy little thing you really are.”

He moved in slowly, lips so close to your cunt you could feel the heat of his breath, but he still didn’t touch you where you needed him.

“You teased yourself so pretty in there,” he murmured, licking his lips. “All pink and swollen. Just aching for it.”

“Please, Matty…”

He smirked.

“‘Please,’” he mocked, dragging a knuckle up your slit—barely grazing—just enough to make you twitch. “You think begging’s gonna make me merciful?”

You whimpered. “No—”

“Good. Because I’m not.”

And then his mouth was on you.

No slow build-up. No testing the waters. Just devouring.

His tongue flattened against your clit, hot and slick, then circled it in tight, maddening spirals. He moaned into you like he was fucking starving, like the taste of your pussy was better than any high he’d ever had—and he’d had plenty.

You cried out, hips jerking, but he grabbed them, slammed them back down against the bench, and growled, “Don’t fucking move. You take it.”

You obeyed, panting, legs trembling around his shoulders.

“That’s it,” he muttered between licks. “Be a good little mess for me.”

His fingers slid up your slit, teasing your entrance, and you clenched down empty, desperate for him.

“God, you’re tight,” he hissed. “Bet you’d choke on my fucking fingers.”

You couldn’t speak. Could barely breathe.

He pushed one in.

Then two.

They slid in easy—your cunt so wet, so desperate, that it welcomed him with a filthy squelch. He groaned.

“Listen to that,” he said, fucking you with slow, deep strokes. “You hear how wet you are? How your pussy’s singing for me?”

You were already close.

The pressure was unbearable—his mouth sucking your clit, tongue flicking just right, fingers curling inside you like he was tuning you to the perfect frequency.

“Matty—fuck—please, I’m gonna—”

“No, you’re not.”

He pulled back.

You sobbed, cunt clenching around nothing, thighs shaking.

“Why—why—”

“Because I said so.”

He looked up at you, mouth and chin slick with your mess. He licked his lips slow, eyes locked on yours.

“You don’t come until I say. You want to be a good girl for me, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you whimpered.

“Then earn it.”

He dove back in.

This time was worse. Better. Brutal.

He fucked you with his fingers hard and fast now, angling just right, mouth latching onto your clit and sucking—sloppy, obscene, relentless. You were gasping, twitching, clawing at the sides of the booth, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes.

“You gonna fall apart for me?” he growled, voice vibrating through your cunt.

“Yes—yes, please, Matty, please—”

“Then fucking do it.”

And you did.

You came with a scream, body locking up, muscles convulsing as pleasure ripped through you. It was violent. Messy. Your cunt gushed around his fingers, your thighs trembled against his head, your voice broke into something raw and high and real.

He didn’t stop.

He licked you through it, groaning like he couldn’t get enough. His fingers fucked you through every aftershock, wet and filthy and perfect.

When he finally pulled back, his face was wrecked—mouth red and glistening, hair sticking to his forehead, eyes blown wide.

He looked at you like you were fucking sacred.

“You just came like it was your first time,” he said, voice hoarse.

You couldn’t speak.

“Let me tell you something,” he added, crawling up between your legs, face inches from yours. “I’ve played a lot of dirty games in my life.”

He kissed the side of your mouth.

“But that?”

He kissed your jaw.

“That was fucking divine.”

Your legs were still open.

Panties forgotten on the floor. Dress rucked up to your waist. Breathing ragged.

Matty didn’t move at first. Just rested his head on your thigh, arms draped over your hips, face still pressed close to the mess he made. Like he was claiming it. Or catching his breath. Or maybe both.

You ran your fingers slowly through his curls, still dazed. “Jesus Christ.”

He laughed. Low and hoarse. “He wasn’t invited.”

You huffed a shaky laugh, your head falling back against the wooden panel behind you. The booth creaked under both your weights, like it might give out at any second. Fitting, really.

Matty finally looked up.

His mouth was wet. His cheeks flushed. But his eyes—those fucking eyes—were soft. Something unreadable curling in them.

“Come here,” he said, voice rough around the edges.

You blinked. “What?”

“Let me hold you for a second. Don’t make it weird.”

You didn’t argue.

You slid off the bench, your legs jelly, your body still twitching with aftershocks. He caught you easily, helped you down, guided you into his lap with an ease that made your throat tighten. Like he’d done this before. Like he knew what to do with you.

You curled into his chest, and he wrapped his arms around you, one hand rubbing your spine in lazy circles. For a long time, neither of you spoke.

Your breath synced up slowly. His heartbeat thudded under your cheek.

“You okay?” he asked, voice softer now.

You nodded. “Yeah.”

“Did I push too far?”

You looked up at him. “No. You… you asked.”

“I did.” He smiled a little, but there was something behind it—something unsure. “Just making sure.”

You paused. “Why’d you stop me the first time?”

He raised a brow.

“In the booth. When I was close. You said no.”

Matty exhaled, looking at the stained-glass window across the room. “Because I wanted to take it from you myself. Not let you give it to your fingers. That make sense?”

You nodded, a slow flush spreading in your chest.

He looked back at you. “I wanted to ruin it my way.”

You smiled. “Mission accomplished.”

He laughed, bright and boyish. Then leaned in and kissed you. Slow. Deep. Tasting of you and smoke and wine. It wasn’t filthy. It wasn’t rushed. It was just… real.

When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours. “You’re dangerous, you know.”

“You’re the one who dragged me into a confessional.”

“And you followed.”

You grinned. “Like a lamb to slaughter.”

He raised a brow. “You don’t look very slaughtered. You look smug.”

“I look satisfied.”

He laughed again. “Same thing.”

The candlelight flickered. Somewhere in the building, the ancient pipes groaned again. You sat there, tangled up with him on the cold stone floor of an abandoned church-turned-studio, bare and spent and weightless.

Eventually, he said, “Stay the night.”

You looked at him.

He shrugged. “Don’t read into it. Just stay. Warm bed, clean sheets. Minimal sin.”

You smirked. “Minimal?”

“Well.” He leaned in again, nipped at your bottom lip. “Depends if you’re still wet in the morning.”

You rolled your eyes, cheeks flushing. “You’re awful.”

“I know,” he murmured. “And you fucking love it.”

[ro-writesstuff]

decisions, decisions - matty healy

a/n: i love the concept of married!matty au PLEASE send ideas if you have them 🙏🏼happy reading loves 🩷

summary: on the third day of your honeymoon, you and matty try to figure out what you want to do.

content warning: mentions of smut, cursing, some fluff

minors do not interact, all fics are 18+.

***

the sun peeks through the curtains of your hotel room as you turn your head to look at the time. 10:47.

matty had been awake for about thirty minutes, taking in your sleeping figure. although he was an early riser, the tiring yet exciting events from the past few days were catching up to him. needless to say, he was happy you were stirring awake now.

you stretched your body outwardly as you turn your body to him, a smile appearing on Matty’s face as you pull yourself closer to him as a content sigh leaves your lips. birds chirp outside, and matty can’t think enough how lucky he is. he tucks a few strands of hair behind your ear, wanting to see your beautiful face.

you almost giggle at the contact. “good morning my handsome husband.”

he smiles, placing a quick kiss on your forehead, then tilts your chin upwards at him, his brown eyes full of love and desire as he plants a sweet kiss on your lips.

“mornin’ my gorgeous wife.”

he never fails at causing butterflies in your stomach.

you take a breath, trying to rid of that giddy feeling in your stomach. “so what are we going to do today?” you ask.

matty decides to be cheeky.

he slides his arms between your back and the mattress his figure now on top of you. your legs cage his body on either side as your admire and trace over his prominent back muscles.

“oh i thought we already decided,” he says with an undertone of playfulness.

you give him a confused look.

“thought we were staying in and having sex all day.” he states with a sly smile.

you laugh at his words. “matty, we-”

he cuts you off by cupping your breast as you let out a soft whimper. his fingers hook onto your underwear as you lift your hips, the material sliding off you and being thrown across the room. matty’s lips travel down, down, down as you start to feel a pulsing in your lower stomach.

his breath is hot against your skin as you try to squirm away from him, but his strong grip holds your hips down.

“could be fun,” his eyes peel away from your skin and stare intensely at yours, “mrs. healy.”

your new name same sends a spark of excitement down your spine as you smile. you become entranced by his movements, unable to look away. he places kisses on the inside of your thighs, lips hover over where you need him most.

his lips plant itself to the inside of your knee, fingers teasing the outside of your dripping cunt, “your call, gorgeous.”

you sigh, glancing outside looking at the sun that was getting closed in my a set of clouds. the weather was starting to become dreary and maybe he was right: it was best to stay inside.

“fine.”

“knew you’d cave,” he says as he hooks your legs around his shoulders. “can’t resist me,” he says with a wink.

“shut up healy.”

[emeraldgreaves]

lost in translation

....And last but not least of our contingent arriving from abroad: eagle-eyed members of the ton may have spotted the shock of red hair descending the gangplank of the Jizania Tiger that marks its owner as an Antiqua. It seems the promise of a new season draws us back from even the most far-flung corners of the world. This author would never dream of missing it. May springtime arrive quickly, dear reader. I for one am impatient to see what blooms. As ever, I remain your faithful LADY KEYKEEPER

a Shepherds of Haven Bridgerton AU. In which Red comes home for the season and meets several familiar faces.

[Read on AO3]

[ecemf]

The Interview — Matty Healy

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

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

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

WC: ~3k

Ok I hope y'all like it ENJOY!!

The Interview.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was going to be a long night.

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---------

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

[trumanbluee]

if its not with you - matty healy

minors dni !! this is 17+ nsfw material !!

please reblog if you like it! ᡣ𐭩

content: matty's away on tour, and you miss each other dearly

word count: 1.7k

warnings: phone sex! established relationship, afab oc, lmk if i missed anything! xx

a/n: hi!!!! im so sorry i havent been active at all recently i've been super busy with schoolwork, here's part one of a two part thing i wrote a little while ago !!! love u <3333

She stirred as she felt her phone vibrate on the bed beside her. Eyes still shut, sleep glueing them together, she blindly felt around the bed for it, gripping it with her freshly manicured hand once she’d found it. 

Opening her eyes, she screwed her eyebrows together at the brightness of the screen, before the furrow quickly dissipated when she saw who’d disturbed her nap. Matty ❤️ was sprawled out on the top of her screen in bright white, and behind it a picture of her kissing him on the cheek, taken on their first date. Sitting up in the bed, she didn’t hesitate to accept the call. 

Instantly, she heard a tired, “Hey baby,” ring out from the other side of the phone. She smiled as she pictured him in bed, rubbing his eye sleepily as he held his phone to his ear. 

“Hi Matty,” she whispered through the phone, positioning her pillows at the head of her bed so she could sit back. “Did you just get back to your hotel?” 

“Yeah,” she heard a soft exhale followed by a sharp intake of breath. “Long day.” 

Her heart sank at the exhaustion that was so evident in his voice, and she just wished she was there with him. 

He’d been touring for 6 months now, and had been away for far too long. She missed him dearly, and these phone calls, that lasted no longer than 10-15 minutes at best, simply weren’t enough. 

She huffed, repositioning herself against her pillows before placing her phone back to her ear, “I’m sorry baby, I know you said you’d call but we don’t have to if you’re too tired. Just want you to take care of yourself, Matty.” 

She heard him shuffling against his sheets, and hoped he was getting comfortable in order to fall asleep. She loved the calls where he’d fall asleep on facetime whilst she worked, her camera roll full of screenshots he didn’t know she had, of his soft, relaxed face. 

He tutted, “Never, baby. Always wanna hear your voice after a long day. Just wish you were here instead of me havin’ to call ‘ya.”

She sighed, “I know babe, I miss you so much. When are you coming home again?” she asked, sure of the answer but wanting to hear the excitement in his tone as he said it.

“Three weeks, honey. Three weeks and then I’m never leavin’ you again.”

