Here's The Sub Matty Request

Here's the sub matty request

warning: smut

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“Matty—You gave me a fright, Jesus!” She gasped as she watched him walk through the door, remarkably early, his hair noticeably identical to the way it looked when he left not too long ago, and his gym bag full. “Thought you’d be happy about it.” Matty mumbled, startling her a second time when he let his bag drop to the floor with a thud. “Did you forget something? I packed your gi and your guard and everything.” “Not going anymore.” His reply was terse, but just saying those 3 words took a lot out of him. “Why not?” “You’re the one who’s been complaining that we never spend any time together when I’m home.” She heard the edge in his tone but chose to look past it. “You- were halfway there but you turned around and came back home to spend time with me? Have you told your face that? Or your voice?” Matty remained silent, looking past her and breathing deeply to keep from letting the snide comments slip out of his mouth. He felt like a balloon being pumped full of air. Slowly but surely, growing bigger, and bigger, and bigger, until finally, one last pump of air and “You’re ignoring me.” POP! “For fucks sakes!!!!” Matty yelled, both of his hands flying to his temples. “When will this interrogation end, officer?!!! Am I free to leave? Are we fuckin done here??” The balloon had burst.

Matty’s chest heaved, his eyes staring down at his shoes. The sound of his own voice from moments ago still echoed in his ears. He shouldn’t have done that. He shouldn’t have yelled. And he shouldn’t have been cruel with his words either. But it’s too late now. He can’t take any of it back. The silence between them was deafening, the air felt heavy. He tore his eyes away from the floor for a moment, to glance at her, but the second that they locked eyes, he felt the tears begin to sting. He looked away as his lower lip began to tremble. He didnt want to cry. Not in front of her at least. He recalled reading somewhere that pressing your tongue to the roof of your mouth could prevent crying. His tongue raised inside his mouth, testing to see if it would work. He was overcome with guilt. He couldn’t possibly look her in the eyes after his ridiculous outburst. He turned around, to hide his face, sniffling with his back towards her.

Calmly, she walked across the room towards him. Matty wiped his tears on his arm as he felt her approaching.

“Matty…” she cooed softly. “No- I- just- need a minute.” His plea punctuated with sniveling. Disregarding what he’d said, she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. The soft gesture shook him, a loud sob tore through his chest. His knees seemed to buckle, but she quickly hooked her arms underneath his armpits him from behind, holding him up.

“It’s okay, Matty. You’re okay. Please don’t cry.” She whispered, her chest pressed to his back. It broke her heart to see him like this. “Let’s sit down, yeah? Can you do that for me?” At her suggestion, Matty straightened his legs, pulling himself together and stepping outside of her embrace. She trailed behind him, sitting right next to him and placing her hand on his back, rubbing it gently. “No, please. I don’t deserve this. Don’t deserve to be consoled right now.” Matty attempted to squirm away, shrug off her hand, but he was trapped between her body and the arm of the couch with nowhere to go. “Hush, now. None of that.” “I- yelled at you. I was mean.” He blubbered as she pulled him closer, kissing his cheek and rest his head on her shoulder. “It’s okay, Matty. You didn’t mean it.” She wasn’t shaken by any of this because she’d seen it coming, expected it for a while now. He’d been short and snippy with her since getting home. She could see the stress and exhaustion written all over his face from the second that he’d walked through the “Arrivals” gate at the airport. “I didn’t. I’ve just been- it’s been-“ he searched his mind for the right words to justify his behavior lately, but there were none. “You’ve been stressed.” She finished the sentence for him. “You’ve been working yourself to death. I mean, you’re home for- what- like….five days?” He nodded, surrendering to where he knew this conversation was going. “You’ve been here three days and I’ve barely seen you. All I see of you is getting up early to get to the studio, or to make a meeting with someone. Last night, I found you passed out on the couch, with your shoes still on.” “I’m sorry- I-“ “I’m not mad, Matty. I’m just saying. You’ve been overwhelmed. And, when you’re overwhelmed, you have a tendency to lash out. You try to control things with a tighter grip- to its like you think that if you just push hard enough, you’ll feel better, but it just makes things worse.” Matty pulled his head off her shoulder, sitting up straight. She looked into his eyes and saw him looking back. Like a lost kid, begging for direction. “Just….can’t make my brain stop. It won’t stop.” He mumbled, leaning forward and holding his head in his hands. “I feel like if I give up control, I’ll drown.” “Baby, you’ll never drown as long as I’m around.”

