summary: matty gets a little too excited while making out with you at a house party.
tags: dlid!era matty. (all parties are above the age of eighteen.) 18+ SMUT. established relationship. making out. dry humping. cumming in pants. exhibitionism if you squint. weed consumption. references to alcohol consumption.
word count: 1578
You’re at a house party, but you’re way too stoned to remember who the host is. You think it might be the brother of whatever girl Ross is shagging at the moment or something along those lines, but it hardly matters — you and Matty would have shown up regardless of who was hosting. Your boyfriend’s never needed an excuse to attend a good party, and you’ve never needed an excuse to spend a Friday night getting fucked up with him.
Besides, the steady thrum of house music had faded into the background long ago, replaced by the gentle splashing sounds of a backyard pool. It was really only a matter of time before you and Matty found yourselves out here, far away from the noise and the relentless mess of bodies and heat trapped inside. Whoever’s house this is, they’re rich enough to have a deck and a pool, which is something that you two are taking full advantage of. The space provides much-needed privacy and, as it turns out, doubles as a perfect smoking spot.
At least, you two had come out here with the intention of smoking. But that only lasted about ten minutes — just long enough for you both to get a little spacey — before you decided that making out was a far better way to pass the time.
The spliff sits off to the side, having burned out long ago. Matty’s sprawled across one of the poolside loungers, hands gripping your waist as you straddle him. Your own hands have found their way to his jaw, holding his face in your hands as you kiss him deeply. Everything’s gone hazy, thanks to the weed, and sensations blend together as you lose yourself in his lips and tongue.
Matty’s warm and pliant under your fingertips, all soft skin and eager touches. The two of you are in no rush, basking in the laziness of the moment. Matty kisses like he’s trying to melt into you, as though tasting your lips is infinitely more important to him than getting air into his lungs. Your boyfriend’s always been needy, but something about tonight has him extra hungry for you.
You can’t help but giggle as Matty’s large hands suddenly tug you forward, pulling your hips flush with his own. He grinds against you lazily, just enough for you to feel his growing hard-on through his jeans and the way his fingers tighten against your skin as he grinds against your clothed core.
“Matty.” You pull away from the kiss, though you don’t go very far — his breath is still warm on your cheek. “We’re at a party.”
He laughs at your words, looking at you with a lopsided smirk that tells you all you need to know.
“Never stopped us before,” he counters, as though he’s confused about why you’re choosing now to be worried about public decency. “S’just us, love. Might as well feel good, yeah?”
He’s not wrong. And you would have told him as much, if it wasn’t for the fact that Matty’s lips immediately press into the spot on the side of your neck that drives you crazy, and you swear you feel his teeth drag along your earlobe as he rolls his hips against yours once more. The sensation makes your eyes flutter shut, and your head tilt back, which Matty takes as an invitation to start sucking a mark into the newly exposed skin. You whine softly, hands dropping down to hold onto his shoulders. It’s partially to keep him in place, but it’s mostly so that you have an anchor — you feel as though you could float away at any second if you’re not careful.
The next time Matty grinds against you, you respond, rolling your hips experimentally. You gasp into the cool night air as the seam of your boyfriend’s jeans catches against your clit deliciously, making your toes curl in your shoes.
“Oh fuck.” Matty’s voice comes in the form of a broken whine against your neck. “Do that again.”
So, you do, beginning to rock your hips against his in a slow, steady rhythm. Each time you move in his lap, you can feel the bulge in his jeans steadily pressing against your pussy, making your brain swim with pleasure. You don’t think this really counts as making out anymore, not with the two of you basically dry humping, but it feels so good you can’t bring yourself to care, and any concerns of public decency fade away into the back vault of your brain, long forgotten.
The weed heightens everything, making you even more sensitive. Every drag of clothing against your skin and every press of Matty’s lips against your own makes you feel like you’re on fire in the best way. Judging by the soft little groans slipping past Matty’s lips and the way he’s grabbing you like he’s afraid of you slipping away, he’s on a similar plane of existence and enjoying every second of it.
“Just like that, baby, fuckin’ hell,” Matty pants against your lips, breathless. “Feels s’good. Wish we weren’t stuck here so I could fuck you properly.”
His words make you clench around nothing and quicken your movements. You’re essentially dry-fucking him now, mimicking exactly how you’d ride him if you weren’t stuck at this party.
“Later,” you promise, and Matty’s lips curl into a tiger-like grin against your own, before whatever comeback he was going to say gets cut off by a deep throaty noise.
You feel it before you see it. Matty twitches beneath you, thigh muscles becoming taut and rigid. His fingers tighten around your ass with a bruising desperation, keeping you pressed against him and providing him with the friction he’s chasing.
A second later, you watch your boyfriend’s lips part, and his head falls back, hitting the hard plastic of the lounge chair with far too much force to be comfortable. It’s a sight you know well… and a sight that tells you exactly what just happened.
You stare at him for a few beats, watching as his chest rises and falls almost hypnotically. Matty’s eyes are glazed and unfocused as he basks in the high of his release. He’s gone.
“Did you just..?”
Matty doesn’t need to reply — you already know the answer. Even with the faint glow of a deck lantern serving as your only source of light, you can see that your boyfriend’s face is bright red. Curiously, you reach down between your two bodies and watch as Matty jumps when your hand brushes against his crotch. He whines again, suddenly overstimulated, and you slowly remove your hand, not wanting to make things worse for him.
You’re flattered, honestly, though you’re not sure if you’re just that hot or if the weed is just that good… probably a combination of both. Either way, the result is the same — your boyfriend just came in his pants like he was back in secondary school.
“Oh God…” Matty finally groans, embarrassed. He’s doing everything but meeting your gaze, all that brazen teenage sexuality long gone, crushed by the weight of his own mortification. “‘M sorry, I don’t know what happened, must’ve been… fuck.”
He tries to cover his face with his hands, but is quickly intercepted by you leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his nose, which, of course, only causes Matty to grow even redder.
“It’s cute.”
“S’not,” he protests. “It’s embarrassing. Haven’t done that shit in ages.”
“You mean… I’m not your first?” you ask, scandalized. “Matthew. I thought we had something special.”
“Oh… shut up.”
No matter how disgruntled he sounds, your boyfriend can’t entirely hide the small smile that he’s trying so hard to fight off. You laugh again, reaching up to cup his cheek. His skin feels electrified beneath your touch.
“It’s okay, baby,” you say softly. “Let’s get you cleaned up, and then we can head home.”
Never mind the fact that neither of you is in any state to drive – you’re sure there’s someone at this party who would be willing to give the two of you a ride. (Ideally, Ross, if you can pull him off of that brunette for long enough.)
But to your surprise, Matty shakes his head and timidly gestures down to the wet patch on the front of his dark jeans. It’s small, barely noticeable unless you’re really looking for it, but it’s clearly enough for him to be worried.
“You’re fine, baby,” you reassure him. “Everyone’s too pissed to notice. Unless they’re already looking down there, which they’d better not be.” You furrow your brows in a mock display of anger, hoping it will make him grin. He does, albeit ever so slightly. “‘Cause otherwise they’ll have me to answer to.”
“Ugh, fine.” Matty rolls his eyes, throwing his head back dramatically. “At least let me make it up to you when we get home.”
“And what exactly does that entail?”
“Mm…” He pauses, as though he doesn’t already know exactly what he’s going to say. “Let me tongue-fuck you ‘til you’re begging f’me to stop?”
“Jesus Christ, Matty.” Your boyfriend has a way with words that you don’t think you’ll ever fully get used to, no matter how long the two of you are together. You clear your throat, now painfully aware of the warm flush spreading across your own face. “Okay, yeah. Sure. You can do that.”
Matty’s face lights up like he’s a kid on Christmas morning. “Wicked.”
Pounding lights and glittering music paint your ears and fill your eyes to the very brim. And then, there's Matty. Forever slipping from your palms like glitter and promises.
DLID!Matty
WC: ~3.9k
CW: Sub-DLID!Matty x Dom-Fem!Reader, situationship-messiness, smut, (semi) protected sex, creampie (ew horrid word), cumplay if you squint, kissing, handjob, semi-public sex, praise kink, slight orgasm denial (M receiving) masturbation for like a millisecond (F), cursing, drinking, smoking, weed usage, slightly angsty (who's surprised, it's knockat102 for god's sake), allusions to violence
A/N: Oh my god this took me a whole lifetime to finish! I honestly had quite a hard time with this one, and if I'm being truthful, I don't love it, but I hope that you guys enjoy nonetheless! (Sorry if this is a bit shit xx)
“Matty! Get the fuck up you absolute wanker! I want to leave!” You smirk through your words despite the false anger painting them, punctuating your sentence by tossing a pillow over at a peacefully sleeping Matty, splayed across your couch.
“Oi!” He groans, rubbing his eyes.
“It’s a bloody Friday, and we’re going out.” There’s no hint of a question in your voice, and Matty knows it. When you’re in the mood to party, there is no force, no matter how strong, that can stop you. Thankfully, Matty is exactly the same way. Maybe some would call it reckless; you just call it living.
Matty rolls over, pushing his face further into the cushion. He had dozed off about an hour ago, practically seconds after he had arrived at your house. You had spent the time rustling through clothing and makeup, before settling on a lacy dress with some fishnets underneath. Your hair was teased and half up; your eyes painted in black and silver glitter, with your lips a deep maroon. You watched as Matty slowly rolled over, opening his eyes to see you towering over him. A smirk paints his face as he takes your frame in, eyes greedily mapping up from your thighs to your tits.
“Oi, eyes up here, Healy,” you snap, a laugh slipping out at the end. You liked this. Being here, in your house, with him. When the sun had long set and the only lights in the room were flushed pinks and neon purples. When the glitter on your eyelids caught his gaze in the glimmering rays of fluorescence.
Matty grins. You grin right back.
“So, where the fuck did you say we’re going to?” Matty’s voice is painted with the last reminisce of sleep, his appearance showing it much more heavily. He had been absolutely knackered when he arrived, likely tired from a long day of doing god knows what with god knows who. But, when he was here? None of that mattered. He could rest with you; rest in the uncertainty and the sureness and the sane-madness of it all. Of you two.
“The woods.”
“The woods?”
“Yeah, that’s what I said.”
Matty raises an eyebrow, squinting slightly.
“What do you mean ‘the woods’?”
“So, the woods are this place where there are loads of trees and they– oi!” Matty tosses the same pillow you had previously thrown at him back in your direction, hitting you across the chest.
“I know what the bloody woods are, Jesus," he laughs, “I meant what the fuck are we doing in the woods?”
You laugh, fixing up your now tousled hair.
“Some girl Ross has been messing around with and her mates are throwing a thing there, he texted me and said we should come.”
Matty scoffs, leaning back with a groan.
“How the fuck does Ross get more girls than I do?” He protests, “I mean, he’s fucking massive– he’s pratically a beast!”
You glare at Matty through mascara covered lashes, “Matty, you literally shagged me yesterday.”
Matty freezes, a blush finding his cheeks.
“T-that’s different.”
“Oh?”
Your voice is dripping in faux-intrigue, as if you are desperate to hear Matty’s pathetic interpretation of whatever this was.
“I-” he starts, “this feels like a trap.”
You smirk, taking a step closer.
“W-what do you want me to say?” He murmurs hesitantly.
You stop mere centimeters from him, slotting yourself between his stretched legs.
“I think I like you best when you’re not saying anything at all, Healy.”
Matty bites on his lip, consequently dragging a smile from you. You run a sure hand over his clothed thigh, stopping when your eyes gaze down to find him already half hard and straining against the black denim.
You liked having him like this. It was much easier to pretend he was yours when you had him squirming under your fingertips than when his side of your bed was empty and his lips were kissing another girls’.
“Pathetic– pull yourself together, mate.”
You turn, leaving his breathing heavy and uneven.
‘Mate’.
Matty rakes a hand through his unruly curls as he catches his breath.