She laughed softly, “Yeah, I’m sure Jamie, the fans and the lads’d be happy to hear that. I can see the headlines now, ‘The 1975 breaks up because Matty refuses to ever leave his girlfriend again.’

She hears him chuckle down the phone, low and gruff, obviously strained and exhausted from the long day of rehearsals and performing. 

“I just hope that picture I sent you’s enough to tide you over for another three weeks, hon.” She said cheekily, tracing a finger up the exposed skin of her thigh, where her shorts had ridden up. 

She heard his breathe hitch slightly, and she imagined all the nights when he’d really missed her, where he’d pulled that picture up, probably saved in his ‘Baby ❤️’ album knowing him, and, laying amongst the soft white of the hotel bedding, shoved his hand into his boxers and tugged at his throbbing cock needily, until he came all over his hand. The thought made her ache, and she felt heat pooling between her thighs. 

He laughed softly, “Yeah baby, it’s been getting me through the nights. You look so sexy honey, all dressed up in pretty lingerie for me.”

She whined softly, “Fuck, miss you, Matty. S’not the same without you here.”

“S’not the same? How’s it not the same, baby?” He asked cockily, knowing in which direction she was trying to steer the conversation. 

She huffed, “Y’know what I mean.” 

He laughed softly, repositioning himself to lie further down the bed. “Humour me babe, tell me what’s not the same.” 

Having discarded her pyjama shorts, she lay with her head on the pillows, tracing lazy patterns along the soft skin of her thighs and stomach. “Fingers can’t reach all the spots you do, Matty. Need you here to help.” 

He tutted in faux sadness, “Oh my poor baby, let me see if I can help you now, huh? Why don’t you lie down on the bed and spread your legs for me, sweetheart.”

She obeyed, hurriedly pulling her favourite pair of underwear, light blue, adorned with yellow daisies, down her thighs, using her right foot to fling them somewhere in the room. 

“You good, honey? Lyin’ down f’me?” he asked, making sure she’d done what he had told her to. 

She hummed a yes, waiting to be given her next instructions. 

“Want you to start by playing with your clit a little bit, okay baby?

She quickly put her phone on speaker, laying it on the pillow beside where her head was propped up, before she snaked a hand down her body, moaning softly as her index finger began rubbing soft circles on her throbbing clit. 

“Good girl.” He spoke, slightly breathless. She could just make out the sound of him unbuckling his belt, making her thighs clench at the thought of him stroking his thick length. 

“Actually, baby, can you prop your phone up somewhere I’ll be able to see you? Can you do that, honey? 

She nodded, though she knew he couldn’t see her, and opted to prop her laptop up against the end of her bed, receiving a facetime request from Matty mere seconds later. Pressing ‘accept’ in record time, she scrambled to resume her previous position, being sure to spread her legs as wide as she could, just to make sure Matty could see as much of her as possible. 

Drawing lazy circles on her clit, the facetime finally connected, and she was met with Matty’s tired face, though she couldn’t tell if his eyes were hooded from sheer sleepiness, or horniness. Every thought wiped from her brain when he registered what was on the screen in front of him, flashing her a wide grin at the sight of her spread-legged for him. 

“Oh honey, such a good girl for me, doing what I tell you when I can’t even see it.”

She nodded, feeling her cunt get stickier as he watched her actions, speeding up slightly. 

“God, you’re gonna be the death of me sweetheart… Pussy’s so fucking pretty. Think you can fuck yourself with your fingers f’me now baby? Yeah?” He asked, though the questions were rhetorical. They were both well aware she would do just about anything and everything that he asked her to.  

However, she nodded nonetheless, looking at his pretty face on the screen in front of her as she brought the hand that wasn’t occupied with her clit down to tease her hole, swirling her index finger around the entrance teasingly. 

“Fuck, baby. S’that feel good? Huh?” He asked, though he received only soft moans and needy whines of his name in response, as she finally pushed a singular digit into her now soaking cunt. 

He threw his head back, eyebrows screwing together as he swiped a thumb across the head of his cock, smearing the pre-cum down the vein that ran along his length. Giving it three quick pumps, he began to slowly slide his fist up and down at the same time she pressed her fingers, having added a second not long after the first, into her tight pussy, a squelching sound reverberating from his laptop and around his hotel room. 

“Fuck,” He said breathlessly, “Such a good girl, baby. Takin’ those fingers so well f’me. Miss you so much, wish I was there with you right now honey.” He rambled, fist pumping his cock quicker now, as she slammed her fingers into her hole, right hand rapidly swiping across her clit as you brought yourself closer and closer to her orgasm, with Matty coaching her through it. 

“M-matty, feels so good!” She stuttered out, head thrown back against her pillows as her orgasm got closer and closer. 

He groaned as he watched her, fighting the urge to squeeze his eyes shut in pleasure as he fisted his slick length. 

“C’mon baby, you - fuck, you’ve got it baby. Can you cum f’me? “He spoke, though he had to try his hardest to speak in a way that was understandable, eyebrows furrowing as his orgasm approached alongside hers. 

“F-fuck!” She moaned, legs clenching together around her hands as she came, body jolting. Almost as though the two are connected, Matty’s body tightens, and thick ropes of cum decorate his lower stomach as he groans loudly, head thrown back against his pillows. 

Silence filled both rooms, with nothing but heavy breathes from both sides of the room to fill it. Her chest rises rapidly, hair sticking to her forehead. She reaches down, still silent, and fishes her laptop from the bottom of the bed, placing it on the side of the bed that Matty would usually occupy. Turning on her side to face the computer, she sees that he’s had the same idea, and is now lying beneath the duvet, curls messy and out of place, hooded eyes staring back at her through the screen. 

She smiles sleepily, though it’s midday for her and night-time for him; her sleep schedule had been messed up by consequence of her trying to catch his shows via livestream. He smiles back, eyes lidded and eyebrows relaxed. 

“I love you, baby.” He says, eyebrows lifted, softening his fatigued features, before he smiles cheekily. “See, all you needed was a bit of help, huh honey?” 

This causes her to laugh softly, head turning into her pillow to muffle the sound. She shrugs the best she can in her position, “I love you too Matty. Would’ve been better with the real thing here though.”

His eyebrows furrow slightly at this, as if reminded of the fact that he’s looking at her through a screen, and she isn’t actually in his bed right now. 

“I know sweetheart, just three more weeks, yeah? We can do it, honey. We’ve gone this long.” Just then, he checks the time, mumbling a low “Shit”. “Sorry honey, I gotta go to sleep now. I love you, I’ll see you in three weeks.”

©trumanbluee - reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated! but i do not wish for my work to be republished, translated, or copied. thanks!

[kate-the1975]

Thinking about the way George looked at me on this gloomy Saturday evening 🥺🥺🥺😭😭😭

[byyourside28]

Body Shots

Summary: Your boyfriend, Matty, and his friends are doing body shots off of you, and let's just say things take a turn.

Warnings: Smut (Dom matty, sexual tension/action with George and Charli, use of a vibrator, blindfold, dirty talk, unprotected sex. lmk if I missed any)

WC: 7.6K

The music rumbles beneath our feet, and I hear voices echoing around us. Matty’s hand stays in mine even as we finally reach the club’s main floor, and I can’t help but notice as he subtly tightens his grip at the sight in front of him.

The lighting was low, as usual. Matty and I spotted many familiar faces around the room in the crowded room. Declan, my best friend, was behind the counter pouring shot after shot of drinks at the bar while everyone else was too caught up in conversation to notice our arrival.

“Angel baby… I thought we agreed to a low-key night?” He whispers against the shell of my ear, his hand finally releasing my hand, only to trail up my arm. 

“Hmm…I decided not to listen.” I hum back in response, leaning into his touch momentarily before pulling away just as George's head snapped towards us. 

George jumps into action, hopping off the stool and racing towards us. “Matthew and Stormi.” He sings Matty’s name and my nickname loudly, the alcohol evident in his slightly slurred words. 

“Couldn’t wait for me to start drinking? Fuckin’ bullshit, mate.” Matty laughs, smiling easily at our friend and returning his hug.

George shrugs lazily, pressing a quick kiss to my cheek and pulls Matty away from me by the shoulder, whispering something in his ear that I couldn’t hear over the booming music. Two pairs of familiar eyes land on me just as Matty and George approach them, both men peering over their shoulders with wide smiles. 

Declan beckons me over, a shot glass in his hand as an offer, and I roll my eyes with a smile, joining him at the bar. 

“Hiya, babes. You look stunning tonight. Matty too,” Declan shouts across the bar, his own eyes bright with amusement. “Who are the other guys, though? Don’t think I’ve seen them in here before.” 

His chin juts towards the two men, all of them now deep in conversation with Matty and George. They’re exchanging genuine hugs, and Ross’s laughter echoes over the others and the music. 

“De, The rest of 75? You should know this by now.” I laugh, glancing over my shoulder again to find Matty’s eyes already on me. 

I roll my eyes when I see a girl trying to get Matty’s attention, her stupid fucking face smug as she winks at me. “And it begins.” I groan to Declan, his own face mirroring mine as it distorts into disgust. 

He raises his eyebrows at the girl as she looks back at us with a bored expression. “Can I help you?!" He shouts, everyone’s eyes turning in our direction. 

“Angel!” Matty shouts, jerking his head for me to join the small group.

“Wish me luck,” I groan, keeping my eyes off the girl who is now trying to get Adam’s attention. But she fails and storms off. Matty’s arm wraps around my shoulders just as I near them, unhesitatingly pulling me into his side as I greet Ross and Adam.

Ross’s grin is wide as he takes a swig from his drink, his eyes flickering down my body before returning to my face. “Stormi, what have I told ya about lookin' so goddamn pretty all the time?”

I chuckle, shaking my head at the compliment as I lean closer to Matty. His grip tightens on my shoulder possessively, and I can’t help but revel in the attention. “You’re just saying that because you’re drunk, Ross.”

“Hey, I’m not that drunk. Plus, it’s true,” Ross shrugs, taking another sip from his glass.

Adam chimes in with a grin, pulling me into a quick hug. “You look gorgeous, Stormi. As always.” I feel my cheeks heat up, but Matty’s voice cuts in before I can respond. “She’s mine, lads.”

Everyone laughs at his possessiveness, but I can tell that he means it. His arm stays firmly around my shoulders, and I lean into his side contentedly.

“Yeah, but George had her first.” Adam jokes, earning a playful punch in the arm from George.

“We were fifteen!” George groans, but his laughter betrays his annoyance.

Matty rolls his eyes, but the corners of his mouth turn up in a small smile. “Fuckk off, Hann.”

I feel a warm feeling spread through my chest, and I glance up at Matty to find him looking down at me with a soft expression. The group continues to laugh and joke around until two hands wrap around George's waist, “About time you show up!” He exclaims. “This is Charli.”

I turn to face Charli, meeting her gaze with a smile. “Hi, nice to meet you. I’m Y/n but everyone calls me Stormi.” I say warmly.

“You look fantastic.” She smiles warmly at me, looking at my all-black outfit: A see-through blouse that ties in the center of my breasts, exposing the part of my abdomen. A striped mini skirt, reaching just below the tops of my thighs.

“She’s prettier than you said, Matty.” She teases, laughing when Matty scoffs and shakes his head, seemingly embarrassed.

“Oh, really?” I joke, nudging Matty’s hip with my own. “Fuckin' hell, G. Can't believe you were able to pull Ms.xcx.”

The guys and Charli chuckle as George shoots them a playful glare while securely embracing her with his toned arm.

We all continue to chat, taking turns downing shots and catching up on each other's lives. The music is pounding, and the heat of the bodies around us makes the air feel thick with anticipation. I can feel Matty's hand on the small of my back, leading me effortlessly around the dance floor as we move to the beat.

Charli and I form a quick bond, chatting and laughing together as though we’ve known each other for years. The guys are all in good spirits, their laughter and jokes filling the room alongside the music.

As the night wears on, I can feel the alcohol taking its toll on everyone. “Drunk men are just grown toddlers; you can’t convince me otherwise.” I laugh, sipping on the whiskey in my glass. 