“You sure you want this?” She pulled his face from where he’d buried it in embarrassment, in the crook of her neck. Matty blushed when he felt the intensity of her eyes on him, studying his face for any signs of hesitation. “Yes. I’m sure. Promise.” He whispered

It wasn’t that they’d never done this before. Had sex after an argument. Makeup sex could be great sometimes. Whether it was a huge fight that left them both in tears and in need of intimacy and reassurance, or a simple spat that had blown out of proportion in the heat of the moment turning from anger to passion, they weren’t exactly shy about it. But this felt different. With one of them more vulnerable than the other, it was slightly new territory.

Matty could tell that she was still uncertain. He looked directly into her eyes. “I just- want you to break my brain. Stop it from thinking.”

She placed a gentle hand to his cheek, without a a second thought matty felt thumb next to his mouth and dipped his head lower and took her finger into his mouth.

The gesture lit an insatiable fire within her that longed to consume him instantly. And he could see its spark in her eyes.

“Ah-ah! Nope. Don’t even bother. You just lay there and look pretty.” She rounded the bed like a vulture circling its prey. “Don’t deprive me of the pleasure of peeling that uniform off of your body. Do you have any idea how many times I’ve pictured myself doing that?” She bit her lower lip at the memory, towering over him and running a finger down his shirt.

The black polyester fabric of the rash guard separated his skin from hers, but Matty almost felt himself shiver. His mind and body already beginning to surrender. That, was the feeling he craved most when they were apart.

She pulled his shirt over his head. Tossing it to the floor. His shorts followed not too long after. She stepped back for a moment, taking in the sight of him splayed out on the bed, in nothing but his underwear, looking at up at her. “the brain breaking that you’ve requested requires a special combination of pain and pleasure.” She stated calmly before turning around and reluctantly walking away from him, towards her nightstand drawer. “I need some tools.” Matty couldn’t tell what, exactly, she was rummaging around for, nor did he want to guess. He’d find out soon enough. This wasn’t about him predicting and controlling what happened next. It was about, just, letting it happen. “There’s just something about having a man like you, who looks like- that” she gestured at his biceps and his torso, be completely at my mercy. She tied his wrists, one at a time, to the bed frame. “Look at that.” She tilted her head, admiring his flexed arms against the restraints. “Gorgeous. I could sit here and stare at your beauty for hours.” Her voice small, hypnotized. She shook herself out of her trance. “But don’t worry. I won’t. We’ve got more intense things to worry about.” Matty turned his head to the side and watched her pick up his cigarette lighter. Then, she broke a piece of wax play candle out of its container and lit it over his exposed chest.

She smiled, watching as drops of hot wax dropped onto Matty’s chest making him flinch and wince. She’s started slow, one drop at a time, giving him a chance to warm up and connect with his body, but she wanted to have fun now. She tilted the candle upside down completely, moving her hand forward and directing a stream of freshly melted, liquid wax to splash over Matty’s nipples. “No- fuck!” He bucked his hips reflexively attempting to squirm away. “Shiiiit-“ as the wax spilled Matty’s primal scream filled the room, drowning out the sound of the restraints pulling at the bed frame.

She look down at the artwork she’d created on Matty’s skin. The wax had dried over his chest in all sorts of shapes and patterns, some dots lined his tattoos, other lines squiggled around or ran across his chest from the top right, over his nipple, diagonally to the bottom left just abo his hip, it was quite the abstract painting. But it was now time to scrape it off. “This may hurt.” She giggled to herself as she picked up the flogger, swinging it in the air. Matty’s eyes widened as the flogger came into view, but before he had a chance to protest, she hit him square in the middle of his stomach, knocking the wind out of his lungs and rendering him speechless. A few warm up hits later, she reigned the flogger down on him relentlessly, the pain doubling as the leather scratched at the wax on his chest. He felt breathless, sweat running down his flexed biceps, wrists struggling tightly as he winced and moaned in pain. “This what you wanted, darling?” Matty attempted to nod. She shook her head and he knew what she meant. “Sorry- I- um- fuck!” His body jolted at a particularly painful piece of wax pulling at his chest hair as it ripped away. “Yes. This is what I need. Yes- thank you. Thank you. Thank you. A-fu- than-k- you.” He chanted over and over to the rhythm of the flogger.