“I hate you,” he manages to gasp out.
“Yet, you’re in my house?” You smirk, touching up your lipstick.
You turn back, taking a firm hold of his wrist in your palm, relishing in the way he looks utterly and entirely affected by your barely-there touches.
“C’mon,” you start, “I don’t want all the beer to be gone by the time we get there!”
You hear something like a groan covered by an incredibly un-slick cough escape Matty’s mouth, drawing your gaze to his direction.
“What was that, Healy?”
You make a point of letting your eyes fall heavy onto his trousers, somehow looking even tighter now over the obvious bulge that had formed.
You smirk as his eyes follow yours, snapping back quickly to your face. He knows far better than to test you when you get like this– all irritated and domineering. He also knows that things are much more likely to go his way if he just sits back and lets you handle him.
“Nothing.”
“That’s what I thought.” you give his wrist a squeeze, accompanied by a sickly sweet smile.
You feel his pulse jump under your fingers.
God, how you loved the feeling of his skin against yours; heartbeat dancing.
God, how he loved your shimmering eyelids; pupils sharp as blades.
God, how you love whatever this is.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Pink and blue lights prance across your field of vision as you stumble into the woods, Matty’s hand still tightly in yours.
The walk was quick– not nearly long enough to constitute a drive. Plus, the extra few minutes gave you the opportunity to smoke the spliff you had rolled earlier that afternoon without prying, greedy hands of partygoers trying to get a hit or two.
The sky had long gone dark, the silhouette of tall, winding branches all that was left above you.
Hazy warmth blushes through your blood and tingles at your fingertips, brushing mindless circles into Matty’s skin.
Ribbons dangled from low-hanging branches; you watch as Matty twirls one around his digits with his free hand.
“Reckon we’re getting close, now?” Matty asks, temporarily pulling you out of your cloudyminded state.
“Yeah, I hear music I think,” you respond airily, mind in the clouds.
You catch a smirk spread across Matty’s face as you speak.
It was no secret how funny he found it that even after all of these years of doing god knows what together, you were still a proper lightweight. Or, at least, compared to him, that was.
He openly reveled in your foggy state of mind, rarely holding back from teasing you.
More often than not, he was still met with quite the retaliatory effort from you– even when high out of your mind. He found it cute. You knew he did.
Another few steps ahead, you feel as though you have been smacked with sound; heavy bass and streaming light wash over the both of you as the crowds distort into a murky swamp of colour and sweat.
Matty spots Ross before you do, signaling you with a squeeze of your palm.
“Oi! Ross!” He shouts out, his hand dropping yours suddenly in favour of creating a make-shift megaphone with his palms. “Oi! Over here!”
After a few more shouts from the both of us, Ross turns to face us, a lazy smile plastered onto his face.
You turn to Matty, voice low, “god, he’s already bloody hammered, isn’t he?”
Matty grins, “let’s hope so– I was bored anyways.”
“Y/N!!” Ross nearly shouts, slurring the last syllable, “You came! And, you brought Healy!”
You keep your cool tone, any remnants of your previous height sinking lower and lower as you realize you and Matty are the significantly more sober parties in the conversation.
You let out a gaspy laugh as you focus your eyes, several smeared streaks of purple and red painted across Ross’s face and neck. Maybe he really was getting some action.
“Oh, you can fuck right off,” he sneers, wiping his face with an obvious lack of dexterity, “it’s a party for god’s sake!”
Matty laughs, slinging an arm around your shoulder. “Oh, we know.” He smirks suggestively, pulling you closer, arm finding your waist and squeezing slightly, pulling a sharp laugh from your parted lips.
Ross was no stranger to your somewhat-odd public displays of affection; nonetheless, he never failed to look endlessly disgusted by it. God, he really didn’t know the half of it.
He didn’t know the way you had Matty squirming for you at the simple brush of your hands.
The way the hair stood up on his arms when you whispered how ‘good’ he was after what seemed like lifetimes of bringing him right to the edge, but never quite letting him fall off.
The way he liked his hair pulled and back mauled by your sharp nails when he was feeling needy.
He certainly didn’t know how much you enjoyed it; how much you thought about it.
How much you wondered if it was all just a game to him.
“Save some of the chicks for the rest of us, mate– seriously it’s unfair,” Matty groans. His hands are still on you. You cringe ever so slightly; he doesn’t notice.
“Piss off,” Ross huffs, “I’m getting another drink.” He disappears into the crowd; the wall of rubbing fabric and sparkling makeup generates enough heat to draw a bead of sweat down Matty’s forehead despite your intentional distance from the epicenter.
“So,” Matty turns to you, eyes glittering, “I guess Ross is a bit too preoccupied to hang ‘round with us, then?”
You smile, rolling your shoulders softly as you try to shake off all of the damn thinking you’ve been doing. This was a party, afterall.
“Fuckin’ loud here,” Matty complains, running a hand through his hair absentmindedly, “Fancy sitting down somewhere?”
It was funny– for two people who seemingly went out constantly, you and Matty seemed to always end up tucked away somewhere; a corner, a bathroom, or as you were now, backs pressed against an oak tree, hidden away from the flashing lights and streamers hung over branches.
Matty had lit another spliff, all while complaining that you had ‘hogged the first oneI’. Classic.
He takes a slow, lazy drag, letting the smoke curl into the cool evening air.
The skin of your back is prickled by the bark of the tree, your hair slightly caught in the moss. You glance over– Matty looks…God.
Matty looks beautiful: lips plush and wrapped around the filter, eyes a bit red at the corners. His hair is a mess, and his cheeks glitter softly, likely with some highlighter he snagged from your makeup bag.
You smile– if not for your growing desire swirling low in your stomach, (only perpetuated by the earlier high and the shots you had downed before secluding yourself deeper into the forest), then for your sheer gratitude for getting to see him like this.
Matty looked like a puppy– no, maybe that wasn’t right.
Maybe he looked more like a deer.
He was strong and slender– pale and ashy.
He carried everything that was dark and gave out to the world only that which was light.
You snatch the spliff from his fingers, taking a long drag of your own before passing it back to him, blowing smoke across his face as you did.
“You look pretty, Healy.”
Matty’s eyes catch yours, but he doesn’t dare respond.
He knows this is a losing game; you’re both high, but more than that, you’re both here. You’re here as one. He’s been with you enough times to know that if he wants to feel good when you’re like this, he needs to sit back and let you.
“Look at you.” you coo, eyes scanning over his body like he was prey. If he was a deer, then you were a hunter. “Having fun?”
Matty nods, and you swear you can see desire swirling across his blacked-out pupils.
“Thought so,” you move closer, thighs pressing against his, “you always look so pretty when you’re having fun, baby.”
Matty has to actively fight the moan-like-sound that stirs in his throat at the petname– knowing that if he made any wrong moves, you would leave him needy and reeling.
You run a sure finger up Matty’s chest, stopping when your digit reaches his chin. You lean forward, pressing your painted lips against his, only pulling back to see the stain that the red had left behind. Your deer, marked with blood, the wounds of your arrows.
“Tell me what you want.”
Matty makes a grumbled noise, a greedy hand snaking around your back in a sad attempt to plant you atop his lap.
“Words, pretty boy,” you stay cemented beside him, not moving in the slightest until you get what you want, “need to hear you, you know that.”
Matty bites down on his lip, discarding the burnt-down joint beside him before placing his attention onto you. For a moment, you wonder if he is genuinely lost for words– he just sits there looking at you blankly; a deer in fucking headlights.
“Need some help?” You smile sweetly as you run your hand back down his chest, stopping just before the waistline of his jeans, and making a point of noticing the bulge forming beneath them.
“When did this happen?” You smirk, tapping once on his clothed hardness.
Matty near moans as you do, body shivering at even the slightest contact.
“‘Dunno…” Matty manages to gasp out, voice weak and unsure. He was too damn cute like this– all malleable and airy-headed in your hands. You could practically feel his brains melting right out of his ears as you began to palm him through the denim, coaxing a groan from his pink lips.
“Want me to touch you like this, gorgeous?”
You watch with hunger in your eyes as Matty nods aggressively, eyes screwed shut tightly in pleasure.
Suddenly, your hands are off him– a weak sob falling from Matty’s mouth in response.
“Need to hear you say it, ‘kay?” The corners of your mouth perk up as you watch Matty process the request in real time. It never failed to amaze you just how gone he became every time you took control. A deer running for his life in the forest.
“N-need you to touch me,” he pleads, eyes beginning to tear up as he thrusts helpless against nothing. He is straining intensely against the fabric of his jeans, and you can tell it is nearly cutting off circulation. “I-i’m so hard it hurts…just need to– ah!”
You cut him off before he can plead any more, unzipping his fly and relieving the slightest bit of pressure. You tap his hip twice and he raises it, allowing you to slip the tight-black garment down his slender thighs.
You run a hand over his hard cock, noticing a dark spot where the precum had already stained the dark fabric. You stroke him through the fibers, watching with a grin as he melts into the wood behind him.
“Wanna see you, pretty boy,” you lean close, pressing your lips into the soft skin below his ear, “is that okay?”
“Mhm…please…need you,” Matty’s voice is lighter than before. All of his characteristic cocky-confidence is entirely lost under the heat of your hands.
You slide your fingers under the fabric of his underwear, letting his throbbing dick slap back against his stomach. You shift onto his lap, straddling him with a practiced ease.
Matty opens his deep, brown eyes for the first time in minutes, and you swear he nearly faints when he sees the sight. It didn’t seem to matter how many times you two slept together, touched each other, or did anything for that matter– Matty looked like a kid on Christmas every time he got to see you.
A creeping thought weaves its way into your head– did he look like this with the other girls too?
A soft gasp falling from Matty’s mouth pulls you back into reality as he ruts his hips against yours. You smirk, letting him chase his pleasure momentarily before stilling his movements with your steady hands.
“Did I say you could move?”
Matty stills, fear and something that looked rather like arousal painting his expression. He shakes his head no. You smile.
“That’s what I thought,” you press a kiss onto his forehead, skin warm against your lips, “now be a good boy and stay still for me, alright? Gonna use you since you’ve been so damn needy.”
Matty mewls as you begin to stroke him, not before spitting with an obscene groan onto your hand.
Dirty, slick noises fill the night air, the only other noise audible being the faint sound of trashy house music from the party that the pair of you had long abandoned.
The sight below you is near pornographic: Matty, bottomless, cock leaking into your hand, and you: fully clothed and atop of his bony hips.
Your lips meet his as you lean down, a sure hand still working him closer and closer to the edge.
You feel his muscles go taut against you, and you press a flat hand against his lower stomach to only further the feeling.
“Feel you getting close, honey,” you whisper against his lips, “gonna come for me, sweet boy?”
Matty moan against you, rutting his hips into your fist like a vice.
“S-so…please…need to cum…”
You smirk as you slow your pace, not quite letting him reach the high he had been so desperately running towards.
“No!” Matty chokes out a pathetic sob, eyes flying open and full of terror as your hand continues to slow. “W-why’d you stop? ‘Was so close…” He throbs in your hand; the head of his dick angry and red. You lean back, taking him all in. He’s flushed and covered in a thin sheen of sweat– his eyes are dark with lust and his brain seems to be devoid of any substantive thoughts.
He may not be yours, but right now, he belongs to no one else.
He’s your favourite game, and he’s just too easy to hit.
“Relax, pretty,” you coo, biting softly against his neck, leaving behind a red mark in the place of your teeth, “‘s not fair if only you get to feel good, is it?” You watch as he nods, nearly looking embarrassed that he had come so close to a release without accounting for you. “Don’t I deserve to feel good too? After all that I’ve done for you, baby?”
Matty looks at you as if you were a god. Little did he know you were the hunter that held the arrow he was forever hung from– wrists punctured and heart bleeding. All that he knew was that you were here. That you were the living embodiment of all that he desired and all that terrified him– he knew that you made him feel so good it was saintly.