As if on cue, Matty is bringing his face dangerously close to a sparkler that George is holding and lighting it, Adam and Ross laughing in sync like children. 

“What’re you drinking? I can smell it from here.” Charli ponders, craning her neck to look at the amber liquor in my glass. 

“Crown apple with some kind of vanilla liqueur. Declan makes it solely for me, and calls it the ‘In the eye of Stormi’. Wanna try it?” I offer, holding the glass out to her empty hands. 

I turn my attention back to Matty when she takes the glass from me, his eyes already on mine with a smile on his lips.

Charli hums in appreciation of the drink, handing it back to me as Matty ushers me to the DJ booth with his pointer finger. “Oh God, let’s go see what they want.” I laugh, setting the glass down, hooking my arm into Charli’s, and dragging her along with me.

We weave through the crowd, the bass pounding in my chest as we reach the DJ booth. Charli immediately begins talking to G, Adam and Ross. I feel Matty's arm wrap around my waist as he speaks into my ear.

“Thought you’d like to know, that girl you were glaring at earlier left with her tail between her legs when she realized she didn’t stand a chance,” He murmurs, his breath hot against my neck.

I turn to look at him, my heart pounding in my chest. Matty’s eyes are dark and smouldering, and his lips parted slightly as he looks down at me hungrily. I can feel his body pressing against mine, and my breath catches in my throat.

“That was ages ago, and I wasn’t glaring,” I protest weakly, biting my lip as his lips brush against my ear.

“Sure you weren’t,” He murmurs, his hand sliding down my back and landing on my hip. I shiver at his words, feeling a rush of excitement pool low in my belly. The possessive edge to his voice sends a thrill through me, and I turn my head to look up at him, my lips curving into a small smirk. “I wasn’t glaring,” I stated again, even though we both knew it was a lie.

Matty’s eyes glint with amusement, and he leans down to capture my lips in a heated, possessive kiss. I revel in the feel of his body pressed against mine, the taste of wine on his tongue as he deepens the kiss.

I moan softly against his mouth, my fingers tangling in his hair as he pulls me closer. We’re lost in our own world, the music and chatter of the party fading into the background as we explore each other, our bodies pressed together in a haze of desire.

When we finally break apart, I can hear Charli and the guys whooping in the background, but I couldn't care less. All that matters is how Matty looks at me, his eyes burning with need.

“C'mon babes, I need a drink.” Charli said, breaking my gaze from Matty. My cheeks burn with embarrassment, and I turn to see the boys all clapping and cheering us on.

“Wow, guys. You’re really goin’ for it,” Ross teases, his grin stretching from ear to ear.

I shove Matty playfully as he grabs my ass but can't keep the smile off my face. “Shut up, Ross.”

Adam laughs, throwing an arm around Matty’s shoulders. “It was proper disgusting, mate. I think I need to cleanse my eyes.”

Matty rolls his eyes, his hand still resting on my hip possessively. “Jealousy isn’t a good look on you, Hann.”

George laughs loudly, “He’s not the only one jealous, mate. I think we all are.”

Charli chuckles, her eyes flickering between the two of us. “You guys are pretty cute together.”

I feel Matty's grip tighten on me, and he shoots her a quick smile. “I know.”

I gradually free myself from his grip and turn to Charli, who extends her hand toward me as we leave the DJ booth and head towards the bar.

“God, look at them!” Charli laughs and lets go of my hand. We come to a halt in the middle of the dance floor.

I follow Charli’s line of sight; George is throwing Matty over his shoulder and shouting incoherently, running around the stage drunkenly. Matty is punching his back, cursing for him to put him down while Adam chases them, attempting to help. Ross is just standing there, doubled over in laughter and pointing at the three of them. 

“Fucking toddlers, I swear.” I laugh, grabbing Charli's hand to pull her through the crowd. 

Declan is already watching us as we make our way up to the bar, his eyes dancing with delight at the sight of Charli. I giggle, knowing he is a huge fan of hers and probably shitting himself.

Declan makes his way over to us almost instantly, as we both sit on a stool and a glass of the ‘in the eye of Stormi’ placed in front of me, “Sorry, didn’t know what you’d like, babe. What can I get you?” He directs his question to Charli, an animating expression on his face. 

“Oh, you know what would be fun? Body shots!” She shouts, bouncing in her seat. “C'mon, Stormi, do it with me!”

“Yeah, c'mon on, Stormi. It’d be hot as fuck.” I turn to find Ross stumbling his way over to us; his skin tinted red from the alcohol. 

“God, Where did you come from?” I chuckle as Ross winks at me.

The three of them start cheering me on, and I groan dramatically, laughing before standing from the stool and nodding in agreement. Ross automatically offers his hand to help me onto the bar, and I lay flat, patiently waiting for Declan to get the needed ingredients. 

Matty, George and Adam are now making their way over to us, all of their expressions the same as they question what is going on.

As soon as Declan pulls my skirt a little lower and starts pouring the tequila into my now-exposed navel, Matty’s brows raise, and George stumbles into Adam’s body. My body shivers as the cool liquor spills over my stomach, but it’s quickly gone when I focus on the feeling of Charli sprinkling salt along my exposed cleavage. 

“Open up.” Charli instructs with a smirk, holding the lime edge between her fingers over my mouth. I do as she says, holding the citrus in my mouth carefully.

Her hair tickles my stomach as she leans down, sucking up the alcohol, and I flick my eyes around the people around me. Ross is astonished, eyes wide as he watches our every move.

I can’t help but laugh as Charli’s tongue darts between my cleavage, licking up the salt slowly. Matty and George stare at us, their bodies tense as they repeatedly smack one another in disbelief. 

Adam's eyes look at us and then force them away, only to look back with turmoil. “Why the fuck is this kinda hot?”

I almost choke on the lime with a laugh as Charli lowers her mouth to mine, Ross smacking Adam’s shoulder reassuringly. “Shut up! Enjoy the show.” Everyone cheers around us as she pulls the lime from my lips, triumphantly standing back up straight with it between her teeth. Charli sucks on the fruit for a moment before spitting it down onto the bar beside me, offering me a helping hand as I sit up. I’m stunned for a moment when she pushes her mouth on me, the taste of the body shot erupting on my taste buds as her tongue darts out against mine. 

“Fuck yeah!” Ross shouts as our lips move together languidly, and we laugh, pulling apart from one another. 

“Told ya that’d be fun.” Charli winks at me, helping me hop off the bar before making her way to George, having to snap in his face a few times to break his trance. 

Matty is suddenly in front of me, his hands gripping my waist as he pulls me towards him. His eyes are dark with desire as he dips his head down to capture my lips in a heated kiss.

I can feel the heat radiating off his body as he presses against me, and I can't help but moan into his mouth. His hand slides down to the curve of my hip, his fingers trailing fire along my skin.

I cling to him as he deepens the kiss, our bodies pressed together in a frenzy of desire. The room fades away until it's just the two of us lost in our passion, the alcohol and the salty taste on my tongue only adding to the craving that burns inside me.

Finally, we break apart, gasping for air. Matty looks down at me with a hungry expression, his hand sliding up to cup my cheek.

“You're mine,” he growls possessively, and I can feel the desire burning in his gaze.

The rest of the night is hazy and blurry, a haze of whispered promises and drunken laughter. We all stumble out of the club and into cabs while Matty and George argue over who could do a body shot faster.

I giggle, my head spinning from the alcohol as I lean into Matty's side. I glance at Charli, who is laughing with Ross as they poke fun at Adam, who is already passed out as we pull away from the club.

The ride is filled with the sound of our friends' drunken laughter and the quiet hum of the car engine. I let myself get lost in the sensation of Matty's arm around my waist, his hand warm against my skin.

Before I know it, we pull up outside Matty's house, and he helps me out of the car. We all stumble on the footpath towards the front door, still giggling like children as Adam stumbles behind us, barely able to keep his eyes open.

Matty fumbles for his keys, his hand shaking slightly from the alcohol, and finally manages to unlock the door. We all pile into the house, and Matty turns to me with a wicked grin.

The marble countertop is cold against my bare back as I lay back, the ceiling slightly spinning as I stare up at the tiles and the music blaring loudly. “You ready, Angel?” Matty rasps at my ear, my head turning to the side to face him. 

He has a mischievous glint in his eyes, clouded by the amount of alcohol in his system, but it’s unmistakable. I nod my head yes and suck in a deep breath, looking back directly above me. 

George is on the other side of me, smirking down at me with almost just as much teasing crossing his features. My body jerks when I feel the cold shot glasses sit on my stomach carefully, and George is suddenly at my other ear, chuckling wickedly. “Don’t be scared, darlin’. We both know you’ve been dying for my tongue on you again, haven’t you?”

Before I can open my mouth to respond, Matty is gripping George’s shirt and pulling him away from me with a warning expression carved onto his features. 

Two lines of salt are poured on my torso, following the curve of my breasts and over my bra, stopping at the base of my neck finally. 

I glance over at Charli, who is watching with excitement in her eyes, and when she catches my gaze, she throws me a seductive smirk. I hold back my laugh when she mouths, "I’m next", and winks at me in hopes of not spilling the tequila sitting on my stomach. 

“Open up, Angel.” Matty orders, grabbing my attention again. When I look back up to him, he’s holding the slice of lime near my lips. 

I take the fruit between my teeth and smile at both boys, nearly choking on it when George rasps a low "good girl" at me.

How the hell did I get here? Why did I agree to this?

Matty curses under his breath and looks like he wants to murder George, but he takes a stabilizing breath and stands up straight, jerking his head for George to do the same. 

“I can’t fuckin’ watch this.” Adam announces dramatically, throwing his arms up in the air before storming to the living room. It only takes about two seconds before he’s poking his head back out into the kitchen and looks at Ross expectantly. “Get the hell in here, mate.” 

Ross literally pouts his bottom lip and flicks his eyes between Adam and me, sighing when he sees Adamis ready to physically drag him away if needed. I can’t help but cackle loudly at Ross’s face. Matty and George’s hands quickly grasp onto their glasses, holding them in place until I’ve calmed down enough to hold steady. 

“I think Adam is right, Charli…” Ross mutters, his eyes glazing over as he watches us closely. “Maybe we shouldn’t watch this.”

“Fuck that, I’m staying.” She declares immediately, waving her hand towards the hall where Adam disappeared. “You’re right, though. You don’t get to watch—go have fun with Hann.” Ross almost trips over his own feet as he stumbles out of the kitchen and down the hall, his eyes only leaving me once he’s entirely out of sight. 

Matty sighs harshly and looks back at Charli. “Are we done with the interruptions? I’d like to get this over with.”

“What’s the matter, Matty? Gettin’ nervous that I might be better than you, huh?” George taunts, cocking his head to the side with a slight smirk. 

Matty responds with a humourless chuckle, which has my thighs clenching at the vibrato. “Are you forgetting who she’s with, G? You can only dream of being better than me.” Matty scoffs, his hand coming up to dance along my exposed thigh that’s closest to him. 

“Are you forgetting that I’ve fucked her too? I could show how where, if you’d like.” George counters, a raise of his brow. 

“Shut the fuck up and get ready.” Matty demands, and George smirks but listens, bending down at his torso until I can feel his breath fan across my abdomen. 

I squirm under their mouths, both out of excitement and nerves. 

“Now.” George says hastily, both of them shooting back the alcohol in one gulp. Their mouths were suddenly on my skin, and I gasped as their tongues glided up my abdomen, licking every inch of salt they could reach. 

The warmth of their breaths contrasts the coolness of their tongues, the alcohol lingering in their mouths. They lick me slowly, and each time they move, they leave behind a burning sensation as I moan loudly, my entire body shuddering.

Matty groans lowly, tugging the strap off my shoulder as his lips move down my torso slowly, kissing his way down my right breast. I arch my back, trying desperately to get closer to him, moaning louder at the feeling of his tongue against my nipple as he licks it gently.