By the time that she’d tossed the flogger aside, Matty was gasping for breath, the skin from his chest to his hip bone throbbing, painful, bright red and bruised. “Oh, baby.” Her words were pitiful but she had a satisfied smile on her face as she sat on the edge of the bed next to him, her hands lightly touching his hot skin. “That looks painful.” She whispered, almost to herself. Slowly, she dipped her head low, placing soft kisses to the body she’d just tortured. Matty jolted at first, the soft feeling surprising him. He closed his eyes and tried to enjoy the sensation of her lips on him, but his skin was much too sensitive. He couldn’t help but whine and bite the inside of his cheek. “Ow-umm thank- ah!” “Don’t thank me yet, baby.” She glanced lower, at the obvious bulge in his underwear. If matty had his wits about him he’d probably beg for release or something, but she could tell the mix of sensations had overwhelmed him. His lay there, chest rising and falling rapidly, pupils blown, his damp curls a mess. She leaned over to kiss him quickly before moving to retrieve some lube. “Alright, my love.” Matty gasped, his hips bucking off the mattress as he felt her hand reach into the waistband of his underwear and pull at his hardened cock. His eyes fluttered shut instantly, a long, deep and guttural moan leaving his lips. “Oh- fuck- baby-“ his brows knitted, he whined pathetically as she proceeded to pump him with her hand. “Yes, yes, yes” he repeated, his hips meeting her rhythm almost automatically- without him even having to try. “How’s that feel, honey?” Matty couldn’t understand why, but that single word, “honey” is what sent him over the edge, breaking his resolve and sending him hurling into sub space. He was practically useless now. She knew she wouldn’t be able to get much of a response out of him at this point. “Stay with me, my love. That feel good?” It took him a moment to hear and process her voice. “Uhhu.” He mumbled incoherently. She tugged at his balls. “Can feel you getting closer.” All she could hear from him were non specific grunts and moans. His legs beginning to tremble and his eyes rolling to the back of his head, he attempted to ask for permission, even as he struggled to string words together. “Oh god- I- mm- I-“ “I know, baby. It’s okay. You can let go. Cum for me, Matty” He let go with a rough scream that scratched at his throat. His head pushing against the pillow, neck strained and the veins on its side, noticeable. She heard his feet fall limply back onto the bed as he came down. Everything was still and quiet for a moment. Matty was too overwhelmed to open his eyes. But he felt her hands in his hair, caressing it gently as she spoke softly and sweetly, coaxing him back into his body. “You did so good, my love. You’re always so, so good for me no matter how hard I make it on you.” She wasn’t sure if he was even listening, so she untied one of his wrists, taking his hand in hers and squeezing it. A moment later, she felt him squeeze back, weakly. Relief washed over her. “I’m so so lucky to have you. You’re perfect.” She kissed the back of his hand. Faintly, but unmistakably, she heard him whisper. “I love you.”

More Posts from Soil-just-needs-water-to-be and Others

Thanks for the tag @ros3chu

1 She’s American - The 1975 🇺🇸

2 Menswear - The 1975 🕴️

3 London Boy - Taylor Swift 🇬🇧

4 Johanna - Jamie Campbell Bower ✂️

5 Spinning - No Rome , The 1975 and Charli XCX 😵‍💫

6 M.O.N.E.Y- The 1975 💰

7 Ex-Wife’s - SIX cast 💍

8 Dancings not a Crime - Panic 🕺🏻

9 Looking for Somebody ( to love)- The 1975 💪

10 Cheating - Michael Aldag 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

Tags

1 @justanamesstuff

2 @bookish-strawberry

3 @medeas-chariot

4 @the1975attheirverybest

5 @alwaysanagelneveragod

6 @squishysoupy

7 @tillthelandslide

8 @trumanblackout

9 @footprint-in-the-snow

10 @abiiors

tagged by @dolcevenus777 to do 10 songs, 10 people <3

songs:

kinda outta luck - lana del rey

valerie - the weeknd

lolita - lana del rey

in the night - the weeknd

hollywood - lana del rey

fishtail - lana del rey

bloodline - ariana grande

buy the stars - marina

dealer - lana del rey

orange trees - marina

(you can tell that lana has taken over my playlist💀)

people: @girlbloggerinterrupted777 @iconnnnnn @iheartcarlgrimes1 @fl0raldreams @augustinaas @aspendoll @porcelaindoll333 @esotericalfawn @coppolagraveyard @balletbambi777 (no pressure 🫶🏻)

GETTING MY TATTOO TODAY GUYS !!!!!


