Chapter 18

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

fighting with my sheets - matty healy

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And you never found that fucking earring.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Such a good boy, Daddy. You ready?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Only for you.”

One of there best songs going ❤️

The 1975 — Jesus Christ 2005 God Bless America

The masculine urge just to sit on his knee when he’s sat like this is insane ❤️🥹

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

Sobbing 😭

Just read your reply to an ask about a fix of matty singing them to sleep and the suggestion/idea of fictional Matty singing fictional George or vice versa to sleep has me wanting to eat my hand and sob (in a good way) 😭

The best way to deal with your self imposed stress of not finishing a fic by your self dictated deadline is obviously to work on a different one 😂 I felt really bad that I wasn't able to fill that one prompt request for that anon looking for a matty x reader blurb where he sung the reader to sleep (I don't see myself ever writing x reader fic i'm sorry!! there are so many wonderful talented people who do though! that's just not my writing niche unfortunately) ... but like was totally down to write one of him singing fictional!George to sleep, and then I saw that YOU lovely anon had sent this in in response to that ask, so obviously I had to jump it to the top of my massive list of prompt fill requests that I really do promise I will finish in 2024 lol

So, alas, here it is, Fictional!Matty sining Fictional!George to sleep. I hope you like it, if not let me know and I will attempt a take two! Thank you so much for sending this in though, and for reading, and being so lovely and supportive! I hope you have a very happy new year and a great rest of your week!

❤️Ally

Singing to sleep

George was sick, and George never got sick. Matty was at his wits end, he was the one with the shit immune system. He was the one who didn’t take care of himself and allowed his body to get run down, seeming to constantly be coming down with a perpetual case of the sniffles. George did yoga. George remembered to eat, and drank water, and got the recommended eight hours of sleep each night. He wasn’t supposed to be congested and running a fever, a trail of used tissues laid out like bread crumbs as if he would lose his way back to the bedroom without them. 

George wasn’t supposed to be arguing with Matty that he wasn’t sick when he clearly was. Shaking his head, his voice rough and nasally, insisting that he was fine even as he had to halt his argument every few minutes to cough. George was not supposed to be sick, and with a sinking realization, Matty was learning that George was an even worse patient than he was. 

“Please,” Matty begged, he knew he looked ridiculous wearing the frilly apron his Mum had gotten him as a joke when they had bought the new house and Matty had shown her the high end kitchen as if he was going to actually use it. The joke was on her, he was wearing the apron and currently trying to use the kitchen. “Please just go lay back down.” 

“I’m fine,” George rasped again before breaking off into another coughing fit, his arms wrapped around himself as he shivered. Matty glanced at the clock on the stove, it was still too soon for him to take another dose of paracetamol. 

“You are not fine!” Matty snapped, turning away from the stove and the soup that he hoped was simmering and not boiling, he wasn’t entirely sure of the difference. He waved his wooden spoon at George for dramatic effect. “You need to go lay down and get some fucking rest so you can get better!” 

George opened his mouth and Matty waved the spoon more aggressively, flicking his wrist at George. “No, no arguments, upstairs, now please, let’s go.” Matty said, nudging George’s shoulder so that he could guide him towards the staircase. 

George sighed, breaking off into another coughing fit, his shoulders shaking before doing as Matty said. He padded barefoot towards the stairs, Matty hot on his heels to make sure he actually got into bed instead of trying to snag his work laptop out of the office. The soup would be okay for a few minutes without him, Matty thought as they climbed the stairs. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was supposed to be watching for anyway, or what he was even supposed to do if it did do something. 

Realizing he was still holding the spoon, Matty sheepishly sat it down on the dresser, brushing past George to fluff up his pillows and blankets.

“Get in the bed,” he said, holding his arms out as if he was a briefcase girl on a game show.  

“You trying to take advantage of me?” George rasped, batting his eyelashes teasingly, the effect was lost though by the glassy sheen of his eyes and his dry red nose. 

“Always,” Matty deadpanned and George sighed, climbing back into bed and allowing Matty to rearrange the blankets around him while he pouted like a child.

“Now get some rest,” Matty said, leaning down one last time to press a kiss to George’s forehead, frowning when he realized just how hot it was. He turned away, planning on heading into the bathroom to get George a damp wash rag to try and cool him down some before returning to his soup when George caught his wrist. 

“Wait,” said George looking up at Matty, looking extra pathetic with his pale skin, red nose and shiny eyes. 