George came up to my lips and sucked on the flesh of the lime, then pulled it out with his teeth. He took the lime out of his mouth but was still hovering over me, staring at my lips. He licked his own lips hungrily, leaning in even more, closing the gap between our lips.

“Wait.” Matty murmurs, pulling George’s head back with a firm grip on his neck. George whines loudly at the loss of contact, and Matty grins wickedly down at me. His eyes flash from me to George, and I can tell he’s contemplating what to do next.

If Matty decides to kiss George, I’m gonna have trouble keeping myself from jumping him. But before any of that happens, I direct my eyes to Charli; she stares at me silently, biting her lower lip while her fingers play with the hem of her dress. Her face is flushed, and she bites down so hard on her lip it looks like her bottom lip might bleed. 

I can see the desire dancing in her brown eyes as well. I bite down hard on mine, and Matty looks back down at me, his eyes searching my face and my eyes darting between both him and Charli.

If he notices anything, however, he doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he pulls George forward again with a harsh push on his neck, bringing Goerge’s mouth to mine.

His mouth moves quickly over mine, pushing my back further against the countertop as George grabs fistfuls of my hair. The taste of beer and tequila coats my tongue instantly. My body buzzes with pleasure, and I gasp for air when Matty starts sucking on my neck.

I push George’s face back, breathing heavily, my heart racing in my chest. Matty keeps kissing up my throat, his warm breath causing goosebumps to form across my skin. He leans back and trails kisses along my jaw, stopping inches from my lips.

My body twitches, begging for the kiss Matty will give me. I’m desperate to feel his lips touch mine. But, he leans back slightly with a smug grin, resting his hand against my cheek gently, his eyes glancing down at my lips.

“Only I get to have you tonight.” His voice is soft and husky, filled with a possessiveness I’ve never heard from him before. His thumb strokes across my cheek lightly, the action sending a wave of shivers through my body.

I can feel my cheeks flush at his words, and I can only nod in agreement. Matty grins, leaning in and finally pressing his lips to mine. This kiss is soft and gentle, lingering as if it were our first. When he pulls away, his eyes are filled with a longing that mirrors my own.

Matty releases George from his grip, and the two of them stumble back, laughing at their own jokes as if nothing had just happened. I watch as Charli steps forward, her fingers reaching out for me as I sit up.

“Are you alright, babe?” She asks. I nod, a small smile tugging at the corners of my lips. Charli grins and hugs me, wrapping her arms around my waist. She held me tightly, lifted my chin with her fingers, and then kissed me fiercely. It was hungry, passionate, and exploratory.

Her tongue swept through my mouth. I could feel the tip of it go past my lips and stroke the inside of my teeth. It was as if she were breathing life into me.

An iron grip clamped around my hair and yanked me away from her alluring lips. “What did I just tell you?” Matty asks sternly, his eyes burning into mine.

Charli pulls away with a gasp and stares at Matty, whose voice is level with a hint of warning in it. “Don't forget who she belongs to,” he says with a smirk, his thumb stroking the side of my face. Charli and I stayed still, I immediately forgot about the kiss, and I nodded in response.

Charli puts her hands up in submission and smiles innocently. “Why can't we share, Matty?” she inquires as George comes up from behind and encloses her in his embrace, a mischievous smirk spread across his face. 

Matty glares at her before turning his eyes back to me. He sighs heavily and runs his hands through his hair, a slight smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He steps around the island and pulls me close, pressing his forehead against mine.

“You belong to me.” He whispers before kissing me softly on the lips. His kiss lingers, and his grip tightens until I'm sure I'm going to faint.

He pulls away, his eyes still blazing. He looks back at Charli and smirks. “You can have her after I'm done…maybe.”

Charli's jaw drops slightly, her cheeks flushing red, but she nods obediently. Matty turns to face me, his hand on my waist as he quickly pulls me from the island. I struggle to keep up with his long strides, and Matty doesn’t seem to want to wait on me as he turns and flings me over his shoulders, bounding up the stairs with intent. 

The faces of our friends bounce around my sight with each step he takes, and I manage to throw up a parting wave to them, smiling boldly as they both laugh. As we reach the top of the stairs, Matty forcefully pushes the door to his bedroom open and sets me down on my feet.

His lips press against mine, his tongue parting my lips and sliding into my mouth. He kisses me fiercely, with passion pouring from every touch of his hand on my waist to the weight of his body, which crushes me against him. When he pulls away, he looks down at me with a mischievous smirk and a twinkle in his eye.

“Don't forget,” he says, his voice growing more serious with each spoken word. “You belong to me, Stormi. Always and forever.” Goosebumps rise on my arms as he runs his hands down my body. 

“I belong to you.” I whisper, pressing my lips to his once again.

The second my bra is off, my fingers are yanking at his shirt, and his hands are feverishly unzipping my skirt. Matty’s eyes are hazy and look downright bloodshot, and I find myself even more attracted to him in this state. I love it when he has more than a few drinks—he gets raunchier and more demanding.

Drunk Matty is my favorite Matty.

He pulls away from my lips, his gaze running up and down my body which was now only covered by a delicate lace; I could feel the heat of his stare burning through the fabric.

“Take them off and sit on the bed.” he orders, his voice gritty as he juts his chin towards the mattress. 

I take hold of the slim band around my waist, inching it downwards as Matty steps forward. “Faster.” He says, his gaze dropping to the skin that is now visible.

I make a show of sliding them down, letting the fabric free fall down my legs before stepping out of them and sitting on the bed. His low hum of approval causes a spark of pleasure to run up my spine.

"Good girl." Matty's voice is a throaty growl as he steps closer, “Open your legs. Wanna see that pretty pussy.” His voice drops an octave, and his eyes fixated on where I have my knees pressed tightly together.  

He stares hungrily as I part my thighs, leaning back onto my hands to give him an unobstructed view. “Like this?” I ask in a sultry voice, biting down on my lower lip when I catch him swallowing hard.

Matty strides forward, closing the gap between us. His lips eagerly seek mine as he moves closer, and I let out a soft moan that he eagerly takes in. My hands reach out to grasp the bulge beneath his boxers, and he responds with a muffled moan.

“Beautiful.” He whispers, finally pulling away from my lips, his eyes still trained on the place between my legs. “I can’t wait to be inside you.”

I’m caught off guard when Matty pulls away and shoves me back, my hair flying over my face with a bounce on the mattress. “Raise your arms above your head.” he orders. 

A thrill runs through me as I eagerly raise my arms, my eyes glued to Matty as he lowers himself to me, and I gasp as he pushes his hips between mine, his hands sliding up my body, cupping my breasts and harshly pinching my hardened nipples.

“Fucking hell,” I moan, gripping at his side. He roughly grabs my wrist and jerks it above my head. 

“You do not move, understand?” Matty cocks his head to the side slightly, his eyes drilling into mine from above.

I give him a small nod of understanding, and he crawls off the bed and away from me. His toned back muscles ripple with each step he takes away, causing me to clench my legs together involuntarily.

He whips his head around to look at me, catching me writhing. “I told you not to move, Stormi. Spread 'em now.”  I slowly open my legs, revealing myself completely to him. His gaze travels down my body, and I catch his breath hitch in the back of his throat.

“Tell me, Angel...Did you like Charli and George touching you?” He mutters, turning back to his closet while rummaging through it for something. My lips remain in a tight line when Matty turns back to me, “We both know you did, Stormi. No point in staying quiet now.” he says with an amused smirk as I hesitate.

“Yes.” I finally whisper, barely audible. His smirk turns devious as he steps towards me, slipping the tie over my eyes and tying it behind my head.

“This okay?” He clarifies, and I nod. My vision is overcome by darkness, and I strain my ears to listen for the movement of him standing up from the bed. The mattress dips slightly as he rises.

My body twitches as his fingertips lightly graze my collarbone, gradually dipping lower and swirling in a circle around the shape of my chest. I feel their warmth as he traces them over my breasts.

A gasp leaves my lips when his fingers dip between my parted thighs, dragging them slowly through my folds before applying pressure to my swollen clit. The loss of vision, my hearing has perked up, and I hear how he sucks a breath between his teeth when he feels how wet I already am for him.

“Pathetic that you are this wet when I haven't even done anything.” he whispers, leaning over my body and ghosting his lips over mine. “Do you wish it was them touching you instead of me?” 

“No.” I say instantly.

“Good.” He smirks against my lips before crashing them against mine, his tongue pushing its way into my mouth. His finger rubs circles against my clit in the same rhythm that his tongue is dancing around mine, and it’s taking all my self-control not to pull his hair, to plead for more.

Moving wouldn’t be the wisest choice.

I can feel how hard he is, pressed against my leg as he rocks his hips a bit to gain some friction. “Please, Matty.” I beg, for what- I’m not sure.

“What is it, Angel? Tell me what you need.” He groans between urgent kisses as his finger finds its way into me. His touch is not soft and tender. It’s rough and insistent, only stopping once he’s reached the depth of his knuckle. “Fuck. You’re so tight. Let me take care of you, yeah?” 

“More of you. Please.” I beg, my own voice foreign to my ears.

Matty adds a second finger and circles my clit with his thumb. “There ya go, does that feel good?”

My hips buck up as he speeds up, begging for more pressure, for him to be deeper- anything. “Remember what I said,” Matty hums before removing himself completely from me, a whimper falling past my lips, and I hear the side table drawer open.

My head snaps downward when I feel the bed dip and his smooth hands, save for the calluses on his fingertips, touch both of my calves. “Now remember, Angel. You’re going to be a good girl and not move- and if you do, I will stop.”

I nod at him as Matty spreads my legs slowly, teasing every inch of my skin he touches by ghosting his fingers over me. A loud moan passes my lips when he presses the silicone vibrator against my clit, the power on full blast without warning. 

“That’s it. Let me hear how good this feels.” Matty encourages me, circling the toy slowly and pressing firmer. More moans fall from my lips. My stomach is tightening already, and my legs are starting to shake against the outside of Matty’s thighs as he’s situated himself between them. 

Tears threaten to spill past my eyelids when Matty pushes two fingers into me, curling them up to hit the perfect spot. My chest is heaving, back arched, “I'm gonna cum.” I whimper.

His fingers, the vibrator- all pulled away from me, leaving me panting. Pulling the tie from my off in anger. He is already smirking at me when I sit up on my palms, lips pressed tightly together, and brows furrowed. “What the fuck, Matty?” I hiss, kicking him away and standing from the bed. “I know Charli and G will finish me off If you won't.” I taunted, knowing damn well I wouldn’t do it. The bed creaks as he stands, and I catch him in my peripheral, stalking me with a glare. 

In the blink of an eye, I’m pulled back with Matty’s hand wrapped around my throat. His bare chest is pressed to my back, his lips ghosting over the shell of my ear. “What the fuck did you just say?”

My body shivers at the threatening timber of his voice, his fingers flexing on either side of my neck. 

There he is.

“You heard me, Matty. Either you fuck me, or I go downstairs right now." Matty pushes me away from him and towards the bed, and I have to catch myself by my palms to stop myself from falling over completely. 

“Is this what you want, Angel? To be fucked like the little needy whore you are?” I peek over my shoulder as he pulls his boxers down and kicks out of them quickly. 

The throbbing in my stomach increases when I see how hard he is, a bead of pre-cum spilling from the head of his dick. He spits into his hand, smearing it around the head of his dick before pumping himself a few times, holding my steady gaze. 

My head drops back to face the mattress when he comes to stand behind me, one hand digging into my hip and the other smoothing over the curve of my ass before he thrusts into me, stilling when his hips meet my backside. 

“Oh, fuck.” I curse, gripping the sheets into my palms. “Matty, please.” I beg, pushing my hips back against him for friction.

“Now you’re begging for me, huh? Desperate fuckin' slut. The way you’re gripping around me, god damn.” He grunts, sliding out slowly until just the head of his dick is inside of me. 

“Do you still wanna go to them?” My breath is knocked from my lungs when he thrusts into me hard, holding onto my hip for better leverage. “Do you think they could fuck you like this? Leave you a pathetic panting mess?” 