Tags

I’ve come to realise that Matty and No Rome in the Narcissist video is me (my my last two adhd brain cells ) whichever, when I’ve had no sleep and too much sugar


Tags
Bout To Getting My Silly Little Box Tattoo In September

Bout to getting my silly little box tattoo in September


Tags

The fact no one is singing is UPSETTING ME


Tags

let's keep this discussion going because I'm really enjoying it 👀

Just had to post Matthew Perry yanno (he be my other Matty baby anyway), but like dude it’s so fuckin devastating wtf !!! 😨😭😨😭😨

I really felt the need cuz I found my football 😂


Tags

lenaaaaaa god help me I’m so high rn I’m thinking about mpind matty pole dancing ans also giving girlie a lap dance fhis isnt good or my health I think

dont be shy pass the spliff

also mpind comeback after a bunch of wank everyone be happy x

Love me - Matty Healy

Lenaaaaaa God Help Me I’m So High Rn I’m Thinking About Mpind Matty Pole Dancing Ans Also Giving

A/N: bit wanky, barely spell checked except for @beforeyougo-turnthebiglightoff 's weird sim reactions to whatever i write. Legend anon i hope this is filthy enough for you my love xx

wc: 4.5k

content warnings: smut, fluff, tw: my shitty comedy, handjobs, strip clubs, its george's birthday!!, begging, teasing, lap dance, matty in lingerie pt. 43, mentions of alcohol, lots of swearing, cumplay, grinding, it gets a bit sappy guys soz, sub!Matty

“A strip club? Are you never scared of being a cliché?” you scoff as the venue comes into view, strobing neon flashing in your face. The summer night is warm, a breeze kissing your skin as the gravel crackles under your feet, your quite high heels still not making you taller than George. 

His birthday, the big one eight, was today, and his chosen place was of course, a local strip club.

“If that cliché is seeing half naked girls, no.” he sniggers, Matty’s bickering with Ross and Hann faintly heard behind you. You hook your arm into his as you approach the bouncer, the line surprisingly short. 

“I forget you're an actual man sometimes.”

“How can you possibly forget?!” he lets go, flexing his muscles at you as some sort of display of masculinity, making you giggle behind your hand.

Matty takes this ample opportunity to swoop in from behind, pressing the side of his body up against yours. The four of you watch George proudly present his real I.D to the bouncer, a wide smile on his face as he takes it from him. The bloke gives him a weird once-over, waving him and the rest through without a hitch. 

It's bright inside, but not in the way you would assume. Different colored lights strobe around, switching every 20 seconds or so, the heavy bass of the music thrumming through your veins. Matty hangs on your arm as you look around, George immediately booking it to a booth with a stage as the table, wanting the best front row seat to the show. You roll your eyes at his eagerness, but then again, who could blame him? 

Everyone files into the booth, George ending up wedged in the corner of the seating, uncomfortable but glass he could stretch his legs out under the table. 

“Round of pints on me, happy birthday G. '' Everyone cheers, excluding Hann, who glares at Matty from across the table.

“Oh so now you have money? What about last week?” Ross lets out a quiet snigger, liking this turn of events. 

“Shut up you cunt, it's G’s birthday! Lighten up a bit, old man.” 

“Matty when I get my fucking hands on you-” Ross to the rescue, he presses a hand to his mate’s chest, keeping him seated. 

“Alright girls, break it up.” he gives up, mouthing a curt ‘fuck you’ at Matty, rolling his eyes. 

The waitress returns from the bar, bringing a platter of glasses with her. She sets them down, smiling at you before walking away, the neon lights of the club making her eyes shimmer. 

“Cheers, happy 18th mate.” Matty plants a wet kiss on George’s face, making him squirm away in disgust. 

“Get off you grade A wanker, your girl’s right there.” You blow him a kiss as Matty turns to you, licking a fat stripe up the side of your face, from your jaw to your cheekbone. Everyone at the table groans at his odd display of affection, Ross dramatically shielding his eyes and muttering incoherently as Matty finally sits back down, downing the rest of his pint. 

Sure enough, right in the middle of Hann’s interesting story about his last date, a dancer comes over to the table. She climbs up, eyeing George, twirling around the pole a few times before doing this flip you didn't even know was humanly possible. The bralette she’s wearing glimmers in the light, reflecting off and into your eyes, distracting you.  

George stares blatantly, eyes raking up and down her body as she dances, not letting her leave his line of sight. It's so obvious and she smirks at him, turning her body to face his direction before bending over, exposing her cleavage even more.  

“Don't be a knob.” you hiss, not wanting to seem rude.

“She’s fit and it's quite literally her job!” a small laugh escapes the woman as she goes to speak, flattered at the exchange. 

“It’s alright love, look all you want.” 

“See!” George shouts a bit too loudly, proud of his correctness in strip club etiquette.

You sigh, nodding at her as Matty pokes your side. 

“She is fit.” you whisper quietly, gesturing to her. Matty perks up, shoving you in offense.

“I'm fitter, don't forget.” you giggle at the statement, refusing to give him the satisfaction of agreeing with him.  