“I’ll be right back,” Matty assured him, his heart squeezing. “I’m just going to get you a cold rag.” 

“I’m fine,” George said again, his voice convincing absolutely no one. “But will you,” George flushed, and Matty wasn’t sure if it was from fever or embarrassment. George swallowed hard, his sore throat bobbing painfully. “Will you sing to me?”

Matty blinked, in confusion, not expecting the request. “What?” he asked dumbly and George’s blush deepened, embarrassment it is then, Matty thought fondly, his heart flipping at the request. 

“Will you sing me something?” George asked again, his eyes wide and earnest. “Please.” 

Matty exhaled slowly, he wanted to get George a cold wash rag for his forehead, and he needed to go check on his soup. But who was he to refuse George a song when he was poorly. 

“Yeah,” said Matty softly, feeling like his insides had turned to goo with just how much he loved George. “Yeah, I can sing you something.” 

His Gibson Hummingbird was leaning against a decorative chair where he had left it two days prior, and he winced, knowing he should have put it away properly but thankful for his laziness as he scooped it up, feeling silly as he quickly tuned it and sat down on the edge of the bed. 

He played the opening chord and George smiled, instantly recognizing the song. 

Tell me what you thought about

When you were gone and so alone

The worst is over

You can have the best of me

We got older but we're still young

We never grew out of this feeling that we won't give up

George was asleep, snoring softly, before Matty even finished the song. 

Matty in his Johnny Knoxville era

yours - george daniel

(mdni) thank you anon for this request i had a SPECTACULAR time with this i hope i did it justice!!

warnings: 18+, semi-public unprotected sex, degradation, praise, jealousy, bratting, slight exhibitionism

It starts the way it always does: teasing. You don’t think you've taken your eyes off George once since he left your side, always ready with a smirk or sly wink when he catches your gaze.  He’s talking to some indie darling or other, a pretty girl, really, but you can see her hand practically white-knuckling his bicep from across the room. She smiles too big and laughs too hard and you hate her, just a little bit. You can’t stop her — you have no reason to. George isn’t yours, not really. The two of you fuck. It’s not exclusive, there’s no strings, but you’re starting to realise you might have let him in one too many times, let him jam something in the door to your heart; you can’t lock it back up when he leaves anymore.

 George locks eyes with you, expression pleading, and you suppress a victorious grin and delicately lift a shoulder in his direction. This is a game you play; he loves it when you get jealous, though neither of you would admit it. You want him all to yourself, want to march over there and prise that girl’s fingers off him, demand that he never so much as look at another girl. But that would be losing, which you’re not in the habit of, so you swallow your bitter fury and wash it down with a long sip of sweet wine, staring intensely at him over the rim of your glass. The girl goes on tiptoes to whisper something to him, and he stoops low to listen, two blonde heads bending together conspiratorially. Worse, he laughs in response, not a polite, awkward chuckle, but a genuine laugh. And he doesn’t look back at you afterwards.

You drain the rest of your wine and set the glass back on the table with a too-loud thud. Making your excuses to the director? producer? you’ve been chatting with, you stroll across the room, feigned casualness becoming harder to maintain with every step. The self-congratulatory smirk on his face as you approach is aggravating. He’s won and he knows it.

“Well, hello, love. I was wondering when I’d get to chat to you,” he says, hugging you from the side and letting his hand linger low on your waist for just a moment longer than he should. “Was starting to think you were avoiding me,” he adds, voice heavy with meaning, dripping with the unsaid.

“You know I can’t keep away from you for too long,” you grin, trailing a finger down his chest. It’s hot in here, his shirt unbuttoned as much as it’s acceptable, giving you the tiniest preview of the toned chest you know so well. The other girl hasn’t said a word, but she’s still lingering, her presence an unwelcome stain on the moment blossoming around the two of you, both curbing your tongues for her benefit. “Come on, I need a refill. We can catch up at the bar.” You phrase it like a suggestion, but he knows from the way your nails dig into his arm through his suit jacket that it’s a command. He leads you away and you shoot the girl a warning glare as you go for good measure.

“You look incredible,” he murmurs low in your ear, splaying a hand at your waist. The warmth of his palm radiates through you, some Pavlovian response to the simple feel of his fingers on your skin making you suppress a shudder. 

“Thank you, darling. I guess you’re alright,” you tease. He raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Fine, you’re fucking gorgeous.” You wander over to the bar, and you let him order for the pair of you. He knows what you like, anyway. Probably better than any man on Earth.