Matty drills into me, fast and hard, “Tell me, Stormi.” He grunts, his free hand coming to my hair, pulling our bodies flush against one another as he pushes into me at a new angle. 

“No, no. I only want you.” I whine loudly, reaching behind me to hold onto his narrow waist to steady myself. 

“That's what I fuckin' thought.” He scoffs, turning my head by the hair he has wrapped around his fist to smash our lips together.  My body rocks against his, breathing long forgotten as he captures my lips and keeps the torturous pace he’s thrusting with. 

A chill runs down my spine as I feel my arousal start to run down my legs, guttural moans passing through both of us. My legs are shaking, and I’m choking on breathy moans as he pushes me back down, slamming into me with need. 

“Be a good girl and fuckin’ take it.” He grunts, a hand coming down to slap my ass harshly. 

I can’t even begin to form a sentence with how rough and quick he is pounding into me. My skin is sweaty, and loud moans leave my lips and mix with Matty’s. His thrusts are becoming less precise, quick and sloppy with how wet I am, and I can tell by his broken moans that he’s getting close to cumming. 

My eyes close tightly from the pleasure, and I can feel myself pulsing around him, trying to coax the orgasm my body is burning for. 

Again, right before I can feel the high coming, Matty pulls out of me. 

I fall onto the mattress and glance over my shoulder, ready to cuss him out, but this time he leaves no opening for it. His hands grip my waist, turning me and scooting both of us up on the bed frantically. 

He parts my legs, sitting on his knees between them as he wraps one around his waist and the other over his shoulder. He meets my gaze, a smirk tugging at his lips before leaning his head over and spitting directly onto my throbbing cunt. My body jerks when his fingers come down to my clit, rubbing the spit around in a teasing rhythm.

My breath is choked out when he delves back into me roughly without warning. 

Matty’s eyes roll back, and his bottom lip is pulled between his teeth as his head falls back to look up at the ceiling in pleasure. The sight alone, so worked up because of me, has me nearly cumming. His body is coated in sweat, chest and biceps rippling with each movement. 

His damp curls hang over his eyes as he looks back down at me when I moan his name, one hand holding my leg securely over his shoulder and the other coming down to rub circles over my clit. 

My back arches, and my hands hold onto the sheets beneath me at the sensation. “Fuck me. That’s it, Angel. You like that, yeah?” 

I nod frantically, screwing my eyes shut when my knee almost touches my chest as he leans over me, his lips finding mine hungrily. “Feels so fucking good.”

“Yes, god. You feel so good inside of me.” I praise him in breathy whimpers, unclamping my hands from the sheets to dip one into his sweaty hair and the other raking over his shoulder blades. 

Matty drops the leg from over his shoulder, using his own grip on my shoulders to pound into me deeper. The new angle has me arching again, our chests pressed together, and loud moans falling from my lips like a prayer when he attacked his mouth to my neck, trailing kisses and love bites down my chest. 

I’m thankful for the loud music going on downstairs cause the moment his lips latch around my nipple, circling his tongue and pulling it between his teeth, my hips buck, and a pornographic moan forces itself from my lips. 

“You look so beautiful like this, falling apart all because of me.” He groans, glancing up at me as he peppers kisses between the curve of my breasts. 

Pushing him over, I turn the both of us so that I’m straddling his waist, his hands taking refuge on my hips. I don’t waste a second before slamming my hips down and taking him all the way. 

Matty’s mouth falls open, throwing his head back against the pillow as my walls clamp around him. 

My nails dig into his chest as I rock my hips, lifting and falling back onto him, chasing the orgasm that’s begging to be released. His moans urge me on, and I lift myself off until just the tip is in me before plunging back down quicker this time, letting our voices meld together. 

His hip bones are digging into me with how rough I’m riding him, and I’m sure I’ll leave marks on his chest from my nails, but the pain is only quickening his climax. His face is pulled up in pleasure; eyes closed tightly with his jaw unhinged. 

“Open your eyes. I wanna watch you.” I say through broken breaths, trailing a hand down into his and bringing it up to cup my breast tightly. 

Brown eyes meet mine before glancing down to watch himself disappear inside me. Each time I lower myself onto him, my arousal coats him, making a mess between the two of us.

“Jesus Christ,” he moans, his other hand releasing my hip and coming to rub circles on my clit with his thumb in rhythm with the rocking of my hips. 

“That’s it, Angel. Fuck me. Use me. Make a goddamn mess.” He encourages, my own head flinging back to the ceiling in pleasure before looking down into his eyes. 

It’s only a few more times of me lifting myself and plummeting down on him before my walls start convulsing around him, the hand he’s cupping my breast with coming to my throat and tightening his fingers around the sides. “Shit, shit, shit…” I moan out in breaths, Matty nodding understandingly. 

“Feels so good, Angel. Nobody hugs my cock like you do, goddamn.” He groans, pulling his feet up to lay flat against the mattress. The hand around my throat tugs me down, his lips meeting mine roughly. 

My lips part, a loud moan that Matty swallows hungrily. I know if his lips weren’t on mine, the music and voices downstairs wouldn’t be able to block out my screams chanting his name. 

His hips buck up into me with no mercy, a hand smoothing down my spine before squeezing the flesh of my ass harshly. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” I choke, my walls clenching around him violently. Besides the muddled music and the pants between us, all I can hear is our bodies smacking against one another. 

Both of his arms wrap around me, guiding me through the blur of my high, smacking my ass with one hand while the other continues biting into my skin devilishly. “Soak my cock, Angel. Cum all over me.”

My movement is still as my jaw drops, breathing heavily against Matty’s lips. I can feel myself dripping onto his pelvis and thighs as he continues to thrust up into me, his own grunts of an oncoming orgasm coursing through him. My forehead drops to his chest as his movements become sloppy and sharp, my name flowing from his lips like a sinful prayer. 

“Shit, fuckin’ hell-” he moans, thrusting up into me one last time with force before stilling inside of me. 

The tension in both of our bodies dissipates as I collapse fully on top of him, his hands smoothing over the sensitive skin of my ass before trailing up my damp back and curling in the hair that’s sticking to the back of my neck. 

I’m not sure how long we’ve laid there, just breathing in each other’s scent and calmingness before Matty gently pulls out of me and softly brings his lips to mine.

“I love you. That was fucking amazing,” he whispers, a satisfied smirk on his lips. I hum in agreement as I rest my forehead against his, a peaceful silence settling between us.

[whimsicalpolitical]

Ur last oneshot was so good so what about actor!reader who finds matty jerking off to a spicy scene she shot and hes just like a pathetic mess so she surely has to help him out ;)

tysm!! 18+mdni, smut

matty’s fucked, and he knows it.

you’ve only been gone for maybe two hours but something about the way you left, flustered and still buttoning up your coat, lipstick a little smudged from the goodbye kiss he stole on your way out the door, has him aching. properly aching.

let alone the ten minutes in bed where he tried to convince you to stay while pressing his hard on against your thigh.

he’s tried distracting himself, a cigarette on the balcony before it started raining, scrolling aimlessly through his phone, opening and closing spotify without even hitting play. but his brain won’t quiet down. it just keeps replaying the way you said ‘baby, i won’t be long. just be patient.’

his gaze drops to the tapes by the tv.

matty’s pretending he hasn’t been staring at them the entire time he has been sitting on the couch.

he sighs, leans back against the couch like it’s betrayed him, and drags a hand over his face, through his curls, down his chest.

he’s hard already. the thought of it, of you, of your mouth parted and your naked body in that hotel bed on-screen…

fuck.

his fingers twitch.

no one's here to see.

you won't be back for hours.

just a quick look.

just one scene.

he gets up from the couch to put the tape into the recorder. then he sits down again.

he doesn’t even think about it. just yanks his shirt over his head like it’s offending him, tosses it somewhere behind the couch. it’s too warm in here, or maybe it’s just him. his skin is buzzing, flushed, the need crawling all over him like static.

he drops back into the cushions, exhaling sharp through his nose, hand already sliding to the soft skin just above the waistband of his sweats. that little hollow of his lower stomach where he knows your mouth loves to press kisses when you’re feeling sweet.

his thumb hovers over the remote. he hesitates. just for a second.

then presses play.

the tv screen flickers to life, brightening the dim room with your face, gorgeous and scowling, all fire and fury as you shove your scene partner up against a kitchen counter. your voice comes through sharp and breathless, spitting lines that don’t even sound like a script, they sound real, like you’re actually mad, like he’s the one you’re shoving, the one you're snapping at.

matty blinks slow. swallows hard. the way your eyes flash, god, you're pretty when you're angry. all sharp jaw and quick wit, chest rising with adrenaline, hair a little messy. you’re wearing that low tank top they picked for your character and it rides up a little as you step forward on screen, pointing your finger in the guy’s face.

matty’s hand tightens where it’s resting on his belly, fingers twitching like they might crawl lower without permission.

your voice on screen drops, quieter now and more vulnerable. you’re both still angry but there’s that shift, that moment in every good fight where it starts curving into something else. breathier. closer. you’re standing chest to chest now, your hands on the guy’s shirt, and matty can’t breathe.

he squeezes himself through his sweats, just a little. enough to feel something. it’s not even about the scene. it’s about you. how real you look. how your lips part just the way they do when you’re climbing over him in bed, or the way your eyes go heavy when you’re aching for him but trying not to show it.

and matty’s mouth is dry.

“fuckin’ gorgeous,” he whispers, hand moving a little more now.

his other hand drags up through his hair again, elbow resting on the arm of the couch as his body sinks lower into the cushions, legs parted, jaw slack. he’s a fucking mess already and you’re not even halfway through the scene. he watches as you shove the guy back again.

his thumb is slipping under the band of his sweats now, heart pounding while pulling them fully down.

he palms himself gently now, hips twitching up, too sensitive already. there’s a little wet stain of pre-cum on his faded blue briefs, and he takes it as a sign to keep going.

but then your character shoves the guy again, this time slamming him back into the wall, and suddenly you’re in control. and matty can barely hold himself back.

his breath stutters.

“that’s my girl,” he groans, like it’s a prayer, like it’s a plea.

he wishes you were here. wishes it was your fingers wrapped around him, your mouth teasing him for getting worked up over something as pathetic as a scene. you’d laugh at him and then sink to your knees just to shut him up.

his hips lift again, helpless, needing more pressure. his cheeks are flushed, hair a mess, lips parted as he watches you step even closer to the guy on screen.

he doesn’t waste another minute to pull his boxers down to free his aching cock.

his legs are spread wide on the couch, chest flushed pink, lips parted and glossy from all the panting, all the low noises that keep falling out of him every time you so much as breathe on screen.

he spits into his hand quick and messy and wraps his fingers around himself with a sharp inhale that turns into a soft, choked-off whimper.

“jesus christ,” he mutters, voice breaking.

he strokes slow at first, trying to pace it, but it’s already hopeless he’s so worked up, it almost hurts. the warmth of his hand, the slickness, the ache deep in his stomach it’s all too much. and watching you, angry and half-naked, grinding into someone who isn’t him, it wrecks him.

because now you’re not yelling at your scene partner anymore but you’re making out, messily and harsh because you’re still angry with each other.

your voice moans something into the guy’s mouth and matty’s whole body arches off the couch.

“oh fuck,” he chokes, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. “should be me with you like that.“

his other hand grips the edge of the cushion so tight his knuckles go white. his curls are stuck to his forehead, chest rising and falling in rapid stutters, and he doesn’t even care how wrecked he looks.

his hips jerk up into his fist again and again, chasing something that feels more like longing than lust.