You make quick work of getting your bottoms off, leaving behind nothing but your lace panties, already soaked through. Maybe, with another man, you would have been embarrassed by how wet you were– not with Matty. Matty looked as if he would gladly drink every last bit of you up like water if it meant getting to touch you, or rather, be touched by you.
You pump his own slick precum down his dick, sneaking your free hand into your panties and rapidly circling your neglected bundle of nerves. You stifle back a moan, and you’re sure Matty does the same; his hips meeting your hand with every flick of your wrist.
“Wanna feel you…please…need to be, uh, in you…” Matty’s voice is low– unsure. As if he was scared to speak his mind, worried you would leave him teetering on the edge once again.
You smile in response, “there’s my boy,” you give his dick a squeeze, “using his words so good f’ me, yeah?”
Matty nods, melting into the pleasure happily.
Your lips find his once more as your free hand slides the lace barrier away from your entrance, letting his head circle the pooling wetness. He slides in with a whine, and you clench around him immediately.
The stretch was delicious– familiar, but never diminished.
You two were no strangers to sex. You were no stranger to taking control. Yet, this moment, the one where he enters you, where he splits you open and leaves you gasping for air as you are pulled under– it is the one moment where you feel like the deer. His arrow pierces you just as yours pierces him. How utterly tragic. How perfectly orgasmic.
Once you are sure he is ready, you begin to move your hips against his. You can tell he won’t last long, his face distorting in pleasure with every thrust. It’s perfect. He is yours.
“Fuck– please…so close…” Matty whimpers, skin glowing red even in the pale moonlight.
“Yeah? Gonna be a good boy and cum for me?”
You move faster, feeling your insides re-arrange for him as he hits spots even deeper within you. The sounds of skin against skin echo through the halls of trees, your gasps punctuating every last movement. You feel yourself clench once, twice more and you know you won’t last long either.
Your hands find Matty’s waist, squeezing and pulling on the skin. He looks utterly pitiful below you, spewing endless moans and crys.
“Gonna—fuck! Gonna cum…please…”
He’s nearly begging now, holding on for dear life as you increase your pace.
“So good for me,” you manage to gasp out whilst holding onto the edge of your own orgasm, “asking so damn nice– shit, c’mon, gorgeous,” you press an open mouthed kiss into his neck and feel his dick twitch, “cum for me.”
Matty grabs desperately onto the last of his cohesiveness, his eyes locking on yours.
“W-where?”
“Inside. Pill. Matty, now.”
The words serve as more than approval for him– they allow yourself to let go as well. You cum in tandem, waves of ecstasy washing over you, pulling your intertwined bodies deeper and deeper down into the sea of pleasure.
Matty spews hot, white ropes deep into you. You watch in pure wonder as Matty reels below you, body twisting and arching and melting into the soil beneath the two of your frames.
He is wrecked. You’ve caught him.
You lean closer into him, letting your bodies collide into one another. The hunter and their prey.
“Feeling good, Healy?”
Matty bears a blissed-out smile, utterly destroyed and perfectly happy to be so.
“Thank you. Thank you– god, ‘felt amazing.”
You smile right back, kissing his cheek as you catch your breath.
The two of you lay there for a moment. He pulls out eventually, watching as his pearls cascade out of you messily.
The music from the party is long-forgotten in the distance. The surroundings matter less and less with every passing moment.
You lace a hand through Matty’s messy curls– damp with sweat and smelling of desire.
You hold him tight; your prized game, won so valiantly.
You liked having him like this.
It was easy to pretend.
You hear a yell in the distance– partygoers far too drunk and horny.
Let you put your hands on me in my skin-tight jeans
Be your teenage dream tonight <3
Contains: Drive Like I Do!Matty, slightly subby Matty, first times, young love 🥲, dry humping, hair pulling, Matty being a down bad dork, giggly little mishaps, guided fingering, unsubtle dirty talk, protected penetrative sex, hand-holding during sex, Matty fighting for his life not to cum, first L word
Fem! Reader
WC: ~7.8k
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2007ish: Completely inexperienced but so eager, Matty and his girlfriend have their first time
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Matty can hardly shut the door before your hands are on him, you’re all over him in every sense of the term. You crush your lips to his, making him stumble slightly from the force of your kiss. He smiles against your mouth at your impatience, his chuckle swallowed by the eager locking of your lips. You feel your head swim, almost dizzy at the passion being exchanged as trembling hands reach for everything they can touch, it’s almost like your brain is dripping down your spine. Matty’s fingers knot into your hair as he walks you backward until you’re pressed against his front door. You can practically feel his adrenaline thrumming in his veins, rushing to his every nerve as he licks into your mouth with fervor. He’s still brimming with the rush from his gig, and you’re reeling from the memory of watching him perform. It’s honestly a miracle you’d made it inside his house at all considering the frenzied heat burning you both up from the inside, the flames fanned by the knowledge of what’s planned for the night. Every kiss is sealed with the promise of more.
You can feel the heat radiating off of Matty’s body as he keeps you trapped between his lanky frame and the door, your teeth slightly clashing with his from the intensity of the kiss. He pulls away to catch his breath, panting hot fans of air over your lips as he grins at you widely, toothily.
“What?” you prompt, breathless, pursing your lips playfully.
Matty swallows thickly, seemingly frozen for a moment as his eyes search your face, quietly observing your touseled hair, swollen lips, cheeks tinged a lovely shade of pink: his new favorite shade of pink. He shakes his head, his thick, dark (and messily side-parted) hair swaying.
“Nothing, nothing. Sorry. I just–” he pauses, glancing away for a moment like your stare is burning a hole into him, “I dunno… you look very pretty tonight.”
Something sparks in you at that, the realization that Matty, your Matty, was getting a little shy, trying to hide it by looking everywhere but at you. When he finally glances back, finding you a little awestruck, he just smiles fondly, his lips almost a little wobbly. He makes a surprised noise as you pull him by the collar of his shirt into another heated kiss, his hands pawing down your back to hastily grasp the curve of your ass through your jeans. He presses himself impossibly closer to you, his hips flush against yours as excitement thickens the air around you. A tingly shiver rushes through you, leaving blooming warmth in its wake as you feel the tenting in his pants protruding against you. Matty pulls away from your mouth, beginning to press wet, open-mouthed kisses to your neck. You can feel the sound of a low groan rumbling through his chest as he licks a stripe from your collarbones to your jawline.
His hips make a sudden, reflexive jump forward as you tighten your grip on his hair, tugging just enough to draw a wanton moan from his lips. Matty chokes, a new, fizzling sensation arising in him as he realizes just how damn good that felt. Tentatively, he tries again, rolling his hips into you and immediately cursing under his breath at the feeling. Your eyes go wide as the seam of your jeans catches on you just right while he begins to mindlessly search for friction against you. You let out mirrored, breathy moans as Matty lifts his head from the crook of your neck, the both of you staring at each other in awe of your little discovery, sparks flying like stray shooting stars. His gentle, dark eyes twinkle as he watches your expression closely, kiss-bitten lips parted and shining.
“O-oh shit,” he murmurs, his eyes rolling back slightly as he continues to grind into you.
The friction is dizzying as you begin to rock into him, matching his slightly stuttered rhythm as you sigh out, giving his dark tresses another pull with the fingers intertwined in his hair. Matty reaches for your thighs, grasping at the back of them pointedly to get your attention. He’d seen it in a music video before, one that his mother wouldn’t approve of him watching on late-night MTV. The girl had jumped up to straddle the guy's waist while they kissed passionately against the wall. That little scene had been nestled in his mind ever since he saw it, he was frankly a little obsessed with it. How hard could it be to replicate?
“Straddle me,” he pants, his greedy fingertips digging into the denim of your jeans.
“What? How?” you whisper, feeling almost lightheaded at the suggestion.
“Just- erm… jump, I’ll catch you, yeah?”
You just laugh, shaking your head with a bit of uncertainty, but Matty seems anything but uncertain. He stares back at you with determined eyes, his hands twitching like they’re ready to hold your weight up at any moment. With nothing to lose (except your tailbone in one piece), you jump and wrap your legs around Matty’s slender hips with a squeak. His eyes go wide as he wobbles slightly, but his hands firmly grasp your thighs to keep you upright, seeming absolutely petrified at the idea of dropping you. Your eyes lock and you share a triumphant, breathy laugh while you place your hands around his neck, Matty beaming at you boyishly.
Heat prickles at your cheeks as you realize just how much more distinctly you can feel him through his skinny jeans in this position. Experimentally, you rock your hips forward, relishing in the way Matty’s mouth drops with a gasp, his brows drawing together tightly. His head bows forward, his forehead dropping to your shoulder with a resounding “fuck”, the pressure in his pants only getting achier. You can feel him twitch beneath the measly layers of fabric.
Within only seconds, you’re both eagerly moving against each other, gasping as the heat between you gets more intense with every needy roll of your hips. Matty whines, his face buried in the crook of your neck amidst the frenzied chase for sensation, he could swear he’s never been so hot and bothered. Neither of you is thinking, you let your bodies speak everything your hazy minds could never express. You’ve never felt so insatiable in your whole life. Hot, liquid need is corroding you, it’s building to new heights, it’s–
Suddenly, Matty’s whole body tenses against you, a strangled noise tearing through him that sparks a flutter between your thighs. He presses his hips forward hard as if trying to pin you against the door with his body so tightly that you wouldn’t move, his blunt fingernails biting into your skin through your pants. Your eyes go wide at the way your boyfriend has just about seized up, your body going stagnant against his.
“Wait-wait, fuck, just slow down a second, I-I’m actually gonna cum in my pants if you keep doing that. Fucking hell,” he rambles, barely able to get the words out as he gasps for breath, utterly flushed.
The revelation washes over you like an electrifying wave, your lips parting with surprise. The knowledge that he’d almost creamed his skinny jeans just from some kissing and grinding makes you feel almost… powerful. Pride warmly simmers in your chest as you gently pet his hair, watching him with a bit of fascination.
Matty desperately clutches at your thighs, his breath hot and heavy against your neck as he wills his body to get back under his control. He’s internally cursing himself for getting so carried away, almost letting this end before it had even begun. He mutters out a breathless apology, his soft lips grazing your skin. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t suppressing a giggle at the moment, forcing your lips not to crack with a smile.
“Fuck me! You’re a menace,” Matty groans, biting at your shoulder in retaliation.
“What is wrong with you!?” you protest, giggling as he lightly sinks his teeth into your skin, grinning while he does it. You’d argue that if anyone’s a menace, it’s him.
He soothes over the mark he left with his tongue, finally loosening his vice grip on your legs now that he’s not seconds away from embarrassing himself. Matty lifts his head up, gently pressing his forehead to yours, gazing at you quietly while you toy with his hair, rendering his brain practically useless with how nice it feels. His eyes are searching yours, staring back at you with pupils so blown, his eyes look almost black.
“Do you wanna go up to your room?” you whisper, the implications making Matty’s breath catch in his throat.
He doesn’t even let the question hang in the air for an entire second before he replies, practically tripping over his words. “Yeah. Yes, absolutely,” he says, his voice cracking slightly as he tries to contain his excitement.
You smile at him, ruffling his hair just to watch him keen into your palm. Matty slowly eases you back down onto your wobbly legs. He snickers at the way your knees buckle slightly, earning him a smack on the arm as you start to chase him up the stairs, bounding your way to his bedroom as fast as your legs can carry you while his loud laugh echoes through the empty house.
Once you reach his door, Matty insists that you let him go inside first to set things up. You snort at the way he opens the door just wide enough for him to shimmy through the slim crack, not wanting you to see his room unprepared. You shake your head at his pure, unbridled dorkiness, but really, you can’t ignore the way it affects you to know how much he cares. Many boys your age would have already finished up with you in their dingy room after a sloppy affair of shallow thrusts and a faked orgasm on a bed with no sheets.
