#this became less linecook!au and more regular matty and george lol

[lottiecrabie]

in the linecook au either ross or george finding you and matty and joining in especially if its the end of the shift and they were supposed to go out and then trying to act like nothing happened but secretly exchanging glances all evening

OMG I SWEAR YOU GOT ME BLUSHING🫣 giggling to myself kicking my feet this is too good

okay, so matty is eating you out in the middle of the pantry (not before making some really obnoxious puns about ‘eating his meal’ and ‘where else can he find his food’). you sit on some crates and he kneels before you. there’s something ecstatic about the sight; a powerful man, angry and controlled and all-knowing, on his knees for you. a shiver passes through your shoulders, rolling your eyes into your skull.

it’s late at night so you’re not being exactly quiet, racking a hand through his curls and moaning freely. he’s got this fucking starved technique, licking at you with such hunger, trying to devour you like his favorite meal. your legs tremble, wrapping around his head, thighs threatening to suffocate him. he’s unbothered; he rubs your clit with only more enthusiasm, dipping long, spindly fingers inside of you, curling them just so.

you grip the shelves behind you, trying to hold onto something for dear life. pressure builds inside your stomach. you’re about to— you’re right— you scream, opening your eyes to warn matty.

instead, you find george staring at you, standing frozen in the door. his eyes are dark, traveling over your flushed face, your opened thighs, matty’s face buried between. your lips part in shock, ready to warn matty when—

matty flicks his tongue pointedly and it’s too late. you fall apart, stars spreading beneath your eyelids, screaming, ‘george!’

you try to catch your breath. matty arches an eyebrow under you, unimpressed, pissed. you flick your eyes beyond him. george is still there, clenching his jaw.

matty turns around. realization dawns on him as he catches the sight of his friend. he ups his chin at him, grinning. ‘hey, mate.’ mischievously, he takes his fingers out of you. a quiet whimper slips through your lips, but you bite it down vengefully. now that you’re not swimming in the dazed waters of pure, unfiltered euphoria, embarrassment climbs up your spine. you flush bright red, trying to push matty out of your still parted thighs.

instead, matty brandishes the two slick fingers to george, wiggling them as wetness strings between them. you die on the spot, surely. die and come back to your body just to live through all of it again. some divine punishment.

matty smirks, ‘want a taste?’

your heart skips a beat. george’s eyes lock with yours, still silent. too silent. what is he thinking under that impenetrable gaze of his? all that intensity only makes him more handsome. tall and big and sharp; a hazard you want to risk. telltale excitement drips between your thighs. the instinct of closing them rings in your head, but they’re still shamelessly hanging from matty’s shoulders.

‘c’mon, george,’ matty says now, egging him on. ‘it’s fucking sweet.’ as if to prove his point, he sucks one finger into his mouth, moaning exaggeratedly as he twists his tongue around it. he pops it out, smiling boyishly.

‘matty,’ george warns, voice low and gravely. you shiver at the sound, wanting him to say your name in that tone. needing it.

matty turns back to you, tsking. ‘guess he doesn’t want it, princess. oh well.’ he makes a move to stick the second one in his mouth, but george’s crowding his space the next second, gripping his wrist. matty laughs, mocking mastermind.

staring at you, he wraps his lips around matty’s wet middle finger. the sight is sinful. you moan, clenching around matty’s face.

‘think she likes it, mate,’ he says, teasing. ‘think she likes you.’ matty bites at your thigh, making you look down at him. ‘do you?’

you swallow. flick between the two men. thrill dances under your skin, sensing the incoming events. ‘yes.’

matty smiles, tapping your leg proudly. he stands from between them, wiggling two eyebrows to his friend.

george is still looking at you like he’s convinced he’s making you up in his mind. he trails two fingers on your naked thigh, making you shiver, when he says, ‘can’t believe you’ve been fucking her this whole time.’

‘jealous?’

‘maybe.’ his fingers adventure higher, tough callouses on the tip of them. ‘how is she?’

a blush spreads across your cheeks. shyness and embarrassment and the contrasting need pump in your veins. you should feel— you should be ashamed. instead, your thighs part instinctively, practically showing yourself on display.

‘tooth-rotting sweet. makes these pretty little noises, like she’s—‘

‘matty!’ you scold.

he looks down at you condescendingly, shushing. ‘we’re not talking to you, baby.’ he turns back to george. ‘sugary moans, but then when you find the right spot, rub just the right way, man, she screams.’

‘yeah,’ george nods, finding the apex of your thighs. you gasp, all the air of the room sucking in. ‘i heard that.’

he rubs at your clit with no shyness, almost familiar, like he memorized the spots when it was matty circling them with his tongue. like he was diligently learning.

it’s got the desired effect. your head falls back on the shelves, rolling your hips into his fingers. a loud moan spills from your lips.

‘see?’ matty laughs.

‘yes,’ george says, rubbing faster to make stringed pearls of whines fall from your mouth. ‘fucking sweet.’

matty smiles proudly, caressing your hair. you lean into the motion, practically purring. ‘perfect girl,’ he coos at you. you nod, head slack. ‘you’re beautiful.’

a happy giggle leaves you, distorted by a high-pitched yell as george slips two long fingers inside of you. the stretch is tight, bigger than matty’s. you scrunch your face, breathing out, ‘shit, george.’

he curls them, thrusting in and out, smirking smugly at his friend. ‘i think your girl likes me best.’

matty slaps his shoulder. ‘piss off.’

george laughs, bending down to you. ‘you do, right? tell him.’ as though to plead his case, he slips in and out faster, digging his free hand into the meat of your thigh.

‘you’re a dickhead.’

‘and your girl wants the dick and the head.’ a snort bursts out of you. even matty huffs some smothered laugh, shaking his head.

‘she’s got a rule about puns when you’re inside of her, by the way.’

george arches an eyebrow. ‘how many have you made to warrant the placing of a rule.’

out of breath, you giggle, ‘too many.’

‘i can’t stop being hilarious. it’s part of me.’

george rolls his eyes, unconvinced. he fucks into you faster. a telltale pressure builds into you. feeling the edge of the cliff teeter under your toes, you grip george’s forearm, digging your claws in the tattooed skin.

‘let’s give him a show,’ george coos. ‘show him how it’s really done.’

‘oi!’

with a laugh, your eyes roll back, pleasure gathering in a tight, coiling ball, then blasting free. it wipes through your limbs. you shake, screaming, clawing at george’s arm.

matty’s caressing hand on your head soothes you back down. you grin lazily, body loose.

‘you did so good,’ matty promises, kissing your jaw. ‘so, so good for us.’

george slips his fingers out of you, sucking them into his mouth and licking them clean. ‘fuck.’

‘well, don’t get too obsessed.’

matty helps you down from the crate, lowering your skirt back. the floor seems to ripple under you. he takes you by the cheek, kissing your forehead. dropping an arm around your shoulder, he turns back to george. ‘how about that beer, then?’