“please,” he whimpers, voice cracking, “please, love-“

he doesn’t even know what he’s begging for. just knows he’d give anything to have you here. to have your mouth on him, your hands replacing his, your eyes laughing down at him while he fell apart under your touch like he always does.

his hand establishes a steady pace, his rosy tip leaking a bead of pre-cum just from the thought of you next to him.

matty adores you. you’re everything. and right now he wishes you were there, giving him anything. wether you are on your knees, jerking him off or riding him, he needs something. something that’s more than his hand.

matty gives himself a tighter stroke this time, the pressure in his stomach intensifying.

on the screen the man pulls your top over your head, revealing your perfect tits. a whine leaves matty’s mouth as he speeds up his movement.

he runs his thumb over his blushed tip, panting softly at the sensation. his hips buck slightly at the contact, he is so fucking sensitive. pearly precum dribble slowly from his tip as he swirls his thumb around it. "fuck.." he whines to himself, his chest heaving with every needy breath.

his hand moves up and down his length, his hips rutting up into the movement. low moans and whimpers leave his lips as he thought of you, your soft hair, polite smile and gentle demeanour, how he wishes you were in there now, fucking yourself onto his twitching cock. "shit, darling.. " he moans, his hips picking up speed as he fucks up into his fist.

matty’s completely gone now.

head tipped back, eyes shut tight, mouth hanging open while listening to your moans. his fist moves fast and slick, hips stuttering up into it without rhythm, just chasing the high like it’s the only thing tethering him to the earth.

and in his head, it’s you.

it’s always you.

your voice. your body. the memory of your mouth on him, warm and soft and smug because you know he’ll fall apart for you every single time.

he doesn’t hear the door open.

doesn’t hear the click of your heels or the soft shuffle of your coat hitting the floor.

but he hears you, that voice, just as he moans your name again like a prayer, like a curse.

“really?”

your voice rings through the quiet like a shot, and his eyes snap open.

“f-fuck! darling, i, erm-“ he stutters, hand frozen mid-stroke, eyes wide, cheeks flushed deeper than he’s ever felt before. “shit, i didn’t know- i didn’t hear the-i wasn’t-“

he scrambles to grab a cushion, but he’s too far gone, boxers still pushed down, hand still wrapped around himself, and the tv behind him is playing you, riding your scene partner like you’re starving for it, panting into his neck, nails dragging down his chest. the sound of it fills the room.

you step closer, arms crossed, head tilting to one side as you watch the screen over his shoulder.

your grin grows.

“oh, so it’s this scene,” you say, like you’ve just caught him with his hand in the biscuit tin, voice syrupy and amused. “knew you were obsessed, but this is a new low, matty.”

he groans from somewhere deep in his throat and covers his eyes with the back of his arm like he might die on the spot.

“i’m sorry,” he breathes. “i swear, i didn’t mean to- i just missed you, and it was right there and-fuck, you looked so good and i couldn’t-“

“uh-huh.” your voice is laced with something teasing now, “you’re apologizing, but you haven’t taken your hand off your dick, babe.”

he freezes again, blinking up at you, caught between shame and the unbearable ache still pulsing through him.

you kneel on the edge of the couch, one brow raised, eyes drifting lazily between his red face, his heaving chest, and the absolutely incriminating footage still playing on the screen. your on-screen self lets out a moan that makes matty’s hips twitch helplessly.

you lean in, just a little. close enough that he smells your perfume. close enough to watch the way his lips tremble.

“go on, then,” you say, “don’t stop on my account.”

“what?” he asks, looking for any hint of irony but there’s none of it.

“show me what you do when i’m not there.”

“jesus christ,” he whispers, head falling back again, eyes fluttering shut as he starts moving his hand again, shakier now, more desperate. “just needed you so bad.”

you just hum, settling in beside him on the couch, resting your chin on your palm, watching like it’s the best thing you’ve seen all day.

“can see that.”

his hand moves and his hips jerk up, just a little.

he doesn’t say anything, just obeys.

you watch his hand and the way his stomach trembles. you hear the slick sound of spit, already there.

he’s shaking. breathing fast.

on screen, you let out a low, wrecked moan.

matty shudders like it hit him in the chest.

“were you close before i got here?”

he nods. too fast.

you hum, “let’s turn this off.” you take the remote and turn the screen off until it’s black.

you reach over and knock his hand away without asking. it falls useless to the side, fingers twitching.

he gasps, hips jerking up like he can still chase the rhythm.

his eyes snap to yours. wide, wet. begging.

“baby,” he breathes. “please don’t... i was- so-.”

you hum like you’re thinking about it, fingers trailing along the inside of his thigh. you watch him flinch.

his mouth falls open like he’s about to sob.

“oh, you’re so pathetic,” you murmur, “calm down. don’t even deserve anything,” you add, still calm. “but i’ll help you anyway. just this once.”

“please,” he breathes, hips twitching up like he can’t help it. “please, baby, i- i won’t do it again, i swear, just- just touch me, yeah?”

you hum, curling your fingers around the base of his cock. he’s soaked, leaking and red and achingly hard, slick already dripping over your knuckles from where he couldn’t help himself.

“messy boy,” you mutter, stroking him once, slow. he sobs. actually sobs.

“fuck, that’s- god, you’re so- i can’t-“ he babbles, writhing under your touch. his thighs are trembling like he’s on the edge already, just from a single stroke.

you keep your pace agonizingly slow, dragging your palm over the head, smearing pre-cum around while he pants and moans like it’s killing him.

“thought you’d be patient for me,” you muse, letting your thumb glide under the tip, “but no. had to touch yourself like a filthy little thing.”

matty nods frantically, as if agreeing will somehow earn him mercy. “i know, i know- i’m a fucking mess, i couldn’t wait, i needed you so bad, baby, please-“

“didn’t even try to be good.” your voice is harder now, your grip tightening. his hips stutter and you squeeze a little, just to watch his mouth fall open around a choked sound.

“i’ll be good now,” he swears, whiny and breathless. “promise. promise i will, just- don’t stop.”

you stroke him harder, faster now, and he’s falling apart for you- one hand in your hair, the other gripping the couch again like he might float away.

“say thank you,” you whisper, leaning in just close enough that your breath hits his lips.

he chokes. “thank you, fuck, thank you, thank you, please don’t stop, i’m gonna- gonna come-“

“don’t you dare,” you go slower again and almost stop touching him, “you won’t until i say so, understand?”

he whines and that’s where you stop.

“understand?” you try again.

he nods too quickly, desperate. wide eyes staring up at you like you hung the fucking moon.

“yes,” he whimpers, voice cracking. “yes, baby, please- please, i’ll be good- i’ll wait-“

your hand strokes him faster again, just once, and he bucks into it like he can’t stop himself, biting down on his bottom lip so hard it goes white. his head falls back, neck exposed, curls damp with sweat. he’s glowing and ruined and so close.

“look at you,” you murmur, watching him unravel, “so desperate you’re shaking.”

he lets out a little broken sound halfway between a moan and a sob and rocks his hips up again, chasing friction, chasing anything. he’s trembling under you now, holding back like it hurts.

“don’t even think about it,” you whisper against his lips, kissing him gently a sharp contrast to the slow torment of your hand still working him just enough to make his eyes roll back. “you don’t come unless i say.”

“please,” he chokes, kissing you back like he needs it to breathe. “please, darling, i need- i can’t- i’m trying.”

you kiss him again, open-mouthed, soft tongue and teeth, and he moans into your mouth like he’ll die if you don’t let him finish. every part of him is tight, clenched, aching. thighs twitching. abs trembling.

“shh.” you hush him, pressing another kiss to his lips, then his jaw, then his throat. “you’re doing so good for me. just a little longer.”

his cock twitches in your hand and he sobs your name, every muscle in his body straining to obey, to be good.

“you’ll wait for me,” you say, not a question. a command. “you want to be good, don’t you?”

he nods violently, teary-eyed, completely falling apart.

“yes, yes, promise.”

his whole body’s trembling now though, thighs taut, chest rising and falling like he’s been running. your hand keeps moving, dragging slick and heat over him while he struggles not to fuck up into your palm.

“fuck, please,” he pants, voice so high it’s nearly cracking. “please, babe. cant- i can’t.”

“you can.” you shush him, voice smooth, fingers steady. “you will.”

matty’s shaking his head before you even finish the sentence, curls sticking to his temples, lip bitten red raw. “no, no, i swear i can’t- feels too good, baby, it’s too- too much-“

you just watch him. totally calm, like you haven’t got his entire world crumbling in your hand.

then, without warning, you pick up the pace, hand stroking him too fast and it knocks the wind out of him.

“jesus christ- oh fuck, fuck-“ he jerks violently, hips stuttering up into your grip. “please, let me come- please, love, i’ll do anything- i’ll be good, promise, swear down.”

you lean in, kiss the corner of his mouth, slow and pointed. he whimpers at the contact, like your lips alone could undo him.

“s’a shame,” you murmur, breath warm against his cheek. “would’ve loved to have my mouth on you.”

he lets out a sob.

“but no,” you go on, “you couldn’t behave, could you?”

“i tried,” he whines, hands gripping the couch cushions like his life depends on it. “i swear i fucking tried- just missed you so much, couldn’t, couldn’t help it, i’m sorry-“

“yeah? sorry now that you’re not getting what you really want?” your hand’s still working him, fast and ruthless, and it’s got him thrashing like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. “should’ve waited. could’ve had me recreating that little scene.”

“please!” he nearly yells it now, voice cracking with it, head thrown back. “please, please- just let me come, i’ll do anything, babe, anything-“

his thighs are trembling so hard he can barely hold himself upright. he’s flushed down to his chest, covered in sweat, lip trembling.

you feel him start to twitch, right there at the edge, and finally, finally, you hum, “go on, then.”

and he falls apart.

makes the loudest fucking noise you’ve ever heard out of him, full-body shudder, thighs locking up, back arched, moaning your name over and over like a prayer. he comes hard, all over your hand and his stomach, whimpering through it like he’s been edged for hours.

“thank you, thank you, thank you,” he whispers all over again like a polite boy.

his body collapses back into the cushions, wrecked, twitching, chest heaving. he looks up at you with glassy eyes, fucked out and grateful and so in love.

you kiss him soft, sweet, a hand in his curls.

“there you go,” you murmur, “come here.”

his head dropps into your lap, cheeks flushed pink, lashes still damp. his chest rises and falls like he’s still catching up, little aftershocks making his muscles twitch every now and then.

you card your fingers through his curls, slow and gentle, nails scratching lightly against his scalp. he melts into it, hums low in his throat, like it’s the only thing tethering him to the planet.

“you alright, baby?” you murmur, thumb brushing along his temple.

he gives a slow, sleepy nod, eyes fluttering half-open. “mhm. fuckin’ wrecked.”

you smile, watching the way his lips curve at the edges even when he’s not trying. “you look it.”

he laughs, rubbing his cheek a little more into your thigh like he’s trying to burrow there. “d’you always have to sound so smug when i’m like this?”

you grin. “can’t help it. you make it easy.”

your fingers move back into his hair, twirling one of the curls around your finger lazily.

“still so fucking pretty, y’know that?” you say as you look down at him, “you looked unreal like that. all needy and begging and desperate for me.”

matty groans, hides his face against your thigh. “don’t say it like that, fucks sake.”

“why not?” you laugh, shifting slightly so you can tilt his chin up, make him look at you. “s’true. nearly lost it just from my hand. imagine how you’d be if i actually-”

he cuts you off with a low whine, eyes wide and pleading now. “darling.”

“what?” you’re playing innocent, but the smile on your face betrays you. “can’t take the compliment?”

he huffs, but he’s smiling too, blinking slow and content now, like he’s floating.

“you’re crazy,” he mutters, voice slurred a bit, still post-bliss.

you lean down and press a kiss to his forehead, then his nose. “love you.”

“yeah,” he admits, soft. “love you too.”

you stroke his cheek with your knuckles, watching the way he leans into your touch without thinking. “you did good, baby.”

his lashes flutter. “yeah?”

“mhm. my good boy,” you hesitate, “well i suppose at the end. let’s not talk about your impatience.”

his breath catches like that alone could undo him again.

you just keep petting through his hair, letting the silence stretch out. it’s just the two of you. his head on your lap, your fingers in his hair, everything slowed down and safe again.

and in that moment, matty’s never looked more beautiful.