You still keep your eyes averted, though, because you knows as soon as you meet his eyes, he’ll say, “You really didn’t want me talking to her, huh?”

You roll your eyes, feigning nonchalance. “Oh, please. You were begging me to get rid of her. Besides, tiny, pretty little thing like her? She couldn’t have handled you.” You shrug. The bartender sets two glasses of wine in front of you, one red, one white, and he takes a long sip before replying.

“Maybe you’re right. I’ll never know, now. You dragged me out of there before I could even get her name.” Smug satisfaction courses through you — you’ve got your claws firmly hooked into him, at least for tonight. You bite back the reply of ‘Good. Forget her. Forget them all,’ that springs to your lips. You’re cool, you remind yourself. You’re relaxed and chill, and you can do casual. You’re not that cliché girl who falls in love with her fuckbuddy.

He runs a finger along the edge of your jaw, dipping down to play with your necklace. “My eyes are up here, darling,” you tell him, his warm hands nauseatingly close to your traitorous, beating heart. It thuds harder, calling out to him. You pray he can’t tell that if he wanted to crack your ribs, reach in and pluck your heart from its place in your chest, that you would let him. You wouldn’t even resist.

“I know what I’m looking at,” he says. “God, you can see everything through this dress.” He raises his other hand, knuckles grazing your nipple accidentally-on-purpose, and tucks a flyaway piece of hair behind your ear.

You swallow a moan, leaning close enough to him that his breath ghosts on your face. He tilts your chin up with a thumb, parting his lips in expectation. “You’re a fucking cock-tease bitch,” you murmur with a scowl, startling him into a laugh; that endearing, high pitched cackle that shakes his shoulders near-violently. “Where the fuck do you get off, flirting with her just to piss me off? Touching me like that in public?”

One of his hands glides down to the thigh-high slit in your dress, thumbing over the skin there. Electricity races from the point his fingers touch your skin, so close to where you want them and yet miles and miles away. “You wanna play, baby? Let’s play,” you breathe, gripping his neck and crashing your lips together. It’s harsh, messy, an explosion of lips and teeth and tongues sliding together. You pull back, biting hard at his lower lip just to feel the flesh tear beneath your teeth. To leave your mark on him so that when he kisses the next girl, the sting reminds him of you.

“You’re fucking wild,” he hisses, tongue flicking over your bite mark.

You shrug. “Don’t piss me off next time.” You pat his chest and lean past him to pick up your wine glass, brushing deliberately against him. “Come find me when you’re ready to get out of here. And you’re not gonna like what I do if you try it on with one more bitch in front of my face,” you promise, turning your back to him and taking a few calculated steps away before throwing him a glance over your shoulder.

“Oh, and George? Can I tell you a secret? I’m not wearing any underwear.”

He freezes and you give a self-satisfied grin. Your victory is short-lived, though, his hand shooting out to catch you by the wrist as you try to walk away. He tugs you back towards him, and you obey easily. There was never any question that you would, really. “You’re not fucking going anywhere,” he hisses in your ear. “Come with me,” he orders, keeping your wrist in a vice-like grip as he drags you out of the room. He doesn’t look at you once the whole time he stalks down the corridor, the only sound your heels clicking against the tile as you struggle to keep pace with him.

George crowds you into a bathroom, attacking your lips the moment the door slams closed. You barely register the quiet click of the lock, letting him flip you so your back is against the door and pin your arms above your head. The second he frees your mouth you moan, trying to squirm away from his lips against your neck and collarbones, but he holds you fast. He dips his head into the valley between your breasts, licking at the skin there. “I love your fucking tits,” he says, mouthing wetly over the fabric that covers your nipple.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” you sigh, voice full of false bravado that can’t cover how weak his touch makes you. “Get on with it, or people are going to notice we’re missing,”

“Greedy girl,” George chastises, but his eyes shine with want and his hard cock presses against you through his trousers. He steps back, and your whole body mourns the loss of his skin against yours, aching for him. “Bend over for me, baby,” he orders, a bolt of lust striking you. He knows acutely that all he has to do is tack on for me? and you’ll do whatever he asks. You lean over the sink, cold porcelain biting into your thighs. His eyes meet yours in the mirror, and he lowers his head to kiss your bare back. It’s soft, intimate, in stark contrast to the rough way he’s handling you. It adds fuel to the sickening flare of hope deep in your chest that gutters and gutters but never goes out. “Keep your eyes on me, okay?” He’s gentle, all of a sudden, gathering your dress in one fist and pulling it to the side. You gasp, your cunt fluttering in the cool air, and George grins.