“She’s literally sparkling, I need to know what brand that is.” The rhinestone adorned lingerie set she was wearing captivated everyone at the table, hugging her curves in all the right places.  

“Who’s to say I'm not either?” your eyes widen slightly at the implication, but you brush him off.

“Shut it, don't be a tosser.” his hand grips yours right before he speaks, bringing it down to the waistband of his jeans. “I’m not.”

He uses your fingers to pull it down about an inch, revealing a pretty string of purple under his bottoms. Your breath hitches at the realization, eyes snapping up to meet his. Was he serious? Now?

“It’s George’s birthday.” you state, voice hushed so the others could overhear your conversation. Hann was already off to buy another round, leaving Ross and George to make ‘friendly’ conversation with the dancer, shamelessly staring at her tits the entire time. “He won't mind, just look at him.” 

Sure enough, George is ogling the dancer, lips parted and being such a boy it hurts. She’s clearly enjoying the attention as he leans forward, stuffing a wad of cash into the flimsy waistband of her thong, smirking. 

“He’s already imagining a future with her, look!”

She sets a paper crown on his head with the words ‘birthday boy’ on it, giving him a small kiss on the cheek. A boyish blush spreads onto George’s face as her kiss leaves a mark of lipstick, Ross quickly snapping a photo of him to take the piss when they left.   

“He desperately needs a lay, it's sad.” you comment, knowing it had been ages since his last girlfriend or even hookup, too focused on his coursework and music to go out more than the few times you forced him to. 

“So do I, so I'd prefer it if we didn't drag this out.” 

Matty gets up, climbing over you despite your quite loud protests, announcing his trip to the dance floor. You wait a few moments before following him, the sway of his hips and faint back muscles under his mesh shirt flexing as he walks, convincing you to just go with it, hoping whatever he had planned wasn't totally scandalous and wouldn't get you kicked out of the place. 

He turns right past the dance floor, leading you into a narrow corridor off to the side. You catch up to him, close behind him as he slips a dancer some cash, nodding as he makes his way to the door at the end of the hall. Matty rushes in before you, the door almost slamming in your face. ‘Private room’ flashes back at you in yellow neon, making you raise your eyebrows.

The room is dark for the first few seconds as you hear Matty shuffling. Suddenly, the room lights up, giant mirrors covering the walls and ceiling, reflecting the light back and forth. You glance around, eyes landing on Matty. 

A tall pole is the centerpiece of the room, pink metal running from the floor to the ceiling. Matty leans on it, left hand wrapping around it as he spins, smirking at you as you watch him, something stirring inside of you. 

“Did you plan this?” you ask, a skeptical look on your face.

“Maybe.” his fingers run up his chest, playing with his nipples right in front of you. His voice drips with lust, coating your mind with only a few words, making it difficult to get even semi-coherent sentences out.

“Jesus, you're mental.” you gasp softly as he moves, fluid and sure, captivating you with every change of direction.

“But you love me, now sit.” you listen, not knowing what else you were meant to do in this situation. The chair is soft, cushions letting you settle in comfortably. 

“Everything is so pink.” you mutter, gesturing to the mirror frames and pole, every surface some variation of the same color.

“Sort of the point, yeah? To set the mood.” he smirks, trailing his hands up his waist, letting his nails graze against his skin, mimicking the same thing you do to him. “Mood for what?”

“You’ll see, be patient.” you roll your eyes at his words, the palms of your hands rubbing against the soft pillow of your chair. “That's rich.” 

“Please, for me?” He sounds so sweet, like he was asking you to bring him a glass of water, not to stay still while he touched himself in front of you. 

“We both know I can't deny you.” 

“How true.” he sucks in a deep breath, throwing his head back as he holds eye contact. 

“Watch.” 

“What do I-?” you stutter over your words, your heart beating rapidly against your chest as he feels himself up, fingers ghosting over his tattoos.

“Me, keep your eyes on me.”

He turns his attention back to the pole next to him, strutting around it as the music from the dancefloor dictates his movements, his back pressed to the cool metal. Matty parts his lips as he slides down it, running a hand over his chest performatively, watching your every reaction. 

Your breathing becomes more shallow as he moves, thousands of fantasies running through your mind. He knows the effect he has on you, everything he does is purely to rile you up, make you lose your composure. 

“You’re mad, this is-” he cuts you off with a sly smile.

“Incredibly hot? I’d rather you enjoy the show than talk over it.” you scrunch up your face at the implication that this was a performance, even if you did expect nothing less from Matty. 

“Show?”