What you can’t see beyond the door is Matty fishing in his pockets for his lighter after setting out candles he’s “borrowed” from his mother’s bathroom. He’d picked up a few small, unscented candles from the ledge of her bathtub, wrinkling his nose at the intense, unsexy aroma of jasmine and mahogany ones they were surrounded by. Matty carefully lights each of the scattered candles, trying his hardest to control the slight nervous quiver in his hands. He nods, satisfied at the way the amber glow hazily paints his walls (girls dig stuff like that, right?).
He watched the gentle flickering of the flames for a moment, making sure nothing was going to catch fire before he moved to his next task, reaching into one of his cluttered drawers for a CD he’d burned for the occasion. He thought it’d be far too cliche to actually write “sex playlist” on the disc, instead opting for the more tasteful scribble of your initials put together. He’d spent hours trying to compile the perfect list of songs to soundtrack an intimate moment, getting a little lost in imagining how your gasps of pleasure would intertwine with the music.
Matty grins to himself as he glances around the room, everything set in place how he’d imagined it, perfectly organized teenage boy chaos. He’d even made his bed for once, flannel sheets tucked back and smoothed the best that he could.
Just as he was about to open the door, a particular piece of wall decor caught his eye: a magazine cutout of a topless model glaring from the corner of his room. He gives the nameless model a once-over, hesitating for a moment before crossing the room and tearing it off of the wall, the scotch tape flaking away bits of paint. It felt cool at the time, very cool. But now he’s pretty sure he’d rather fling himself from the window than let you see it, god forbid compare yourself to it.
A soft grunge song plays quietly in the background as Matty swings the door open, arching his eyebrows at you boyishly. You roll your eyes and push past him, admiring how unusually in order his bedroom is, grateful to not be slipping on a t-shirt strewn on the floor as you cross the room to his bed. As you take a seat on the edge of it, Matty trails behind you, watching with a love-struck, dorky smile pulling at his lips. He almost trips over his feet to sit down next to you when you motion for him to come, curling a finger in his direction. Matty kicks off his beat-up sneakers and slips his graphic t-shirt over his head on the way, revealing his lean torso. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel the same giddiness bubbling inside you, unable to suppress a fond smile as the bed dips under his weight.
“Cute candles,” you whisper, drawing him closer, “are they for me?”
“Nah, I have them out all the time. It’s kinda a new thing I’m–”
You stop him mid sarcastic quip by pressing your lips to his (with no protests from Matty). Between exchanges of sweet kisses, Matty reaches out for the hem of your shirt, his eyes searching your face as he waits for your permission, his breath bated. You nod at him, watching as he shudders with excitement, bursting at the seams. He pulls the fabric upwards while biting his lower lip raw, ogling you as more and more of your soft skin is exposed to him.
Matty’s eyes nearly pop out of his head as he spots the lace of your bra, revealed to match your panties as you squirm out of your jeans, letting them crumple to the floor in a heap. He swiftly lifts your shirt the rest of the way off, carelessly tossing it over his shoulder. His Adam’s apple bobs with a thick swallow.
“Fuck,” he mutters.
His brain might as well be short-circuiting, his hands frozen in place, hovering by your sides as he shamelessly stares at the way your breasts look, snug in the intricately patterned lace, the heart locket he’d saved up to get you for your birthday sitting perfectly between them. Your heart thrums against your ribs as you watch his hungry eyes rove over you, heat simmering at your cheeks as you wait for him to do something, anything. The silence from the normally motor-mouthed boy feels like somewhat of an accomplishment.
Slowly, a pleased smile spreads across Matty’s face, one of his hands gingerly moving to trace a single finger across the lace of your bra, delicately running over the cups with pure awe written all over his face.
“Oh my god… did you get this for me? Shit, that’s so mint,” he beams, his eyes twinkling.
“Please don’t say “That’s so mint” when we’re about to have sex.”
Matty’s eyes flicker up to your face with a start, his thick eyebrows shooting upwards as if he’d just realized the words that had come out of his mouth, his hand pausing its gentle exploration.
“Erm, right. I meant incredibly hot and sexy and beautiful and hot. Yeah. Did I mention hot already?” he clarifies, smiling sheepishly, “Can I touch more?”
You let out an amused exhale through your nose before permitting him, watching his pretty eyes light up. When you’d bought the set at the mall, you imagined his hands would be all over you, tearing it off like gift wrapping the first chance he got. A beautiful first impression left forgotten on the floor of his bedroom. But he doesn’t. Matty carefully brings his palms to your breasts, his breath hitching as he cups them, feeling their weight. Experimentally, he gives them a squeeze, a shudder running through his lanky body. He smiles up at you giddily, his cheeks flushed as he looks at you like you’re nothing less than his entire world.
“Can… can I kiss them, too?” he whispers tentatively.
A soft pant is stolen from your lips at the question. Wordlessly you bring your hand to the back of his head, your fingers entangling in his hair as you guide him forward. Matty’s eyes swim with wonderment as he brings his mouth to the swell of your breast in a tender kiss. He moans softly, lashes fluttering as he trails his lips along the edge of the lace, mouthing a slow line up to the satin strap as his hands continue to knead your chest.
A slight smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth as he sees the blissful look on your face, quickly wiped away as you gently tug on the strands of hair caught between your fingers. Matty’s eyebrows draw together, running his tongue over his plush bottom lip before he dips his head down to the valley between your breasts, pressing a kiss to your gold locket. Somehow, it feels even more intimate than his lips on your skin.
“You’re so beautiful…” he whispers against the pendant.
Matty’s nimble fingers snake up your back, feeling over the warmth of your skin almost with reverence. He leans his cheek against the softness of your chest, nuzzling his face into you as his hands work to undo the hooks of your bra. You feel him blindly fumbling with the band for a few moments before it comes loose, allowing him to fully trace his fingertips down the expanse of your spine.
Slowly, Matty eases you backward, laying you down onto his sheets with such gentleness that your heart aches, the straps of your bra sliding down your arms at gravity’s manipulation. He slots himself between your legs, his slim hips settling against yours before finally allowing his gaze to drop to your bare chest, sucking in a sharp breath. You feel him twitch against your thigh through his skin-tight pants as he breathes out something strained and incoherent.
Matty begins to lean down, in turn accidentally pulling on your hair that’s trapped under his palm. You jolt, quickly reaching to grab his wrist with a hiss. He freezes above you for a split second before pulling away, staring down at his hand like he’d been seared. He looks absolutely petrified as he glances back at you, apologies spilling from his lips like opened floodgates, asking if you’re alright. You can’t help but giggle at the pure horror on his face as if he’d ripped out a section of your hair.
“Matty,” you whisper, smiling warmly as you reach and cup his face, running your thumbs over his burning cheeks, “it’s okay, I’m fine!”
You watch the tension slowly melt away from his rigid posture as he nods slowly, a sheepish smile pulling at his lips. It isn’t long before he’s giggling along with you, leaning his forehead against yours as you laugh, Matty’s music playing quietly in the background.
“You’re… so perfect,” he murmurs in between laughter, his breathless giggles making his tone sound giddy, “I mean that… you’re just so-” he doesn’t finish as he dives forwards, silencing himself by pressing his lips against yours.
You’re both smiling into the kiss, barely able to move your lips because of the way you’re grinning, ending up bumping teeth more than making out. Matty’s hands envelop your breasts, gently thumbing over your pebbling nipples, making you sigh into his mouth happily. He groans against your lips, the heat between you spiking again and he pulls away just enough to speak, his lips brushing against yours as he continues to flick his thumbs.
“Fuck. Can I finger you? Really want to make you cum,” he murmurs, his eyes darting over your face.
Your eyes widen at his blunt question, heat flushing through your body as your breath gets stuck in your throat. How can he just say that so casually?
“Christ, Matty!” you whisper-shout, your fingers tensing at the sides of his face.
He tilts his head at you, blinking much like a clueless puppy, clearly not having a grasp of the nuances of subtle dirty talk. Though he certainly hadn’t spun his words with any flowery language, there was something about his lack of finesse that was… a little hot. He was saying exactly what he was thinking, and you suppose that rawness has its own kind of appeal.
“Is… is that a no?” he frowns, tilting his chin down dejectedly as he looks up at you through his lashes, his hands slowing to a stop.
“No– no babe,” you answer quickly resuming the gentle running of your thumbs over his flushed cheeks with a breathless laugh, “You can’t just say things like that.”
“Why not?”
You realize that you don’t have much of an answer for him, not when he’s looking at you with such sweetness, such eagerness to make you feel good. You shake your head softly, leaning up to kiss the tip of his nose, causing his face to scrunch up with a chuckle, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
“Yes, you can touch me,” you whisper, watching a slow grin spread across his lips.
Matty places a quick kiss on your lips before sitting up to slowly hook his fingers into the waistband of your panties, gently tugging them down your legs with the aid of you lifting your hips off of the mattress. He sucks in a breath as you slowly spread your legs for him, a burning feeling swelling inside you as you let yourself be exposed to him, to anyone, for the first time. Insecurity rattles in your head and gnaws at your insides, but when you see the look on your boyfriend’s face, the whole world stops.
Matty lays on his side next to you, his hand coming to your inner thigh as he gently strokes his thumb over your soft skin, eyes unable to stay in one place as he gawks at the sight of you naked in his bed. His girl. In his bed. No clothes. He’s not entirely sure that he’s not dreaming.
Tentatively, Matty allows his hand to skim up your thigh, swallowing hard as he feels more of the heat emanating from between your legs the higher he goes. You force yourself to keep breathing, watching his trembling hand as he musters up the courage to cup your heat, listening to his gasp as he feels the slickness at his calloused fingertips. Tingling sensations flood your senses at the contact, a throb resounding between your legs at the uproar of unfamiliar feelings. You’re hyperaware of each of his fingers as you feel him experimentally dip them into your pooling arousal, the sight of Matty’s hand between your thighs alone is enough to make your face burn, your heart race.
“You’re so wet,” he whispers, the word “wet” coming out like a secret just between the two of you.
Matty glances up at your face, watching your expression carefully as he slowly begins to move his fingers, sliding them back and forth through the wetness, feeling your honeyed folds spread under the gentle pressure of his fingertips. You meet his gaze as your lips part with a shaky breath, his pupils blown wide as he continues his exploratory grazes.
With his slick middle finger, he feels over you till he finds your slit, slowly pushing inside of you. Matty moans lowly as if he’s the one being pleasured, his gaze transfixed on the sight of his single finger sinking into you, easily being taken into your tight warmth until he’s knuckle deep. His hips instinctively jerk forward, rutting his clothed erection against your leg as you share a mirrored, shuddering exhale. Matty’s fingers feel starkly different than your own, they’re thicker, and longer, with guitar calluses at each of his fingertips that graze your velvety walls.
The sensation feels foreign, but not uncomfortable as he begins to gradually pump the digit in and out of you, the both of you watching his maneuvers with widened eyes. He doesn’t have much rhythm, but he’s trying his best to learn as he goes. And god… the look on his face. He’s eager, so eager.
“Is- is this good?” he asks hesitantly, his eyes searching your expression for approval.
You bite your lower lip, not fully knowing how to walk the fine line between guiding him and embarrassing him. The feeling of his finger inside you is enough to make you pant, to make heat stir inside you, but certainly not enough to make you cum.
“It’s good, babe. But, what feels really good is when you touch…” you whisper, beginning to gently guide his thumb to your aching clit, “Here.”
Matty’s lips part with an “oh”, his cheeks flushing slightly at your correction. He allows you to direct his hand, lightly brushing his thumb over the swollen bundle of nerves with gentle uncertainty. You jolt slightly at the fizzling spark of pleasure that courses through you. That’s much… much better.
You feel Matty shudder as you place your fingers over his thumb, pressing the digit down more firmly as you guide him to move in slow, tight circles in tandem with the pumping of his middle finger. Sighing out, you begin to roll your hips against his hand in search of more friction. You can feel Matty’s stare burning into you even as your eyes squeeze shut, the boy focusing so intensely on your every reaction to gauge if he’s doing a good job.