[wrestletotheground]

snap out of it - ross macdonald x reader

your boyfriend helps ease the tension when you're feeling stressed..

cw: 18+ minors dni!! smut, dom!ross, f!sub!reader, kitchen sex, fingering, d word, unprotected sex, p in v, orgasm denial, stomach bulging, squirting, degradation, lowkey kinda toxic but in a hot way <3

wc: 2.4k

~

you're walking- no. storming around the house like a raging bull. for what reason you don't even know. maybe it's the party you're hosting tomorrow, and the fact the house is an absolute mess.

you've woken up in such a mood, feeling like you're going crazy when every little inconvenience is piling up and fuelling the fire. there was no hot water in the shower, you burnt your toast for breakfast, and you're now running around in a frenzy trying to sort everything as if you're being hunted for sport. feminine rage, if you will.

you're muttering under your breath, picking through the piles of clutter in the kitchen when you're startled by your boyfriend placing a hand on your lower back. you jump, so lost in your thoughts that you didn't hear him coming.

'hi baby, whatcha doing?' he asks, wrapping his arm around your waist before you step away from him, rolling your eyes at his cheerful tone.

'ross, i'm sorry, I love you, but fuck off, I've so many things to do I don't need you distracting me, I've been cleaning all day and the place still looks the same and URGGH,' you practically scream, holding your head in your hands.

guilt washes over you, realising you've just essentially snapped at him over nothing, but you're too worked up to backtrack now. you continue what you were doing, ignoring ross' eyes burning a hole into the back of your head. you lift an empty wine bottle from the table to clear it away and start cursing under your breath when you notice it's left a stain that you're gonna have to sort out on top of everything else.

'darling you're too stressed over this, there's no need, just take a break and chill out, yeah?' rage pumps through your body. even though you know he's just trying to help, you can sense an undertone - an edge - in his voice that would usually have you on your knees already, but right now, you're in no mood for it.

'no, look, I've been putting it off it's just- there's so much to do, I'll be fine, okay?' it comes out more frantic and loud than you anticipated, making his face crease in concern. he puts a hand on your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks.

'look at me,' he orders. you sigh and turn to look up at him, heart still pounding partly from the stress and now also from the intense look in his eyes. his hands are warm and heavy on your waist now, gripping onto you like you'd float away if he let go.

'I'm gonna fuck you until you calm down and you can't think of anything else but my name, and you're gonna fucking take it'.

okay, maybe you are in the mood for it. your stomach flutters and you nod silently, feeling like a lamb under the thumb of a lion. his soft yet demanding tone always makes you so turned on you give in immediately. 'there we go darling, daddy's gonna make you feel better, hm?' he says as one hand comes up to wrap around your neck, pushing in gently.

that word sends a rush of excitement coursing through you, and you manage to get out a strangled mix between 'yes' and a moan. you'll be good for him if it's the last thing you do, and you're so riled up you're already starting to channel that rage into desire.

you go to start towards the bedroom before he grabs you roughly, stopping you in your tracks yet again. 'where do you think you're going honey? you're gonna take it here like a good pet.' his tone is stern. 'but the-,' he cuts you off by slapping his palm on the side of your jaw, grabbing your chin and forcing eye contact. you feel a pulsing heat building in your core.

'do what you're told or I'll leave you here, I know you're fucking soaked for me already, clenching your thighs when I haven't even touched you,' he smirks, and you flush when you realise you've been inadvertently squeezing your legs together in a futile attempt to relieve yourself.

the thought of him taking you right here in the kitchen drives you crazier than you'd like to admit. the big sliding glass door that leads onto the garden is only a few yards away, giving any nosy neighbours a full show, but he doesn't seem to mind and you're already too desperate to stop now.

he hooks a finger through the belt loops on either side of your jeans and uses them to pull you forward, making you stumble into him. 'take these off for me darling,' he orders, breath ghosting over the side of your face as he tries to keep his composure.

you fumble around with buttons and zips until they're pooled around your ankles, stepping out and crashing your lips onto his with one hand already gripping the hair at the back of his neck. your tongues melt together, pure lust radiating off one another.

he toys with the hem of your shirt blindly until you get the hint and break away from him to throw it behind you. his breath catches in his throat and he can't help himself from grabbing at your tits instantly, pupils dilated beyond belief as he stares at them in awe. you giggle to yourself, tracing your fingertips under his tshirt and up and down his sides.

he gives you a questioning look. 'you're such a boy,' you laugh. his stare intensifies. 'oh yeah? don't think a boy would make you feel like this, hm?' he replies, bringing a hand down between your legs to cup your pussy and dipping his index finger under the thin fabric, making you moan. 'see?' he whispers. you smile coyly and kiss him again, more passionately this time.

dripping desire pools in your underwear when he grabs you and walks you a few steps towards the kitchen counter. he turns you to face away from him and pushes down on your shoulders. you fold with his touch, straightening out your back as your chest and arms fan out over the cold marble.

with one hand pinning you onto the countertop, he uses the other to rip your wet underwear down, letting them fall to your feet before you kick them away.

goosebumps prickle across your entire body when his fingers graze over your soaked cunt. you spread your legs wider instinctively, allowing him easier access. 'so responsive for me,' he mumbles behind you. he leans over your back, moving your hair to one side to nip and suck at your neck.

without warning, he shoves two fingers inside you, making you scream out in surprise and pleasure. he instantly takes his hand away and you exhale sharply at the sudden loss of contact before it comes back to land a sharp slap on your ass. 'shut the fuck up screaming like some sort of crazy bitch, the neighbours are gonna hear you. don't want them to know how much of a little slut you are do we?' you shake your head too quickly in response, teeth digging into your bottom lip.

after a moment of letting you sit in shame, humiliation, he plunges his fingers back in; this time you know better than to make too much noise. 'good girl, I know baby, I know,' he coos, gazing down at your trembling figure as his fingers work in and out of you.

'mmplease, feel so good,' you whimper, your hips jerking into him every time his thumb swipes your aching bud. the need for release is all consuming. the effect he has on you is unparalleled by anyone else. the way he works you up so much just to watch you crumble and writhe under him is enough to make you submit to his every word.

every bend and thrust of his fingers is delicate and precise, hitting all the right spots to have you doubled over in ecstasy, leaning your whole body weight on the counter to hold yourself up. 'gonna cum, please, ross, SHIT- what the fuck,' you practically sob, your climax that was right at your fingertips being suddenly ripped away from you. the second he knew you were on the edge, he stopped, pulling out his soaked fingers and drying them on your back. your head drops downwards in frustration as the fuzzy feeling inside you dissipates.

'you don't get to cum until I fucking say so, got it?' you let out a strained 'yes' sound, more of a whimper than anything. you nod your head and let your eyes fall shut in relief when you finally hear the sound of his belt being unbuckled.

'need me to fuck you stupid so you can think straight don't you love?' he says, placing a kiss just below your ear as he pulls down the waistband of his boxers just enough to to free himself from the constraints of the tight fabric. you glance down behind you and inhale deeply at the sight of his raging erection, already leaking in his hand before he even gets you into position.

he hikes your leg up, letting it rest on his strong forearm, fingers gripping into the soft flesh inside your thigh. the air hitting your cunt makes you squirm, but you manage to keep your balance, aching for him to give you what you need.

he lines himself up and you feel yourself get wetter, dripping onto him in anticipation. he slides into you with no resistance, groaning at how wet and perfect you feel around him. the full feeling of his thick cock stretching you out makes you see stars, whining softly as he builds up to a delicious pace that practically splits you in two. 'fucking hell, so perfect, just for me,' he rambles, mind going into overdrive already. 'just for you, daddy,' you reply, knowing how feral that word makes him at the best of times.

you can slightly make out your reflection in the tiles on the wall. the distorted image shows him practically fully clothed and you bare, at his disposal to use how he wants. the sight eggs you on further, and you lean up into his chest, moaning at the new sensation of his beard tickling the side of your neck.

with the angle he's at now, he's going so deep inside you that his cock pushes out your lower stomach. you look down and nearly collapse when you see a subtle bulge just below your belly button disappear and reappear with every thrust.

ross notices it too, and trails his hand down your stomach until he feels it. something feral unlocks in his brain when he feels the bump protruding, making him groan into your ear and fuck into you harder, somehow even closer now.

'shit, you feel that? feel how well you're taking me angel?' he says, pressing in on the spot. 'fuck, yes, more, please, daddy,' you whine, gasping when he starts groping at your tits, his chin resting on your shoulder as he teeters closer and closer to the edge.

'more, huh? this not enough for you?' you shake your head, and you can feel him getting more riled up by your reaction as his cock throbs inside you.

the knot in your stomach tightens further as his right hand moves down to circle your throbbing clit. you cry out at the sensation of him all over you all at once, and it takes everything in you not to let your thighs clamp shut. his name echoes from your mouth like a prayer.

the pressure is steadily mounting inside you, and you feel like you could let go any second. 'close... mm-' he slaps his hand onto your cunt, just above where he's pumping in and out of you, making you whine. 'i told you, you're not gonna cum until I say, need to teach you some fucking manners, brat,' he punctuates the last word with another harsh tap with his fingertips before continuing agonisingly slow circles.

the sting of the slaps mixed with the soothing warmth of his touch sends you into overdrive. the cold countertop digs into your palms, using it as leverage to push yourself impossibly further into him, following his pace carefully.

'jesus christ, ross, fuck, please let me cum,' you moan through gritted teeth. you don't think you've ever been this worked up, with him denying you of your orgasm twice already. you feel wound up, like a ticking time bomb that could explode any minute, and fuck, you need to, but you'll strain yourself to the last second to please him.

your core is on fire, warmth spreading all over your body, you can nearly hear the ringing in your ears already and you're about to start begging again before he snaps you out of your head. 'go on. cum all over daddy's cock, that's it- shit,' he curses when you clench tightly around him, the coil in your stomach finally snapping. you cry out as you gush all over him, little squirts splashing from you onto the floor in time with his movements. you grab onto him, pushing his hand onto your clit harder to work you through your high, the head rush like nothing you've ever felt before. it's electric, like a static current washing over you as your whole body convulses.

when he sees the pool of your slick shining on the tiled floor, it's over for him. his groans get louder and with one final push and a 'FUCK,' he tips over the edge, pulsing inside you and painting your pussy white.

your head feels hazy as you catch your breath, slowly coming back to reality. you barely register what's happened with the euphoria lingering in your body. 'did I...' you look down at the mess you made and realise you just squirted all over the kitchen and desecrated ross' hand and jeans in the process. 'fuck, that was so hot, i'm- christ,' he laughs, his head dropping onto your shoulder in disbelief.

'thank you,' you whisper. the stress that's been weighing on your chest all day has completely disappeared, but you're so fucked out you can't find any more words. he lets out a breathy laugh and braces you as he pulls out gently, holding you upright as you stand on two feet again.

'you were right, I'm not stressed anymore,' you smile, placing a soft kiss on his lips before starting to redress. 'daddy's always right,' he teases, a cheeky grin spread across his face.

~

[lovefoolholland]

santa doesn’t know you like i do

summary: in which matty tells you you are everything he wants.

warnings: angst, but honestly not much.

a/n: felt inspired by sabrina’s fruitcake. hopefully a first of many christmas’ short one shots.

English is not my first language !

The moment Matty had started growing facial hair, everyone knew. They just knew, it was obvious, that you finally had him entranced and with no sign of turning back.

“You would look really good with a beard” and just a man in love would follow through and through to show you how much he listens to you.

But how come— when he looks at you from afar all lovey-dovey, takes you by the waist when talking to other people, and tells everyone he wrote songs about you mid-concert— the two of you hadn’t made it official?

And here you stand, in the middle of a Christmas Eve party at Charli’s and George’s, taking a sip of eggnog while Matty is lively talking to his bandmates, and you’re just there. Alone.