“Come on, just fuck me,” you groan, rocking your bare cunt against him, the friction from the fabric of his clothes burning your clit deliciously. Your breath fogs up the mirror, the tap presses uncomfortably between your breasts and the corner of the counter cuts into your thighs. You hardly feel any of it, singularly focused on the man behind you. He removes his steadying hand from your hip, unbuckling his belt and shoving his trousers and boxers down just enough to release his cock. You contort your body, twisting to look over your shoulder at him, his cock red and dripping, begging for you. He still looks so put together, crisp and elegant in his suit, his reflection immaculate above you. You look even more wanton by comparison, hair tumbling over your shoulders and lipstick smeared across your chin. Desperate, hot desire drips out of you, your pussy clenching around nothing.

“Beg for it,” he orders, and you’re too far gone to feel embarrassed. He slides a hand between your legs, just barely grazing at your clit. “Oh, God, George, please fuck me,” you moan, mind-wiping pleasure licking from where he toys gently with your swollen bud. “Shit, I need it. Nobody fucks me like you, baby. It’s you, it’s you, it’s always you,” you gasp, biting down on your lower lip before you let slip another incriminating admission.

He swipes a finger across your cunt, dipping teasingly into your entrance and pulling away before you can even react. He licks your arousal off his finger, both of you moaning softly. “Wish we had enough time for me to eat that sweet little pussy. Always so fucking wet for me. Don’t worry, baby, you’ll get what you need,” he promises. You watch him reach into his pocket for a condom and shake your head wildly. “Oh, my dirty girl,” he murmurs, interest colouring his tone. My, your heart gets caught on. My, my, my. My girl. The words ricochet in your skull, bashing against your brain, denting it, leaving it bent out of shape with enough room for George to shove his way in and stay firmly glued there. “You want it raw?”

You nod desperately. “Want it fast. Hard. Dirty,” you plead. “Come on, baby. Ruin me.” At that, he can’t stay teasingly out of your reach any longer, guiding himself to your dripping entrance and thrusting into you in one fluid motion. You’re full so fast you’re practically choking on him, biting down hard to keep a scream at bay. You marvel every time at how well he fits inside you; your body feels made for him. Coherent thought escapes you, euphoria twining through all of your limbs at once.

He paws at your tit with the hand not holding your dress, pinching your nipple cruelly and sending a shock of pleasure-pain spiralling through you. His thrusts are quick but measured, exercising a control that you can’t even begin to fathom as you cling to the edge of the sink for dear life. Your thighs bash against the counter, but you can’t even begin to care. The only thing you know now is George. His hand digging into your waist, nails biting at your flesh, sharp pinpricks drawing a constellation of pleasure in your skin. You’ll be glad, tomorrow, to have the marks, the physical evidence of this encounter, proof of the ownership you feel over him.

“Is someone in there?” somebody calls from outside. You freeze. George only laughs, low and breathy in your ear, teasing, taunting.

“Well? Is someone here, baby?” he whispers, fucking into you again as he speaks.

You choke back a whimper, thrill stealing up your spine at the prospect of getting caught. Someone is right there. If they decide to open the door, there’s no hiding the dirty display you and George are putting on. Being seen like this, bent over, stuffed full of him and begging for more should be humiliating, but inexplicably you almost want to be caught. Maybe, if those girls out there could see how perfectly you fit, how well you fuck him, they’d leave him alone.

“Yeah, I’m in here,” you choke out, clapping a hand to your mouth to stifle a moan when George rolls your clit between his fingers, hot euphoria dripping down your spine. “I’ll— I’ll probably be a second!” you manage, his teasing fingers not giving you even a moment to breathe. Footsteps recede from behind the door and you breathe a sigh of relief, letting a string of suppressed whines and curses fall from your lips. Before you can chastise him, he perfectly hits that spot inside of you and you scream out, mind going blank from pleasure.

He groans. “You’re so fucking beautiful like this, baby. My sweet girl, stretching so pretty around my cock.” You whimper, widening your legs to draw him in deeper. George lifts your head up by your hair, forcing you to make eye contact with yourself in the mirror. “Look at yourself,” he commands. “Look at my pretty girl, falling apart for me.” Your soupy mind latches onto that my again, that little word choking you as effectively as if he had wrapped his hands around your throat. “Made to take my cock. Isn’t that right?”