“Does that feel good, baby?” he asks, sinking a second finger inside you as he lets you puppeteer his hand, studying your face.
“Yes… yes,” you gasp, your lashes fluttering as the heat and tension whirl, coiling tighter in your belly.
“You sound so pretty,” he murmurs breathlessly, looking like he wants to bottle up all the noises you make and keep them for himself, “Can I try on my own?”
Your eyes flutter open hazily, catching sight of his flushed features, his widened eyes. You nod at him, slowly pulling your hand back and resting it on your stomach. Matty bites his lip with concentration, doing his best to mimic what you’d shown him. Silently, he promises himself that one day this will all be muscle memory and he’ll know how to effortlessly make you feel good whenever you want him to, be at your beck and call.
His thumb works against you diligently, drawing those same tight circles as you’d shown him while he continues to work you open with his fingers. He’s so entirely focused and excited that absolutely nothing else matters at this moment except making you fall apart and finding out what you look like when totally lost in pleasure. Will you call out his name like you do in his daydreams?
“Matty… breathe,” you remind him, smiling fondly at your hell-bent boy.
Matty blinks up at you, his ministrations faltering for a moment before he lets out a breath that he didn’t even realize he was holding. A bashful smile twitches at the corner of his kiss-bitten lips.
“Right, right… can’t make a girl finish if you’re passed out,” he murmurs, leaning to kiss the top of your breast sweetly.
Matty suddenly curls his fingers inside you, crooking them forward just in time for them to catch against your sweet spot. Instantly, you mewl and rock into his hand a little harder. He shudders as he feels your walls clench around his digits, imagining what that would feel like around his– he shakes his head quickly, trying not to get ahead of himself.
“Here? Right here?” he gasps, watching in awe as your expression twists with bliss.
You nod frantically, your eyes squeezing shut again as the sensations begin to crowd you in the best way possible. You feel it throbbing, reverberating between your thighs, threatening to crash over you with every thrust of his fingers, every swipe of his thumb. It’s not perfect, but what he lacks in skill, he makes up for with pure determination.
“Don’t stop, don’t stop, Matty. Keep doing it just like that,” you beg, chest heaving.
“Fuck…” he mutters, grinding himself against your leg a little more heedlessly as he does just that, making sure not to let his eagerness get the best of him.
You reach down to grip Matty’s wrist in warning as the tension inside you crescendos, knowing you’re only moments away from tipping over that familiar edge that you’ve only ever known in the privacy of your own room. Your head lolls back against the pillows as the rocking of your hips becomes more frantic.
“Please… please…” he whispers, his gaze intense, “Please, I n-need you to…”
“Matty, I-” you pant, your eyes rolling back before your orgasm crashes over you in a wave of release.
Your mouth parts with a silent cry as your body tenses, back arching off of his bed as you feel your walls spasming around his fingers. Your nails are digging into his wrist as you begin to pant with breathy whines, riding out your orgasm against his eager hand. Pure satisfaction washes over your body as your lovely boyfriend watches in complete and total awe, continuing to aid you through your climax, wanting you to feel every drop of pleasure he could possibly offer you.
Matty whimpers as he watches you fall apart for him, his free hand snaking down to the front of his jeans to grasp himself for any kind of relief, his erection aching so badly that it’s starting to hurt. He’s almost lightheaded as he watches you thrash, thinking to himself that this might be the most beautiful that he’s ever seen you, which is a tough battle to win considering that he thinks you look beautiful all the damn time. But this? You at your rawest, at your most vulnerable? Yeah, he’s going to need a minute to recover because there’s an actual angel in his bed with him.
You grit your teeth as the sensitivity starts to overwhelm you, pulling Matty’s hand out from between your thighs with a whimper before going limp against the pillows. You can’t help but smile, chest heaving and skin glowing with sweat while Matty stares down at his fingers in disbelief at the glinting arousal coating them. Without thinking, he brings them to his mouth, sucking and lapping up the sweetness to savor the taste of your pleasure. The sight makes you blush to your very roots.
“That was… that was so fucking hot, oh god, when can we do that again?” he mumbles around his fingers.
After releasing his digits with a wet pop, he scrambles to sit up and get out of his jeans, unable to take it any longer. Matty sighs with relief as he starts to wiggle out of his jeans, the fabric feeling so tight and constricting at his crotch that he thought the zipper might pop off. You watch, amused as he grunts and struggles to get out of his skinny jeans that are likely a size too small.
The moment they’re off, he’s flinging them across the room and crashing his lips to yours in a messy, blissful tangle of teeth and tongues. Matty licks into your mouth with heated desperation, not even letting you get a word in as you come down from your high.
“I want to fuck you so bad, I-I think about it all the time,” he mumbles against your lips, cupping your face with trembling hands, “please, please can I be inside you?”
Your mind is still spinning as you quickly nod, barely recovered but still ready for more, for all of him. Your fingers reach for your locket, toying with it, feeling the engraved swirls etched beneath your fingertips.
“Do you have a…?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah, yeah. Hold on.”
Matty moves faster than he ever has in his whole life as he gets up and rummages around in his closet for the box of condoms he’d stashed away. He’d bought them earlier that week at the corner store while his mates snickered behind him (“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. I don’t see you wankers getting any!”, he’d sneered, sticking out his tongue petulantly). He plops down onto the bed next to you while ripping open the rather large box, your eyes widening as you catch the number “50” printed on the side of it.
“Christ! Why do you have so many?” you gape, doing a double take as you make sure you’ve read it correctly.
Matty shrugs, pulling out a comically long string of silver packets from the box before setting it aside, eyeing them as they glint under the low lighting. It looks like a goddamn party streamer. “What? Gotta be safe, yeah?”
“You’re not going to break 49 condoms.”
“I dunno, babe! Maybe I’m a fuckin’ animal and we’ll go 50 rounds, no breaks.”
You roll your eyes with a snort, giving his shoulder a playful shove as he grins at you toothily.
“You’re so ridiculous, oh my god.”
“Nah, but really, they won’t go to waste. I promise you that, babe,” he smirks, waggling his eyebrows as he waves the string of condoms in front of your face teasingly.
He’s an idiot. However, the idea of using up all of those condoms together makes you a little dizzy, heat sparking through your veins at the thought. You reach out and snatch the packets from him, laying the strand across your chest like a ribbon while you tear one off. You stare up into his eyes, blinking at him prettily as you place the wrapper in your teeth, holding it there with a flair of sensuality. This feeling, the one that makes you feel like you’re desirable, sexual, is one you could damn well get used to.
Matty’s mouth waters, almost drooling at the sight of what must be every teenage boy’s most depraved daydream: a vixen sent to devour him whole. He wants to burn the sight into his memory forever, his stomach twisting in a tangle of arousal as your lips curl seductively around the foil. He can already envision how this memory will play inside his mind on a loop when he’s alone in his bed.
“You’re going to kill me,” he accuses, shakily taking the wrapper from between your teeth.
You just smile, watching as he fumbles with the foil for a moment before tearing it open, sitting back on his heels as he slides his thumbs under the waistband of his boxers. You allow your gaze to skim down the light spattering of dark hair from his navel to the bulge in his underwear, licking your lips as you eye the sizeable pool of precum that’s soaked into the fabric. Matty glances away, awkwardly clearing his throat as he begins to ease the elastic down his slim hips, kicking his boxers off once they reach his ankles.
Your heartbeat feels as though it’s hammering in your ears as you take in the sight of him, a rush of heat making your hips squirm involuntarily. He’s beautiful and he doesn’t even know it. You want to kiss and bite every inch of his scrawny body. You want to taste his pale skin. You want to feel him, real and warm under your fingertips as they dig into him. But more than anything, you need him inside you.
Matty lets out a breathy groan as he strokes himself slowly, gathering the precum bubbling at his tip before dragging it downwards with a shudder. He slowly rolls the condom down onto himself, feeling over the latex to make sure it’s secure before glancing up at you, his cheeks a shade of bright pink as he notices your intense stare.
Your boyfriend settles himself between your legs, gingerly spreading them so he fits above you, his arms on either side of your head, his Mortal Kombat tattoo inches from your face. You reach upwards with an uneven exhale, placing your hands on his chest which rises and falls with shallow breaths. His cock brushes against your inner thigh. Matty looks like he might combust.
“You’re sure about this?” he whispers, his breath bated.
Your heart is pounding in your chest, anticipation wrapping her hands around your throat. You want him more than anything.
“I’m sure… please, Matty,” you say softly, rubbing your thumbs over his collarbones.
“If it hurts or you wanna stop, you tell me. I-I don’t give a fuck if I’m literally about to cum, you just shout at me or something, alright?” he rambles, using one of his hands framing your face to gently tuck your hair behind your ear.
“Okay,” you whisper, managing a slightly nervous smile.
Matty swallows hard, bringing one hand down to his length, guiding it forward till his tip meets your slicked center. You both shiver as he begins to run himself back and forth against you, the realization that you’re about to lose your virginity seeming to hit you both all at once. He shoots you a jittery look, searching your eyes for any sense of regret or discomfort. When he finds none, he begins to carefully line himself up with you, firmly gripping himself to avoid the embarrassment of missing.
“I’m going to… yeah,” he mumbles. The pinnacle of eloquence.
Your breath catches in your throat as he begins to push his hips forward, feeling your velvety walls stretch to accommodate him. Matty’s face screws up as he feels your warmth enveloping him bit by bit, panting softly as he experiences an overwhelming tightness around his cock that his own hand could never offer. He makes a choked noise, internally reminding himself that he needs to last long and do a good job for you, to not cum the second he’s inside.
“F-fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-” he mutters, his teeth gritting as he tries not to completely lose his goddamn mind.
You hiss at the intrusion as he slowly inches inside you, the unfamiliar feeling being somewhat like getting split open. Almost involuntarily, you reach for his hand, intertwining your fingers with a comforting squeeze. Matty pauses, his eyes blinking open, flashing with affection as he squeezes your hand back, finding solace in the familiarity and simplicity of your touch. You nod at him softly, running your thumb over his knuckles as you breathe through this initial, slight discomfort. His eyes are lidded as he watches your expression closely, wanting to kiss away the bit of tension on your features.
“You’re so tight… so fucking– oh fuck,” he babbles, brows knitting together as he continues sliding inside of you, trembling.
He can’t seem to stop rambling and cursing, squeezing your hand a little tighter before finally reaching his hilt, filling you entirely as your hips meet. Matty’s head dips forward with a deep groan, feeling himself pulse inside you. He didn’t immediately cum the moment he was fully inside you, which he considered to be a win at the moment considering how fucking incredible this feels.
“Feels so fucking good… oh my god- oh my god, you feel so good…” he rambles breathlessly, his hand wrapped tightly around yours.
You breathe deeply, the stretch creating a low, simmering feeling in your walls as you try to fully relax and adjust. Matty gazes down at you adoringly, panting as he clenches every muscle in his body to try and stave off his already impending orgasm. The urge to move and thrust and fuck is urgent, but he forces himself to stay still, needing to make sure you’re comfortable.
“Baby, are you okay?” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss your forehead, quivering from his head to his toes, “I’ve got you, I’ve got you.”
“I’m good, love. Are you okay?” you giggle, raising your eyebrows at him.
“I’m… I’m– yeah. Best. Best ever. You feel amazing, you’re amazing,” he grins, laughing breathlessly.
Matty feels like he’s drunk, intoxicated by everything about you. The way you look, the way you feel. Oh god. He’s never felt so good in his life. You’re just as bad, smiling up at him like he’s given you not only the moon but also all of the stars. Joined at the hips, intertwined at the soul.
“You can move,” you whisper, the tinge of burning fading into something warm, something to thirst for.