Maybe it’s your boring white Rory Gilmore sweater. Maybe it’s your blurred lipstick from earlier, after you kissed Matty’s tears away from his cheeks right after he told you about Pitchfork naming him Villain of the Year. Or maybe it’s the eggnog that’s making you a little dizzy.

You put the glass down and take a glass of water from the kitchen. That is when you feel a pair of familiar hands around your waist, making you put the glass on the counter and whip your head to the side with a smile.

“Hey gorgeous” Matty says with his usual raspy, (goddamn) sexy voice tone.

“Hi,” you say in response “what’s up?”

“Just wanted to see how my girl was doing,” he tells you, kissing your cheek and making your face grow hot “let’s go talk to the guys, okay?”

“Okay” you answer softly.

He guides you back to his circle and this time around things go more swiftly than before. You have always gotten along with Matty’s friends, but it was just that situationship factor that didn’t make you feel good around them. Like, why was Matty keeping you there if you weren’t, at least officially, his girlfriend? He’d never asked you the question, he’d never hinted at it at least, he just introduced you to new people as ‘Y/N, my friend.’

“Can I go home with you after the party?”

Matty scrunched up his nose at your question.

“Of course. Why are you asking? You always stay at mine, right?”

You gave him a weak smile and nodded.

“Yeah… Just needed to get sure.”

Matty immediately noted the way you weren’t comfortable at all, you saw it in the way his eyes shifted from confused to harshness.

“Come on, let’s just go now.”

“What? No, you’re having a great time now.”

“But clearly you’re not,” Matty says a little louder than expected, and you lift your head from his to look around with a small frown “why do you care if someone hears us?”

“I don’t– Just, come on, let’s go talk somewhere more private.”

Taking his hand on yours, you drag him to one of the empty bedrooms, closing the door behind you with a sigh.

“I’d be making a joke about you wanting to get me alone and shit, but honestly you’re scaring me a bit” Matty commented, furrowing his brow as he took your other hand in his.

“I’m okay just…” you sighed “Matty, what are we?”

There it was, the question that would probably scare him away. For good or for bad, it had to be asked.

“What do you mean?” Matty asked, even more confused.

“I mean… Are we boyfriend and girlfriend? Friends with benefits? Friends that sometimes hook up?”

Matty put his lips in a thin line before answering.

“Y/N, we started this because you wanted just to fuck.”

That makes your heart drop, and you have to fight the urge to sigh in defeat.

“Yeah, I know, but it’s been almost a year, and… I mean… I like being with you.” you explain to him, biting your lip slightly before continuing talking “We go on dates and we have clothes at each other’s apartments. We’re close. We’re not just a couple of people that want to fuck anymore!”

Matty was startled by the way your voice had risen and your cheeks were starting to get red from frustration. And so were you, but you didn’t care, this needed to be finally solved.

“Babe, breathe.”

“Breathe? How do you want me to breathe?!” you asked him, slipping your hands off his to put them in your head “I think I have the right to say that out of the people in that room, I know you better than anyone. We’ve been through each other’s good and bad Matty, why… Can’t I be the one to give you everything you want?”

Matty immediately steps up to you and takes your hands off your head, placing them on his chest so you can feel just how warm he is. His eyes pierce into yours and then you feel it. His heartbeat, going a hundred times a minute. It makes you flustered that just like that, he can calm you down, but once more, it perfectly shows how good he knows you.

One or two curls fall onto his forehead as he looks straight into you and starts talking. You curse in your head that even in this time and place he looks freaking gorgeous.

“Y/N, I didn’t make anything official because you never told me you wanted to make it official,” you open your mouth to argue but he doesn’t let you speak “no, don’t argue against that. Communication is the key if we want something formal between the two of us, and God knows I’ve been craving to be with you and brag about you ever since you asked me to be your fuckfriend, but I didn’t do it because I thought you didn’t want to.”

You gulp and frown. It is true, the two of you didn’t communicate clearly with one another.

“Yeah, you are… Right,” you say with a sigh, squeezing his hands in yours for reassurance. He does the same in response and that makes you blush in a soft manner “why didn’t you say anything though?”

Matty raises an eyebrow.

“Did you just see yourself? You were almost breaking this off.”

“What?! No I wasn’t!”

“Yes you were,” Matty said, a small smile on his lips “you’re neurotic sometimes babe.”

“Oh shut up.”

“Make me.”

In a swift and quick move, you land a kiss on his lips, and when you pull back with a smirk, he puts a hand on your neck and pulls you in to devour your lips fervently, but quickly, leaving you dizzy as he pulls back.

“There,” he says, smiling widely now as he watches your eyes blurry with love and happiness “happy?”

“Very much.”

Matty smiles and grabs you in a hug, squeezing your body against his as you huff out a ‘I hate you’ and he murmurs a ‘And I love you’. After pulling back you hook your arms on his neck and he puts his hands on your waist.

“Oh and Y/N?” he asks in a whisper.

“What?”

Matty leans in, kisses your cheek and says to your ear:

“You are the one that can give me everything I want.”

[ro-writesstuff]

office hours - collegeau!professor!matty healy

minors do not interact, all fics are 18+

summary: you look at your professor a little too long and he catches you.

content warning: smut, professor / student relationship (consensual)

there you were, legs spread out across the desk as your boyfriend slid his hand down your skirt.

"think you could just stare at me all class like that, hmm?"

yes it was true, you were staring at your professor all class long; his clothes were tailored just right to fit his muscular body and the way he kept pushing his thick, unruly hair back as he explained the lesson for the day, passing out papers and tests as his rounded glasses slid to the edge of his nose, and how his hand and fingers gripped around the marker with such force and concentration that you had to squeeze your legs together just to stay concentrated.

but he knew you too well. he’d seen your poor attempts at controlling yourself, shifting and moving anstily around in you seat, thighs tensing ever so slightly when he so much as walked near you.

“thought I couldn’t tell you wanted me the second you walked into my classroom?”

"matty i said i was-"

he tsked, disappointed. the sensation you’d been wanting all class long started to dissipate as his fingers slid out of you, hips bucking against the ghost of his fingers. "you know i hate informalities, ms. y/l/n," he gripped your chin lovingly, eyes burning into yours.

“said i was s-sorry," you stuttered, "professor healy."

"that's good, princess. very good." his lips attached to yours neck as he drove his fingers into you, causing your fingernails to dig into his firm shoulders.

hand gripping the desk as his nimble fingers worked in and out of you, you could feel your wetness pool on the wood.

his fingers worked quicker in and out, you feeling the rough tips of his fingers touch your spongy walls. the burning sensation in your lower stomach started to rise, the feeling becoming stronger as your body starting to tense. just as the knot was coming undone, you tensed around nothingness.

your chest heaved as you opened your eyes to find him sucking your juices off his fingers.

“oh i’m not getting you off that easy, pretty girl.”

annoyance rose to your chest as matty leaned into you. why did he have to be so mean?

a chuckle rumbled deep in his chest. "oh, darling. 'm not mean, hmm?"

shit. had you said that out loud?

he places a kiss on your cheek, "just teaching you how to behave in my class, love."

[man-im-so-high]

kimi writer era i am SEATED.

for the prompts!!!!: “You pretending that cushion is me?”

//EMPTY BED// - m.h. x reader

warnings: none! pure fluff!

w/c: 1k words

a/n: this is my first official blurb!! i'm shitting my pants posting this 💀 ANYWAYS THANKS JAYE FOR BEING MY FIRST REQUEST ILYSM

//masterlist//

the clock kept ticking, driving you mad.

on the one hand whenever there's shitty moments or nothing happening at all, time won't pass - it stretches like gum. on the other hand, the good moments pass way too quickly. time itself is pacing, always.

right now time won't pass though.

you've been alone at matty’s concrete bunker of a home for a month already now. the longer you spend your time here, the more you realize that it's actually quite cozy somehow. everything in itself seems cold and harsh but together it creates some sort of comfortable, relaxing and balanced atmosphere.

but without matty it's once again cold and harsh. it's like the whole house loses its charm when he's not here.

the bed is colder than usual, everything is quiet - no music playing from his vinyl player, no typing on the typewriter, no jamming on his guitar, nothing - there's no smell of pancakes in the kitchen, the bathroom doesn't smell like his perfume and there is no mess. you're surprised that a thing that usually pisses you off has now become something you miss.

so here you are, on his couch, cuddling with a pillow while the TV is on in the background. there's some sort of reality tv show on but you didn't pay attention to it, you just need noise, the feeling of not being alone.

matty is currently on tour in north america. with you having to stay in london, seeing him is nearly impossible. only nearly though, but seeing him on facetime or hearing his voice on a simple call is surprisingly very hard as well.

on his days off it's easier. he's more flexible with his time management when there is no huge concert at night with the sound checks and everything beforehand.

he's currently in new york, playing one of their biggest shows ever tonight. he's excited, you know that. he has been excited for months now, basically ever since he found out that they could play there.

“i can't wait, oh my god. i will literally- explode!”

“on stage?”

“fuck yes i will, just imagine: we play sex and i just explode.”

“twitter would eat that up.”

“right?!”

but he has also been worried.

worried because it's a huge venue, worried because it's being recorded, worried because you're not there to calm his mind.

you glance at the TV - advertising, of course. you peek over at your phone. it's 3:24 am. usually you'd be lying in bed together at this time, cuddling, in deep sleep.

but right now the bed is cold - ice cold - and the cool concrete walls don't make it any better. you love this place but it's not the same without him.

you calculate in your mind. he's in new york, you're in london so the concert must be over by now. thus the waiting continues.

you look back to the tv. the reality tv show is over and now there's some sitcom playing. it's friends! finally, something funny to help you pass time.

a few minutes pass and your phone lights up. 3:31am.

“hey, you awake?”

another text

“concert’s over”

you instantly grab your phone.

“i'm awake! hope you had fun xx”

he quickly answers and asks:

“you wanna ft when i'm at the hotel?”

“of course :))”

finally you decide to turn off the TV and let silence and darkness take over the room. you take the cushion you've been lying on and holding and make your way up to the bedroom.

instantly, you miss matty. he's a living heater - and a comfortable one to say the least.

so when you lay back down, you lay on the cushion as if you were lying on matty's chest. if you squeeze your eyes shut, just enough, then you can almost hear his heartbeat. or maybe it's just your lack of sleep, who knows.

the tiredness comes creeping in, a yawn escapes your lips. in the same moment your phone lights up.

a facetime call by no other than matty.

happily you pick up.

“good morning, sunshine” an exhausted smile on his lips. he's happy to see you but the weariness from performing is evident.

his hair is damp, he probably just came out of the shower.

he's in bed as well, the bedside table lamp illuminating his face with a warm light from the side, throwing soft shadows on his face.

“good night” you tiredly greet him, a smile adorning your face when you see him.

“how was the concert?”

“oh it was great!” he started to ramble about the crowd, how the band harmonized, how the security and the whole team was great and how everything was perfect.

his soft voice and his endless talking could send you to sleep right then and there-

“hey! no sleeping yet! tell me about your day… or night.”

“uh, i didn't do anything special. i just laid around and was on my phone, i watched some TV and laid on this cushion because you're not there.” you point at the cushion that you're currently lying on.

matty seems to recognize the way you're lying on the cushion.

“wait, wait, wait, are you pretending that cushion is me?”

“maybe, i did. but then i had to realize it's a better cuddler than you are.” you tease him.

he laughs at that. “you're just saying that because you already forgot how good i am.”

a loud yawn leaves your mouth.

“is someone getting tired?” he chuckles and grins. you're so cute when you're tired.

“what do you expect? it's late.”

“get some sleep, sleepyhead.”

“can you stay on the phone with me?”

his grin grows even wider, he could melt at your cuteness.

“of course i will.”

a short moment of silence.

“so, what do you want me to do?”

“i don't know, just talk. tell me a story or something.”

and that's what he does. he knows you know all the stories, he loves talking - you love listening. he talks and talks, his voice almost as soft as the cushion you're resting on, slowly lulling you to sleep.