“Tell me you’re mine,” you gasp, so, so full of him.

“What?” he manages between pants, hips never slowing from their brutal pace. Your skin slaps together, wet, sopping sounds ringing through the small room.

“Fuck, George, just say you’re mine. You don’t even have to mean it,” you coax, moaning low in your throat when his fingers brush your clit. “Come on, baby. Who else do you get it this good from? You know you own my fucking pussy. Let me pretend I get something back,”

He stills for a split second, as though your words cut through the fog of lust swirling between you. Another girl might not have even noticed, but you know every motion he makes inside and out. A broken beat in his perfect rhythm means everything to you. He leans down, slow and deliberate. “I’m yours,” George whispers, and you can’t hide your physical reaction, how good it feels to hear those words. Your blood turns to syrup, heart beating deadly fast to keep it pumping through your organs. “Does it feel good when I say that?” You nod wildly. “I know it does. I can feel what that does for you. I’m yours, baby. Yours, all yours. As long as you’re mine,” he croons, breath hot and sticking in your ears. He’s ruining you. You won’t ever be able to lay under another man without thinking of him, of this.

“I’m yours, George, you know that. Ugh, fuck, I’m getting close.” You slip a hand between your legs, both of you rolling circles on your clit. Tantalising pleasure builds and builds, churning in your gut, setting your body alight. George doesn’t let up, words failing the pair of you, grunts and moans dripping off his tongue in the place of gratifying words. Pleasure coils in your belly, winding tighter and tighter, dragging you ever closer to your high.

One final thrust and you fall apart, unspooling under his quick, clever fingers. Euphoria seeps into your bones, sticky heat keeping you glued to George. Your toes curl in your shoes, your legs shake, unsteady on your feet. He fucks you through your orgasm, stroking your flushed skin as his thrusts become more erratic. You cry out something that could be his name, rocking your hips, half retreating from overstimulation and half chasing his orgasm. You squeeze your cunt around him and he comes with a shout, his body loosening against you, his hand dropping from your hip to catch himself on the counter. He spills inside you as your name spills from his lips, smooth and sweet on his tongue. He pants, hips resting against yours, and catches your eye in the mirror with a smile.

“Fuck,” he mutters, grinning tiredly. He pulls out of you with a sickening squelch, cleaning up as best as he can in the bathroom sink and tucking himself away. You stand upright slowly, clutching your abused muscles.

“Fuck is right,” you reply, wincing as you feel his cum trickling out of you. “I think you’ve shattered my hipbones, darling.” You adjust your dress, crumpled where George had it clutched in his fist.

“You love it,” he fires back. You shrug, tipping your head in acknowledgement. “Sit up here for me, love,” he says, patting the counter. You balance on the edge and let George fuss over you for a moment, cleaning you up as gently as possible, plying you with soft kisses when you whimper and squirm away, oversensitive. This is always the worst part of your hookups — he takes such good care of you after, and for those few minutes, you feel what it would be like to be really his. You stand on shaky legs and try to breathe some life back into your body, try to reel your mutinous heart back in.

“Shit,” you hiss, registering your reflection in the mirror. You look utterly fucked, hair wild, dress ruined, makeup smeared, chest heaving. “I can’t go back out there like this,” you complain, swatting at him when he smirks. Of course, he still looks completely put together, composed as if he wasn’t crying out your name and cumming mere minutes ago.

It takes a minute, but you manage to wrangle your hair into submission and scrub the lipstick stains from your face. There isn’t a lot you can do for your dress, though. Your thighs burn every time you take a step, and your bare cunt is desperately sore. George swats you on the ass and follows you out of the bathroom. Matty catches your eye as you slink guiltily back into the party, shooting you a wicked smirk. You can’t help but love him, even if it does mean everyone in this room is going to know your business by night’s end.

“Hey,” George says, still keeping a supportive arm around your waist. “If you really want me, I’m yours,”

Your pulse speeds, your tender heart smashing against your ribs, bruising to a pulp. “Can you repeat that?” you manage.

“I’m yours, love. As long as you’re mine,” he promises, taking you by the waist and staring deep into your eyes. You’ve always wondered whether he could read your thoughts with that look, and now you have your answer. Stretching up on tiptoes, you sling your arms around his neck and catch him in a long, sweet kiss. You link a finger around his.