He nods above you, squeezing your hand like making a promise: I’ll take care of you. He begins to slowly, almost delicately roll his hips against you, the movement making you gasp for breath, gripping his shoulder tighter. Matty’s lashes flutter as he lets out a whimper, staring down at you with tenderness as he sets a gentle rhythm, allowing the both of you to ease into the deep intimacy. It’s almost an out-of-body experience for Matty, watching you below him, his hazy vision creating a sort of aura around you.
“You’re… you’re doing so good. You look so pretty. Made for me,” he gasps, barely stringing together coherent sentences between rocks of his hips.
Matty’s thrusts are shallow despite how restless he’s growing, practically overheating above you. He continues to murmur about how good and tight you feel, the praise spilling from his lips without much thought, simply pouring from his lungs as he gets lost in the overpowering feeling of you.
“Ohh, fuck,” you murmur, a spike of heat rushing straight to your cunt, clenching around him as your nails rake down his back.
Matty’s hips stutter as the breath is stolen from his lungs, almost making a wheezing sound at the back of his throat. His skin erupts with goosebumps under your touch, your nails leaving a pleasurable sting in their wake. He gathers himself enough to speak. “Holy shit. C-can you do that again?” he stammers, feeling like every nerve of his body is firing at once.
A hazy smile spreads across your lips as you clench around him again, feeling him twitch within your taut walls. Matty doesn’t just moan, he whines at the feeling, involuntarily bucking into you with more force, driving his cock deeper inside you. You pant at the entirely new feeling, your body lighting up with crackling sparks. Suddenly, the gingerly pace he’d set wasn’t nearly enough as liquid need fizzles in your bones.
“Matty… more,” you moan, your eyes shining.
He doesn’t need to be told twice. His eyes nearly roll back at every noise he pulls from you, the sounds only spurning him on further, driving his body forward into yours harder, faster. His head drops forward to your neck, burying his face there as he pants raggedly against your skin.
What had started out as gentle, loving gazes and polite rolls of hips has quickly become somewhat of a frenzy. The two of you hold each other close as you buck and rock and sweat, needing to help each other see stars to the sound of the bed's creeks. Matty shakes like a leaf as you wrap your legs around his pretty waist, drawing him in deeper. Before you can process it, he’s snaking his hand down between your glowing bodies to hastily swipe at your clit with his fingertips. You cry out as the pleasure courses through you, building even faster than before, rendering your brain fuzzy and wonderfully useless as you rock to meet his pistoning hips. The sound of skin on skin makes your face burn.
“Please, please, love. I-I need– need to-” he babbles pathetically, desperation radiating off of him, “I-I’m not gonna last,” he shudders, a lilt of panic in his tone.
“It’s okay,” you pant, digging your nails into his back to make him groan, “Let it feel good, baby.”
Matty whines pitifully, his hips losing their rhythm entirely as he begins to thrust as quickly and frantically as he can, continuing to rub at your oversensitive bundle of nerves, setting a growing fire beneath your skin. “Y-yeah feels so good. So good,” he nods.
“Close, Matty,” you gasp, your back arching off of the plaid sheets as the flames curl and lick inside you.
“Fuck, I’m gonna– gonna–”
Matty can’t even finish his sentence, biting down on your shoulder as his body goes completely stiff for a moment, his hand clutching at yours even tighter before he shudders with his release, spilling into the condom. You follow closely on his heels into the depths of pleasure, trembling as your eyes roll back in your head, your walls spasming around Matty as he pulses inside of you. His head stays buried in the crook of your neck as he moans wantonly against your skin, his hips sporadically jerking against you as you both get lost in pleasure so great, you’re not sure how you ever went without it.
The only sound that can be heard in Matty’s bedroom is heavy breathing. He stays collapsed on top of you, your legs dangling lazily over his hips as you hold each other, fingers still interlocked. Neither of you has said a word yet as you simply bask in the afterglow.
Afterglow. You realize why it’s called that now. It feels like you’re shining from the inside out and you swear you can see the same light within him as you run your fingers through his damp hair. And in this moment, you and your boy are untouchable, nothing can reach you when he’s holding you this way.
“I love you…”
The words are faint, they ring hazily through your head, and for a moment you’re not sure if they were imagined. But he says it again, quietly, delicately, to be absorbed.
“I love you.”
Your chest swells with warmth, it spreads from your heart to your fingertips and beyond. You swallow the lump in your throat, a grin spreading across your face so wide you think you might crack.
“I love you too, Matty.”
Slowly, he lifts his head from where it rests, his eyes misty as he meets your gaze. He sniffles, rubbing his thumb against your hand with sweetness, the both of you acutely aware of how you’re still intertwined.
“Oh god,” he mumbles, embarrassed as he rubs at his eyes.
You coo at him, tucking some of his hair behind his ear before leaning in to tenderly peck his lips. You simply gaze into each other’s eyes, realizing how badly you want this to last. To beat the odds of young lovers. To scream in the face of getting older, of growing apart. But right now, this is enough.
“I love you so much,” he whispers again, smiling like he’s trying out the words on his tongue, giddy at the way it feels.
tags: matty healy x female!reader, dlid era, fluff, teenage romance, one shot, young romance, awkard matty healy, young matty healy
words: 1,6k
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Matty closes the door of his bedroom once both of you were inside, muffling the voice of his mother still shouting out to the two of you at the end of the stairs. Denise, always so sweet, and who has known you for a bit of a while now, since you've been over to Matty's house before, reminding you guys that if you needed anything she was there.
Of course she would want to offer some cookies or a cup of tea to her girlfriend's son, especially after you have been at school all day, but Matty just dismissed it, embarrassedly by his mum's attempt, worried it would be awkward for you, which, it wasn't, really, you liked Denise's effort to try and make you feel as comfortable as possible.
Today Matty didn’t have band practice after school, which it was a miracle, so you guys could just enjoy a bit of time together.
You sat at the edge of his bed, letting a small sigh escape your lips. You looked outside, watching as the sun began to set, the golden rays pouring through the window, reflecting on his bedroom.
You watch as Matty grabbed something from his drawer, walking over the bed after and sitting next to you, you see a box of cigarettes in one hand, while holding a lighter in another, he offers you a cigarette.
You sigh dramatically, as you drop your body over the mattress, smelling your boyfriend's perfume at the same moment and feeling the texture of his navy sheets.
"I've told you to stop smoking.” You said to him, murmuring. It was indeed a bad habit, but it was better than weed anyways, you even smoked occasionally with him, but very rarely.
"Not mad at me, are ya, love?" Matty asks as he lets his body drop next to you in the bed, both of you now face to face.
You sighed softly, as you brought your hand to his face, running your fingers slowly and tenderly through his cheek, a small caress.
Matty blushes with the touch, as he always does.
Through the past months that you have been dating, you were the only person in this world ever who could get him this enamored.
“I'm never mad at you baby, you know that.” You whispered to him.
Matty looked at you, staring blatantly into your eyes, although he didn't say anything, he brought his face closer, and rubbed his nose on yours.
You did the same, copying his movements, as you two touched the tips of your noses together, as you always did, it was a sweet love demonstration that you two had, it had become a habit.
You gave him another look, before pressing your lips against his, it was just a small peck, but he placed his hand on your cheek, and his other on your waist, bringing you closer. Your mouths crashed, and you could feel him smile against your mouth.
Matty's fingers knot into your hair, bringing your face closer to him, taking any chance to get more nearness to you. Your chest presses against his, while your hands part to his messy hair, your fingers running through his soft curls, you absolutely loved his hair like this, always encouraging him to let it grow more.
When your lips parted a bit, letting a small sound escape, his tongue swept into your mouth, you felt his tongue against yours, the kiss becoming more rough, and linguistic, you knew that Matty was letting himself get a bit away.
You pulled slightly away, a bit out of breath, he pressed his head on yours, also gasping for air, feeling flushed.
“Kay?” Matty asked, his voice a bit whiskey and your body trembled slightly to the sound of his raspy tone.
“Yeah.” You muttered, a small smile placed on your lips, while you closed your eyes, just sucking in the moment.
Matty, although, was quick enough to part to your neck. You felt his lips against your collar, just pressing softly at first, as he started to distribute small kisses on your skin.
He knew exactly your sensitive spots, and how to make you sighted and let you weak for him.
You two had never done anything more than making out, it was still a big step, and today wasn't definitely the day, especially with his mum downstairs.
“God—Matty.” You gasped, as he kissed the spot behind your ear, the exact response he wanted from you.
He kisses your throat sweetly one last time, before turning his face to you again.
“Hi.” Matty said with a cheeky smile forming on his lips.
“Hi.” You said with a soft, lovely laugh that he loved, while you placed your arms around his neck, hugging him.
He places his arms around your waist, bringing you closer to him, you rest your head on his chest, feeling the scent of his cologne and the smell of cigarettes, you close your eyes, listening to his heartbeat.
You loved these sweet moments, with Matty you've always felt entirely safe and so loved.
It was so unexpected that both of you weren't really prepared, but in the next second his bedroom door opened without a warning, making you two panic a bit, even if you were just cuddling.
Denise was standing on the doorway, Matty got up in a rush, giving her a furious and annoyed look.
“Mum—Fuckin' hell, you could've knock!” He shouted to her. You sat awkwardly on the edge of his bed.
“Matthew Timothy Healy! No swearing on this house!” Denise argued back.
It was embarrassing enough to have your parents shouting at you in front of your girlfriend. That would probably never happen to you since your parents were always working.
“A'ight, I'm sorry.” He said with a murmur, as he let his body fall on the bed again.
“Right then, you two lovebirds, just letting you know I’ll go and pick your brother up from school, alright?" Denise said, which made you two blush.
"Make yourself comfortable, alright love? Matty, take care of her and don't go doing anything stupid." His mum said, making him groan and bring his hands to his face.
You just gave her a small smile, nodding, while you mouth a tiny thank you, his mother left, shutting the door behind her. Yeah, that was definitely embarrassing.
You loved Denise, you really did, you were naturally shy, but she always tries to make you feel so welcome and comfortable.
You watched as your boyfriend got up, now standing in front of you.
He gave you his hand, offering you to take her, you blatantly accepted it, as you got up, standing now in front of him.
Matty was taller than you, you weren't that tall, 5'3 in a good day, so he easily towered you.
“Sorry babe. You know how my mum can be a bit much sometimes." He said, letting his chin rest on top of your head.
You hugged his waist, there wasn't one single moment that you thought bad of his mom, she was always so lovely to you.
“Please don't worry, you know I love her.” You whispered, kissing his cheek, before resting your head on his chest.
He sighted, bringing his hand to caress your soft hair.
"What if you just stayed tonight, yeah? I'll find you some jammies, we'll stick a film on, fall asleep together..." He said to you, and you blushed.
“You know we have school tomorrow..” You told him, and indeed it was true. Unless you pass through your house the next morning to grab your books… Your parents probably wouldn't mind, they were working until late anyway.
"C'mon, love, just text your mum, yeah? I'm proper sure she'll let you stay the night.” He mumbled to you.
“Matty—” You begin to say, but you looked at his face and saw his sweet puppy eyes, you just really couldn't resist it.
“Alright silly, I will stay.” You finally said to him, seeing the immediate joy in his semblance.
He began to kiss your cheek, then your jaw, your forehead, and finally your lips, as both of your mouths crashed into that same rhythm.
You placed a hand on his cheek, tenderly caressing it, as he placed his arms around your waist, lifting you up, and letting you fall on the bed behind you, he fell on top of you, and you gasped, letting a laugh escape.
“Matty!” You shouted to him, while laughing.
He cheekily smiled, his eyes brightening, as he laid on top of you, his arms resting on both sides of your head.
You pressed your lips against his, but just placing a small peck, and another, and another… Kissing repeatedly his cheeks, jaw, forehead, nose… he blushed like a little boy.
God, you two were so madly in love it was absolutely adorable and disgusting.
“God, I love you so much baby.” He told, as he let his forehead rest on your chest.
You go quiet and silently for a couple seconds, processing what he had just told you. It was the first time one of you said “I love you”. It could seem stupid, but this was a new thing.