He runs a hand through his slightly messed up hair, showing off his neck as you stare at him, biting your lip between your teeth to keep from embarrassing yourself. 

“I hate you.” you mumble as the music changes, some hip-hop song coming on. The faint cheers of the people outside are barely audible, but it serves to remind of just where you were. The guys were still at the table, most likely speculating the reason as to why the two of you have been missing that long, Ross surely already making crude comments that neither Hann nor George wanted to think about.

“You won't if you just wait.” you grip the edge of your seat, blushing profusely as he struts over to you, wrapping his arms around your neck. His breath is hot against your neck, leaning over you as he settles into your lap. You finally clock it.  

“Stay still.” he ‘orders’, attempting to mimic the way you speak to him when he doesn't listen.

“Are you giving me a lap dance?” he frowns at you, shaking his head in disappointment. A chuckle escapes you as the reality of the situation dawns on you. 

“No need to define it darling, let it be abstract.” of course he’d say something like that, try to salvage the ‘artistic’ affair, failing miserably. 

“You’re giving me a fucking lapdance, christ.” it's genuinely amusing. Your heart swells up at the thought of all the effort that went into this. Paying off the dancer with god only knows how much money, turning you on at the table just enough so you’d follow him, and probably even setting up the lighting in the room himself. 

“You're such a bore, let me have my fun.” he kisses you, giggling into your mouth. His lips are warm against yours, your lip gloss rubbing off on him. “Oh, I will.” you promise, letting your hands fall limp as he grips your shoulders, rocking his hips back and forth. His movements are exact, practiced even as he grinds down onto you before lifting his body back up, bringing his hip tattoo up to eye level. 

You don't think, mind clouded with desire and want. His shirt had ridden up a bit, and your rough tongue drags across the inked skin, warm against it as he shudders, feeling his cock twitch in his pants at the sensation. 

“No touching the dancers” he tuts, coming back down on top of you.

“I’m exempt from that rule.” you say, your voice surprisingly steady despite the white hot heat pooling between your legs.

“According to whom?” 

“You.”

You let your hands settle onto his waist, gripping him so hard you were sure there’d be bruises the next day.

“Fuckk, yeah okay,” he groans, the pressure on the front of his jeans increasing as all the blood in his head rushes south, his mind hazy. 

“C’mon baby, finish your little performance.”

He moves to get off, smirking as you let him. You can see indents in his skin where you grabbed him, the sight making your breath hitch. He circles around you like a predator does his prey, wrapping his arms around you from behind. 

His hands trail up your chest, fingers grazing over your exposed collarbones. Your skin flushes under his touch and you let out a soft moan at the feeling, earning a proud smile from Matty. 

“You’re so gorgeous. I have to force myself to not get hard whenever you look at me.” his voice is sultry against your ear, making goosebumps bloom on the skin of your neck. “Oh, way to exaggerate.” you snigger, not quite believing him. 

“Honest truth.” he swears, instinctively doing the ‘scouts honor’ sign with his hand. 

You snort, your little giggling fit interrupted by his mouth trailing sickly sweet kisses up your neck and to your jaw.

It doesn't take him long to make his way back around, your heart skipping a beat when he comes back into view. His chest is glistening with sweat, the warm temperature of the room clearly getting to him. Most notably, you notice the front of his jeans is unbuttoned and unzipped, flaring out on both sides, revealing almost the entirety of the silky, purple panties he had chosen to wear. 

He relishes in your reaction, the attention making his ego grow exponentially as he moves back into your lap. Your hands trail up his chest, doing your best to not immediately pay attention to the underwear. You can't resist, though. 

“These are new.” you toy with the thin straps, silk reflecting the colored light beautifully. You can see a note of pride ripple through him as you admire the material, grazing his cock through it.

“Got them just for you, you like?” The question is so obviously rhetorical. Of course you like, no, love them. “So much.” your words are laced with love, soft and appreciative of all the effort he puts into getting you off, fulfilling your fantasy.

The way he looks at you is sinful, thoughts dancing behind his eyes visible as he stares, waiting for your next move.

He lets out a soft groan when you push him down into your thigh, biting his lip at you provocatively. “You're hard.” you smile as you say the words, his gaze softening when he sees the blissed out look at your face, eyes raking over his body. Even (almost) fully clothed, he was absolutely beautiful. 

“See? Wasn't lying.” he presses a kiss behind your left ear, gently moving your hair out of the way. It’s loving, so honest. “You sure it's not because of the mirror behind me?” you still cant help but tease him, gesturing to the giant mirror your back was facing. He blushes in response, stealing a glance at his reflection. 