“Yours. All yours,”

Chapter 28

Word count : 1k

I’m sorry that is so short but this is a smutty chapter and I’m not very good at writing smut I can read it all the time but I’ve never written it before I’m sorry if it’s not that good but here it is

So warning is smut and swearing ig

Mattys POV

“Now Matty , if your wearing a shirt , take it off for me and take a picture and send it to me” , so I did I pulled my shift off over my head and throw it down next to me on the bed , I momentarily take my phone away from my ear and take a picture of myself chest exposed and my hand splayed across it , after I send it off to George. “Wow your so beautiful Matty honestly”

“Thank darlin, how about you send me something too ?, I need to see you too” , with the anticipation of it can myself hardening in my jeans and I loosen my button on my jeans just so there easier to take off later and slide my hand over my body a few times, I message comes through not to long after and it’s from George again in pretty much the same layout as me laying with his chest exposed seeing the picture makes me whine a little “fuck your so pretty George” , at this I decide to put my phone on speaker and lay it next to me so I have both hands free. “Put your phone on speaker darlin it’ll be easier for you”

“I have , my love don’t worry, now how are you feeling , are you sure you wanna do this?”

“George darlin , I love that your asking but seriously, I really just need to do this”, I begin to push my jeans down my thighs stopping at my knees, and my hands travel back up to my boxers “Can I touch myself”

“Go ahead my love but tell me how you’d like me to do it if it where me okay?”

“I can do that” , I then bring my hand down , sliding it down my body till I get to my waist band and pull my boxers down too “first off I’d just ask you to tease a little bit I guess, just wind me up apparently which is weird I suppose” , my hand travels to wraps itself around me and I start to slowly rub myself as I describe what I’d like George to do “then uh then I’d ask you to actually touch me because a man can’t hold off forever can they” , I hear a small gasp from his side and it drives me a little crazy and I let out a sigh of content as I continue

“Then what my love”, he’s a little breathy already and it’s really setting me off. Little moans and sighs from his end up making my hand go faster and I moan a few times myself embarrassingly high may I add.

“Then em …maybe I’d start slowly undressing you while your touching me , then I’d wrap my hands around you too so not to be selfish ay , cuz I’d wanna see it too”

“Would you like to see it again ??”

“God yeh” , I have to see him all of him honestly I don’t know what I’d do if he was just here in front of me I’d turn into such a fucking horny 15 year old boy that I don’t look like that right now but Jesus “can I please?”

“How would you like to see it love”

“Can we switch to face time”, I feel myself unravelling at the thought of just seeing him all layed out pleasuring himself infront of me. “Only if you want too of course”

“Shit….yeh I want too” , my screen suddenly pops up as a FaceTime and I accept it and try to set it up so he can see me fully and seeing his face even in this situation just makes me smile “heya love I missed your face”

“Me too darlin me too” my hand stilled for a second so I could just look at him and admire him “your so fuckin handsome George seriously”

“Ahhh…no…nghhh…that’s you” , I can see he’s still going to my hand goes back to what it was doing and I start pumping myself faster as I watch him and I start speaking to him better this feels better

“What would you like me do argh… to you …shit …right now” , I can see him thinking off what he’d like to do and his eyes roll into the back of his head and his back rises of the bed as he groans which in turn makes me moan again.

“Jesus fuck Matty…I really…oh uh…I really wan t you too ….nghh…suck me off” , that was it for both us I could feel the not in my stomach start to pull and I was about to cum

“George I’m gunna…arghh…cum …tell me I can…let me cum” , I try to hold off until he says I can because I like when I get permission and the praise afterwards from being good is just amazing.

“Go ahead love let me see you let go”, and that’s when I release all over my hand and my stomach and at the moment I can hear him let out a stomach churning moans and I just catch him as he do releases all over himself. I’m sweating and my breathing is ragged , he looks just as fucked out as I am. We both take some time to come back to reality just breathing with each other. “That was…that was amazing oh my god “

“You can say that again , gimmie a second I’m just going to clean up”

“Me too”

We both chuckle a little as we go to clean up, I dampen a cloth and wipe myself clean of everything and smile to myself that was great. I haven’t been with someone in a while but even that beats anything I’ve done with anyone. That just felt different. I make my way back to my room as I redress pulling up jeans and putting my shift back in that I’d dropped in the bed and get myself comfy back in the bed and wait for George, he comes back not to long after he too is also dressed and his hair is tied up again and he looks so precious “Hey there handsome”

“Hi , can I say that was the best thing I’ve ever done”