He seemed to notice your sudden silence, because he lifted his head, a bit concerned he had said the wrong thing.
“I— Did I say somethin' wrong? I'm sorry baby— I didn't mean to—” Matty said, stumbling into his words, but you cutted him with a kiss.
Your lips crashed unexpectedly on his, which he didn't have quite the time to respond to.
“You silly boy.” You began to say, placing both of your hands on his face. “Don't you dare apologize, you didn't say anything wrong, okay?” You told him, which he answered by just nodding his head slightly, blinking his eyes.
“I love you too, so much, alright?” “Don't you dare to apologize to me Matty Healy.” You muttered, while a wide smile appeared on his face.
He kissed you again, biting slightly your lip.
“I love you and I forever will.” He said, dramatically, which made you laugh.
“You can say that at our wedding, yeah?” You told him jokingly.
But he was being quite serious, he was going to marry you, he was sure of that.
(Not that much of a big imagine, I’m still practicing tho!! 😓 xx)
Summary: Matty finds himself alone at a house party he wasn't actually invited to, missing his boyfriend and becoming increasingly annoyed by his environment.
CW: Drinking. Smoking. Swearing. The f slur once. Bottom Matty if you squint. Abrupt ending. Way too poorly written references to autism for an autistic author.
Word Count: 1,800
It was loud. Fuck it was loud. Why did they need to have the music up so god damn loud? Matty's eyebrows knitted together as he shut his eyes, leaned back against the nearest wall and chugged the last bit of his beer. He could feel the pressure in his body rising. He would call it a tension headache because what Oliver would call it made him unnecessarily uneasy. Nothing wrong with what Oliver ever so kindly suggested, but Matty had been through a year of self discovery and didn't feel like doing that again with the added stress of seeing a shrink. Though deep down he knew his boyfriend had some footing in his concern.
Matty pushed off the wall, pushing through the crowd of inebriated and sweaty teenagers to replace his drink in the kitchen. As he does his eyes scan over the living room of some guy in his class, he can't remember who at this point. George got the invite and everyone knew that the four were a packaged deal. He couldn't spot his friends, having them pulled away one by one with the promise of drinks and girls. Same thing happened to him. A mate hooking his arm and telling him about his mates', friends' sister who's visiting from Manchester who has an eye for good looking lads. Matty tried his best to shrug him off, mumbling something about 'not feeling too hot' before slipping away back into the sea of people.
His friends, before they fucked off, had noticed his off mood. They just assumed he was pissed off because Oliver couldn't be here. Which he was. But it was also loud. It was hot. He had been left alone. And he was becoming increasingly more aware that the host had been one of the guys to bully Oliver when he first came out.
Matty was about ten seconds away from walking home without even saying goodbye to his friends when he spotted a familiar lanky brunette. James? What was he doing here? Oliver's crew never came to these types of parties. They kept to themselves, or at most the cottage on the edge of town with the other 'freaks' (Oliver's words not Matty's).
Matty's legs moved before his brain registered the action. His hand reaching out to grab at James' shoulder more forcefully that he usually would. James jumps a little, head snapping to find the owner of the hand that touched him.
For a tall guy James was on the shy, sensitive and awkward side. It took a while for him to warm up to people and be comfortable enough with them to perform basic social interactions well. Even now he still didn't fully relax at the sight of Matty even if he and Oliver had been official boyfriends' since new years. Not that anyone besides their individual friend groups knew that.
"The fuck are you doing here?" Matty's words came out harsh and too loud in his effort to speak above the music that he swore just kept getting louder.
"uhh.." James tenses, eyes flicking between Matty and the girl next to him.
Oh.
In Matty's whatever the fuck mood he hadn't noticed the girl James was clearly trying to flirt with. Matty drops his arm and grumbles out an apology as he feels his stomach twist with disappointment. He tries to recover, mumbling a "leave you to it" as he tries to smoothly take a sip from the bottle in his hands.
As he lowers the bottle he catches as James eyes dart over Matty's shoulder behind his glasses. He turns his head, trying to figure out what James was looking at. All he sees is teenagers in various states of drunkenness and the sliding door to the backyard. He squints trying to find anything of interest this guy could be looking at or if James was just nervously avoiding eye contac- oh shit the backdoor.
Matty almost facepalms but his feet are moving before he could even think. He could hardly register some dude calling him a cunt as he pushes through a few people to get to the door, only coming back into his body as he feels the rush of cold fresh air hit his face, definitely informing him of how tipsy he's started to become. He surveys the backyard, stomach once again dropping when he doesn't find who he was looking for. It was dumb to get his hopes up. Oliver hated these parties. He hated the people. The atmosphere. Not being able to talk to Matty the way he wanted t-.
"God, so emo" Matty spun around so fast he nearly hurt his neck and spilled his drink at the same time.
There he was. Leaned against the brick wall of the house, cigarette lowly burning between the fingers of his right hand. Matty took a moment, taking in his boyfriend. The blue streaks in his hair that'll inevitably cause an after school detention this coming week. The faded Spider-Man shirt covered by a flannel, Matty's flannel he must have left in the other boys' room the last time they hung out. The shitty old jeans with the right knee blown out that he refuses to throw out. He was a sight, even as he snicked at Matty's erratic behaviour.
Oliver's eyes soften, one hand lifting up to gesture the other boy closer. "Good to see you-" He pauses, eyes glancing at the girl face first in a nearby garden bed and her friend holding her hair back. They were far, far enough away it should be fine, but better safe than sorry. "-mate".
Matty's stomach twists again, but this time for a different reason. He hated this. Hated hiding. God, he really took for granted how lucky he was to have the freedom he had with his ex-girlfriends. But he pushed it off, like always. Instead he drew closer, eyes pointedly flickering down to Oliver's shirt then back up to meet his eyes, raising one eyebrow.
Oliver rolled his eyes but became a little bashful. 'Oh har har. Yes I'm wearing a nerd shirt. Didn't expect to be going out tonight. Would've dressed up if I knew I was running into you" His words sounded joking, the wink he shot Matty as he took his place against the wall next to him was definitely joking, but both boys knew the sentiment was genuine. Oliver raised his right arm slightly. "Fag?"
Matty raised a brow
"You know what I mean, dipshit. Wanna bum my cig?" Oliver passed the cigarette over before Matty could even reply.
Matty took it, taking a quick drag and passing it back, hand lingering a little too long as a silent 'thanks'. He exhales the smoke away from Oliver. The two watch the smoke curl up into the darkness. "Why'd you come?" Matty asked, fulling leaning his weight against the wall behind them, continuing to watch the smoke dissipate.
"What do you mean?" Oliver looked over to Matty briefly before taking a drag of the cigarette.
"You said you didn't expect to be out tonight. Why'd you come?"
Oliver exhales. "James has been chatting up some girl. She invited him" He passes the cigarette back over to Matty.
Matty reaches over to grab it, but pauses, a questioning, and almost amused, look coming over his face. "So you're third wheeling?"
"Does it look like I'm third wheeling? Just making sure everything's okay from afar."
"Helicopter parent." Matty takes the cigarette and takes a quick drag, exhaling and passing it back before continuing speaking again. "James is capable of hanging out with some girl he fancies at a party… kinda capable…"
"Not James I'm worried about." Oliver drops the cigarette, toeing it out with his converse.
"You worry way to much" Matty mutters into his beer bottle before taking a sip. Oliver silently watches for a second and only a second.
"How much have you had to drink?"
"Case and point"
"Shut up, I'm allowed to be worried about how drunk my boyfriend could be"
The pairs eyes snap to meet each other as the words slip from Oliver's mouth. They cautiously look around the yard before relaxing. It was just them now. The girls from before must have stumbled inside without the two boys noticing.
"I'm taking you home" There was no room for argument in Oliver's voice but by god was Matty going to try.
"I'm not even that drunk"
"Says every drunk person ever. Matty come on."
"Noooo" Yeah… maybe he was a little more drunk than he originally thought.
"Why do you even want to stay? You were in a mood before"
Matty's face screws up in offence. "Wasn't in a mood"
"I'm not an idiot, sweetheart."
"You just called me sweetheart. The big cool and tough punk wearing a Spider-Man shirt called me sweetheart." Yup, definitely drunk. Deciding to give up on any semblance of sobriety, Matty transferred his weight onto Oliver.
Oliver stumbled a little, not expecting the sudden weight of his boyfriend. He quickly recovered. It's not like Matty weighed much. "Don't try to distract me by trying to egg me into an argument over my clothes. You're drunk and in a mood. I'm taking you home." With his weight now fully on him, Oliver decides to tug Matty through the side path to the front of the house from the backyard. Though Oliver can't help but keep lookout just in case anyone can see the two.
Matty doesn't put up much of a fight, just continues to grumble. "Not in a mood. It was just loud. And hot. And the lads ditched me. And I missed you."
"Aw, baby" Oliver tries to be condescending for the bit, but the concern bleeds through his words, rending any attempt at joking useless. "Missed you too. Now stand up properly or it'll take us forever to get you home"
Matty reluctantly stood up on his own.
"Good boy." Oliver doesn't miss the way Matty's cheeks turn a dark pink and he swallows. "You wanna quickly go say bye to the boys?"
Matty shook his head. "No. Probably too busy with some birds anyway"
"Alright. I'll text them later to say you made it home safe"
Matty hummed, trailing along beside Oliver. "Are y'staying over?" He mumbled. The tension of the too loud and the too hot falling away to reveal an exhaustion within him.
"I'll stay over. As long as your parents are fine with it still"
"For a punk you care a lot about what my parents think."
Oliver couldn't help the roll of his eyes. "Shut up… Your parents are nice to me."
"Yeah, because they like you"
Oliver can't help revel in the warm feeling that blooms in his chest at the thought. "M'glad."
Pairing: DriveLikeIDo!Matty Healy x Transmasculine!oc
Summary: While taking a break from his parent's New Year's Eve party, Matty finds himself in a tree in his backyard. While he tries not to think much about the oncoming year, he's forced to recon with another set of thoughts. His confusing, and unlabelled, relationship with Oliver, and the new feelings that come with it.
CW: Brief alludes to homophobia and transphobia, swearing, mentions of nicotine addiction, kissing, mention of handjob, brief allude to difficult home life, Both Matty and Oliver are around 17, shit writing 🤷
A/N: Heyyyyyy, I've finally written something. This isn't the intended first fic from this au, but it was the first one I've got finished so the oc (Oliver Miller) might not be fully introduced like I'd hoped. I'll get to the first actual fic at some point. I also need to point out the tittle is 100% a James Marriott reverence, Car lights is their song. Hope you enjoy and I encourage any feedback as both comments and in asks. I am very much looking to learn from others lol.
Word Count: 2,949
The air had a bitter chill as the bark scratched across Matty's palms. A cloud is crafted from his breath, a product of the cold as he pulls himself up on a branch. The sound of the breeze mingles with the faint sounds of celebration coming from his house. His parents and their showbiz friends. They'd asked Matty if he wanted to invite the boys, but they'd all had plans with family leaving Matty to where he was now, seeking refuge from drunk adults in the strong branches of the tree by his house.
It was late, his brother already tucked up in bed. Though Matty wondered if he should've stayed inside for midnight, just in case the fireworks spooked Louis in his sleep. But a cheer from inside reminds Matty that he just needs a minute to himself. A minute or two away from the claustrophobic feeling in his living room. Suppose he could hide away in his room but the commotion would still feel a little too suffocating.
The urge to reach into his jacket for the packet of smokes he wasn't meant to have claws up his throat as he crosses his arms to protect from the biting winter air. He couldn't walk back into the house smelling of smoke, not that anyone would be sober enough to care. But Matty wasn't overly keen on the idea of risking being chewed out by his mother in front of all their friends.
Instead he pulled out his phone, flipping through contacts, trying to find someone to talk to to distract from the cravings and the cold and the noise and the impending existential crisis that came with being a teenager on new years eve.