“You’re so cruel! I’ll just stop then, seeing as all you see me as is some egotistical deviant.” he threatens, crossing his arms over his chest in retaliation. You bring a hand up to cup his face, stroking his cheek softly, almost patronizing. Your mind swims with the power you have over him. 

“You wont stop, you couldn't if you tried.” For the first time that evening, you call his bluff, the way he reacts to you exquisite as his lips part, no words coming out. Silence fills the room, even the music on the other side of the door seeming to die down. How long have the two of you been here?

“Am i right?” you question, not letting him off the hook like you usually would.  

“..yeah–” his words are small, and you know you have him right where you want him. The lightest, slightest touch could send him hurtling over the edge, his hips rutting desperately into your hand as you palm him through his underwear.

“So pretty for me, doing all of this. Thank you baby.” you whisper into his ear as he gasps under your touch. It's so incredibly intimate that you can't help but drop your facade for a few seconds, kissing him sweetly, his lips moving against yours with desperation.  

“Anything for you.”

“Anything?”

“Mhm.”

You take his cock out of the confines of his underwear, a sigh of relief falling from his parted lips as your fingers ghost over the tip, teasing him. 

“Just stay still, let me make you feel good.” you murmur, feeling him up under his shirt, your nails digging into the skin of his back. He shifts on top of you, his body yearning for your touch.

“Please.”

You reach down to wrap your manicured fingers around his cock, the sight of the pretty colors of your nails around him making his eyes roll back in his head, his mind spinning with all sorts of possibilities, mostly focused on not finishing right in that moment. 

Tugging lazily on his cock, you drag your fingers from the base to the tip, a satisfying whimper spilling from Matty’s lips, the sound spreading through your entire body. His back arches against you and the kiss he presses against your mouth tastes like the cigarettes he chainsmoked on the way to the club, mixing deliciously with the hint of alcohol on his breath. 

“Let go for me, feel it.”

He trembles, the noise he lets out is desperate, filthy, shooting straight to your core. Everything is heightened. You can feel his breath on your cheek as he leans forward into you, chest pressing against yours as you run your fist up and down his cock, small whimpers of pleasure spurring you on. 

“Fuckk, that feels so good–” 

Matty’s words are choked, his effort to hold back a bit obvious. He’s hungry, wanting, evident in the way he ruts into your hand, his fingers digging into the skin of your shoulders, the sharp pain making you sigh, pleased. 

“Be nice and loud for me, let me hear you.” you coo into his ear, your free hand dragging up his back under his shirt, the mesh bunching up. “So good to me, treat me so well, god– shit.”

He twitches as you dig your thumb into his slit, a shiver spreading through his body 

The way he’s not even undressed is obscene, the fabric of his jeans gathering under his hips as he’s perched on top of you, feet planted firmly on the floor for leverage. You watch him, engrossed in pleasure, completely blissed out expression on his face. His head is thrown back, exposing his pale neck, faded hickeys and marks still visible from your last encounter. 

“You're staring” he breathes, your eyes snapping up to meet him. A filthy grin tugs at the corners of his lips, your focus on him and only him. His hair falls over his face, obscuring it slightly, much to your disdain.  

“You're giving me reason to” you brush curls out of his face as your movements still, letting him speak properly, uninterrupted. 

“Yeah, I want you to look at me.”

You smile lovingly, cocking your head slightly to the left as you tease him, one of your fingers twirling his hair. 

“Gets you off, my attention?” he doesn't even try to deny it, knowing it wouldn't get him anywhere. 

“Mhm-m” he nods, panting. His chest heaves with every breath he takes, silently begging you to continue.

His hips stutter as you grip his cock tighter, your other hand stroking his face sweetly as you stare into each other's eyes, his face flush as pornographic moans spill from his lips. His back arches again, your bodies pressed against each other as your hand snakes between the two of you.

“F-fuck, i’m so close, please let me cum, please.” His voice is high-pitched and whiny, tears threatening to spill at the overwhelming pleasure. 

“You beg so nicely, let me hear you baby.” you whisper words of encouragement as his hips buck up into your hand involuntarily, every ounce of self control in him dissipating. 

“I need it so bad, please i've been so good for you.”

He hiccups in a way that almost makes you feel bad, his desperation so obvious. You speed up a bit, just a bit, giving him that sweet, sweet relief he’s been begging for for god knows how long now.

“P-please, oh fuck, yesyesyes fuck.” precum bubbles at the tip of his cock, and you smear it down, coating him in his own arousal. It's unbelievably hot, his entire body twitching at the sight of your fingers on his cock, a sight he desperately tries to commit to memory. 