He already knew the boys were busy, so they were out of the question and he couldn't be bothered making small talk to the people he was sorta friends with through school. Then he landed on Oliver. He was probably free, unless he was out getting drunk with his mates to bring in the new year. Matty's thumb hovers over the call button but he hesitates as his chest tightens.
Calling him would be weird right?
They were friends, well… they were whatever the hell they were. At school they shared the passing conversation during music. Just classmates. But come after school they make ease of slipping through bedroom windows and sneaking out to the more forest-y area on the outskirts of town. They've never dared to even mutter a mention of labelling things. But Matty would be lying to himself if he said not knowing where they stood wasn't driving him crazy. He longed to know if he meant more to Oliver than a few stoned kisses and a handjob every other day.
He needed to be.
But Matty also knew that if that was the truth their relationship wouldn't be able to be like their peers. No one but a few could know. Could never go to one of those dumb school dances together.
With a sigh Matty tucked his phone back into his pocket, making his decision to sit outside by himself. So just leaned his head against the trunk of the tree and closed his eyes for a bit.
Matty didn't know when he fell asleep, or how long he was out for, or even how he hadn't fallen out of the tree in his slumber, but given his now stiff neck as his eyes flickered open it had been a hot minute. Then he felt something hit the back of his head. The item didn't hurt. It just tangled in his hair for a moment before falling back down to the ground.
Matty turned his head to investigate, groggy eyes searching in the dark and landing on Oliver, draped in a coat with his arm cocked back ready to launch the stick in his head. Matty blinked and Oliver's arm snapped back to his side. He cleared his throat, dropping the stick to the ground. "Hey."
"Hi"
"You'll catch a cold sleeping up there"
"What the fuck are you doing here?" The question slipped out before Matty could stop it. It wasn't malicious or said with anger, just raw confusion while his brain slowly woke up.
Oliver shrugged, kicking at a bit of snow. "Was in the neighbourhood. Bored. Thought I'd see what was going down at party central." His words were carefully said. The attempt of a joke sounding flat as his eyes focused on the snow on the ground. Matty knew he was bullshitting.
Matty turned back, a silent invitation for Oliver to join him in the tree which he took. Matty listened as the other boy drew closer. Silence had fallen over the two, the only thing to be heard was their breathing and the clink of the chain on Oliver's jeans.
"You sure this thing will hold?" Oliver muttered as they focused on getting to the branch Matty was perched upon.
Matty shrugged, turning his head to watch Oliver pull himself up and get settled next to him. They were now close, legs touching, their warmth on the cusp of being shared. Matty quietly took in Oliver. His hair was a slight mess, either from climbing, the wind, or not fixing it before leaving the house.
Moments pass with the two just sitting in silence. Both boys watching the stars twinkle in the sky. A level of awkward tension simmering beneath the silence masked by the wind animating the leaves left in the trees. "I thought you'd be in their partying." Oliver started, his words hesitantly quiet. "Invited the guys over, or at the very lest George."
Matty shakes his head, glancing over at the other boy only to see Oliver looking back at him, causing Matty to dart his attention back down to the ground below them."Nah… he's busy. locked into a family celebration. All of 'em are."
Oliver nods, taking a moment to think over their next words. Silence stretches again as he twists one of his rings around his finger before biting the bullet "You could've invited me"
Matty opens his mouth to respond but closes it again. It takes a considerable amount of effort to glance back at Oliver, only for his eyes to dart to the side, towards the light spilling from the backdoor of his house. And that tells Oliver enough.
"You haven't told them, haven't you?" Oliver's words were hardly above a whisper, like even alluding to the topic was forbidden. Like anything even remotely related to 'what they were' was a crime.
When Matty didn't respond, just shifting on the branch to look at the party through a window, Oliver's expression fell. Eyebrows furrowing in confusion and even a slight disappointment that he was just some secret, which he'd assumed at this point but it still stung. He tried to catch it, mask his own emotions so to protect Matty's. Oliver didn't want him to think he was disappointed or god forbid mad at him for the situation they found themselves in.
Oliver didn't know how to approach this subject. Their efforts with dodging relationship talk and the sensitivity that this topic brings making him feel like he was walking on eggshells. So when Oliver opened his mouth he chose his words carefully, and out came "How do you think they'd react?". Oliver's voice wavered at the top of the sentence like he hadn't fully committed to the question as it left his lips.
He watched has Matty's gaze flickered up to meet eyes before his gaze flickered back to his lap. Neither of the two boys had been any good at sincerity in general let alone while making eye contact.
Matty took his time to collect his thoughts into a carefully built out response. However, Oliver already knew the answer to their question. In the time the two had spent over the past few months they'd gotten to know each other. One learns a surprising amount about a person through sleep deprived conversations under moonlight and the haze of marijuana. Matty had spent countless of their encounters venting about his parents like any other teenager for Oliver to paint a hazy picture of what the two were like.
Matty's parents were different from the average, which, again, wasn't a surprise to Oliver. Practically everyone in their year knew Matty's parents were on the telly. That alone would constitute an atypical childhood. But as Matty peeled back the curtain more and more Oliver got a feel for what they were really like. One of the things Oliver came to realise was that Matty's parents were tolerable, which was a rare commodity within Oliver's own life.
Oliver had to stop himself from bursting out in tears of relief the night that Matty had told him offhandedly that his grandfather was a drag queen. That night had allowed Oliver to relax. He didn't have to look over his shoulder in fear of another set of judging eyes coming from adults who should know better. He was already tired dealing with the ones in his own home.
He knew that Matty's parents would be fine with whoever their son decided to date, even if it was somebody's self-made son.
Matty knew replying to the question directly would be redundant, because he saw how relaxed Oliver seemed at the thought of his parents knowing about his existence. He knew the question Oliver really wanted to ask was 'why haven't you told them yet?' but he was too polite to do so.
So Matty took a deep breath and let the words rattling around in his head slide out on the exhale. "I just don't want things to change."
The honesty in the confession made Oliver's eyebrows twitch up. Was he really acknowledging what was happening between them? "Oh. In what way?"
"In a everything will shift type of way." Matty sighs with an edge as he runs a hand through the mop of curls on his head, clearly not verbalising his thoughts in the way he wanted. His gaze returns to his house as his thoughts turn to his family. "I don't know… I don't want the air to shift. I don't want anyone, let alone my parents think of me differently of me because of who I fancy, y'know? And I know they won't be upset or any of that bollocks… but… I don't know". His voice trails off as he becomes more unsure of himself.
Oliver nods along, getting where the other boy is coming from. "I get it… but you can't exactly control peoples perception of you." Oliver cringes a little as he watches Matty sit on his words. "Shit that didn't come out as supportive as it sounded in my head"
A breath of unamused laughter leaves Matty's nose. "No… it really didn't."
"But, what I was trying to say was, you can't exactly change who you are, neither can you hide away forever, unless you want to drive yourself mad. Change is inevitable in life.." Oliver trails off, voice going quiet as they wage another internal debate over whether to say the next bit. "… and hey, if anything does go wrong, you've got me."
Matty nods, looking up at Oliver and return the smile. "Yeah, guess I do."
The boys sit on the tree branch for a few moments in silence. They listen to the breeze and the sound of enjoyment from both Matty's house and the faint sounds of his neighbours. The tree creeks and the leaves blow. An owl perched on a far off tree hoots into the night sky. All while Matty's gaze returns back on Oliver.
Oliver doesn't notice Matty staring, too busy focused on two birds turning in for the night in their nest. But if he was paying attention he would see that Matty's tired eyes would flicker over his face, taking in every mark and blemish. The slight hair on his upper lip that Matty knew he was oh so proud of. The day old eyeliner that didn't come off in the shower that he couldn't be bothered wiping off. The glint of sliver in his nose that caused a few too many arguments with his parents.
Matty could feel his shoulders drop and his muscles unclench from his high strung evening. The nicotine craving retreated back into the depth of his mind as his sole focus was on the boy beside him. He didn't care that their relationship was complicated, he found a sense of solace in his presence.
"I'm not like… ashamed of you or anything…" Matty blurted out into the air, caught in the softness of the moment.
Oliver tears his gaze from the nest to look over at Matty, silently shocked he'd even verbalised the elephant in the room. He nods nevertheless. "I know."
"I just want to make sure because I don't want to make you think I'm just like every other wanker you take shit from at school." A level of frustration was intertwined through Matty's words. Not at Oliver, never at Oliver, but at the mere thought of being like those pricks that pushed him around for just existing differently.
"Matty, I know. You're just taking your time, which is fine. This shit's like an annoyingly big thing… people care about who you want to fuck for some reason." Oliver said with a smirk growing on his face, trying his best to lighten the mood.
Matty returned the gesture with an amused huff. "You're too patient."
"Just giving you the level of patients I would want someone to give me if I was in your position…" Oliver shifts closer to Matty, words falling to a sincereness that has been very rare for the two regarding the topic of them.
There was a pause before Oliver picked up from where he trailed off, almost like he was debating whether to continue. But what the hell? Might as well see in the new year on a wave of honesty.
His words were tentative as he forced out the words dangerously close to suffocating him alive. "But when you tell your parents… would you mention me?"
Matty's eyebrows raised a little in shock. Did we want to be mentioned? Is this his way of finally asking what they were? "Uh. d-di-do you want to be mentioned?" He eventually stuttered out as his brain raced for an answer.
Oliver shook his head. Stupid. "No, no. Why the fuck would you mention me when coming out to your parents? I don't know why I even said that, forgot it, it's du-"
Matty decided it was his turn to be brave, cutting off the ever growing flustered mess beside him. "Ollie, love, breath. I probably will… stop mum from asking who I'm always going out to see."
"You don't mind if she thinks we're like… together?"
"Why would I? It's the truth, isn't it?"
Silence falls over the pair as Oliver fails to come up with a response. He doesn't feel like he's allowed to say yes, but at the same time he'd rather fall out of this tree than say no. So the two boys just stare at each other. Both noticing the flickering of eye lines to lips, back up to eyes.
"You really want that? Want an us? You know what would happen if people at school fou-" Matty couldn't stand hearing Oliver unravel over the stupid reality they were stuck in. For once something felt right for Matty and he wasn't about to through that away. So Matty leaned in, silencing Oliver's words with his lips in an effort to protect this perfectly constructed safety bubble the two sat in.
Oliver stalled, brain trying to catch up to reality before his body finally relaxed. Oliver allowed himself to be kissed, eyes fluttering closed and his body relaxing like a sigh before kissing back. Lips slotted together like puzzle pieces as the two try to get impossibly close on this tree branch. Oliver's hand comes up to cup Matty's face as Matty takes a fistful of the others jacket.
They've kissed before, in varying states of consciousnesses and context, but this time felt different. This time felt real. Matty could almost swear he heard fireworks.
Wait.
He focused back into his surroundings for a brief moment. That's when he heard the bang, and then another bang. And when his mind registered the third he couldn't help but let out a laugh against Oliver's lips.
It was midnight.
Oliver pulled back a little, just enough to rest his forehead against Matty's. Both their eyes flicker back open, meeting each other as the different colours begin to dance in the corner of their eyes. They dissolve into laughter, never once pulling away completely.
"This is so fucking cliche" Matty comments in jest as the two turn their head to watch the explosions of colour light up the inky black sky.
"Wouldn't want to begin the year any other way" Oliver muttered before turning back again to capture Matty's lips in yet another kiss. This one was shorter, with Oliver pulling away first with furrowed brows. "Your family.."
Matty raised a brow in confusion. "What about 'em?"
"They might see us up here if they come out for the fireworks."
"Let 'em see" Matty tugs Oliver back in by his jacket. Oliver lets out a yelp of surprise of being manhandled in a tree before melting into a giggle at how adolescent this all felt. Teeth clashed awkwardly as the two smiled and giggled their way through the kiss. The silent label of 'boyfriend's' hanging above their head as crackles of colour painted their background.