“You’re leaking all over my hand darling, so filthy.” he whines into your neck, and you lick across his jaw, making him shiver

“Make a mess, c’mon, come for me.” an animalistic groan fills your ears as he rapidly approaches his orgasm, writhing under your touch.

“Y-yeah– fuck thats so good, your hand feels so good, fucking made for me.”

Matty’s possessive nature made your head spin with lust, his eyeliner smudging down his face as he stares into your eyes with such an intensity it felt like he was going to consume you.

His skin glows under the soft pink lighting, making him seem ethereal, like a true angel. His noises are like music to your ears as he spills into your hand, spurts of cum coating your bare stomach, barely missing your (quite expensive) cropped shirt. Matty kisses you immediately after, hands threading through your hair as he drinks you in, stealing your breath straight from your lungs. 

Wordlessly, one of his hands moves down, gathering the remnants of his orgasm onto two fingers, tapping your mouth with the other. You indulge him, parting your lips to let him push his digits past them, the salty taste of him taking over your senses. His pupils are completely blown out in desire, not able to process what was happening in front of him, a loopy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, his eyes crinkling in that way that made your heart swell up with love 

“Perfect.” he mumbles as you lick his fingers clean, smiling mischievously at his dazed gaze. Matty pulls you in, holding you close, desperate to not let go.

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

“Where were you two?” Ross’s voice is accusatory as the two of you finally return to the booth, the dancer from before having already left. A faint blush spreads onto your cheeks as the memories of not 20 minutes go flash through your mind. Hann doesn't help your situation at all.

“Probably shagging, just look at him.” your head turns, seeing Matty’s blissed out expression, a content smile replacing his usual nasty grin. You elbow him in the ribs, a silent plea to say something, but he promptly ignores your silent begging. 

“Shut up you dickhead, you don't know shit.” 

George points at Matty, now grinning wildly, reminiscing about the events of tonight. He’s oddly calm, which would be concerning if it wasn't for the monstrous case of post-sex hair he currently had 

“Jesus, what did you even do to him?” George is taking the absolute piss out of you, and for good enough reason. 

“I don't kiss and tell.” you attempt to change the conversation topic as you settle back into the booth, commenting on the pint glasses. You're ignored in favor of laughing at you further while matty remains completely unbothered, the glow he emitted so fucking obvious it hurt.  

“Well he sure does, I've heard much more than necessary.” Ross sniggers, pulling a face at the not-so-distant memory of Matty’s sex bonfire-storytelling session that had happened a few weeks prior (not at an actual bonfire, but on the floor of your living room, completely pissed while you were out with your girlfriends.)

“Did you at least wash your hands?” Hann asks, the question directed at Matty, whose hands were loosely wrapped around his nearly empty pint glass. 

“Didn't have to.” he grins, waving his hands in Adam’s face proudly, like it was some sort of achievement. 

“Oh fucking hell, too much info.” George groans, cupping his face in his hands at the mental image of what he thought had just happened. You laugh inwardly, the whole situation absurd. This was the furthest you had ever gotten in discussing anything relating to your relationship with Matty, and it honestly felt weird.

“I’m never touching you again mate, no fucking way.” Ross stated, a disgusted look on his face. “Awwe Ross, how will you do without my touch?” You make grabby hands at him, climbing over George to drape yourself over the booth, touching his hair and face, Matty’s and Hann’s hysterical laughter spurring you on. “GET OFF ME!!” he yells, clawing at you to push you away, absolutely mortified. 

George, slightly more pissed than the rest of you, announces his mission to get the dancers number, swearing up and down that “She had this look in her eye, i’m so fucking serious.” he manages to stumble over his shoes about three times before finally standing up straight, brushing off any ‘dust’ (crisps) that clung to his raggedy band tee. 

“Good luck mate, not that you need it.” Hann tries to be encouraging, knowing just as well as the rest of you how George got when he had a few too many pints. Terribly emotional and impulsive, there was no stopping him once he had his sights set on something, or in this case, someone.

“I definitely don't” he glares at you over his shoulder, strutting across the dance floor in direction of where he’d last seen her. 

As he walks away, Ross sniggers.

“He definitely does.” and you can't help but giggle along as he trips over a stray stair, falling right onto his face. Hann goes to help him up, ignoring your collective jeers to “Stop ruining his chances at true love!”

With an ice pack pressed to his face, George can only roll his eyes at the various comments for the rest of the night, despite it being his birthday.

My friends are very passionate about circumcised or uncircumcised penis’

Any opinion

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223/1975 Fan / He/Him Fan fiction Aspiring Writer

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