Against all Odds (Victorian!Era-Matty Healy x OC) - pt. 4
Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3
Warnings: 18+ (Here: Fingering in front of a mirror), massive age-gap, Victorian age appropriate morals and societal issues (as imagined by me), absolutely historically incorrect! Matty is called Matthew most of the time.
A/N: I meant to post this last week but couldn’t bring myself to do so lol. If anyone is still reading this please let me know?
3.9k words
Matty always loved long summer nights ever since he could remember. When he was younger, he had been quite successful in convincing his father to let him stay up as long as there was somewhat still light outside and he used it to the fullest, strolling around the grounds that surrounded the little house where he grew up. He remembered just lying in the grass, watching the sun give space to a starry sky and thinking how wonderful it was to not having to go to sleep. While winter usually sucked basically all the energy out of him, summer was so much different in every department. He felt like even after a long day of cleaning the stables and taking each of the horses to the blacksmith to get them new shoes, there still was energy left within him. So, instead of lying in his bed, getting no sleep, tossing and turning all night long, he chose the outside. Sitting on the bench in front of the house, not far from where he usually tied the horses up.
The manor lay calm before him. He assumed that Lady Cavendish was the one who blew the candle out in the library about two hours ago. Victoria told him that her mum enjoyed late-night-readings a lot, using the peace and quiet to take some time for herself. Since then everything had been quiet and Matty didn’t take his attention away from the middle window on the first floor of the house. The only one with still a light shimmering inside of it – and the one where the daughter of the house slept, like he knew.
He made it a habit these past few weeks, coming here after finishing his last task of the day and his usually quite small dinner, sitting down on the bench and watching the window. Half an hour, sometimes, sometimes more. Until the light in the room on the first floor went out, usually whispering “Sleep tight, My Lady” into its direction before he left. But for now Matty just sat there, looking up to the house, wondering what she was up to. Reading, perhaps, wrapped up in the soft fabric of the sheets on her bed, gas lamp on the nightstand only dimly lit, getting lost in the stories she enjoyed so much. She told him about them, recently. About Dickens and Brontë about the love and the joy and the heartbreak they wrote about and how easing it was to get lost in these worlds between the pages and escape her own. So, was she lying in her bed, reading, fighting the tiredness away, hoping to finish the story before falling asleep? Or was she tossing and turning just like him, pissed because she couldn’t get to rest? Or was she doing something else entirely? The flickering light in her window didn’t tell him anything about it though and he decided that tonight wasn’t the night he was going to leave anything to the imagination.
He spotted the little shed that was conveniently placed right under her window weeks ago already. Thought long and hard about whether the prospect of breaking his neck was actually worth it. He didn’t think anymore now. He just pulled himself up on the shed, careful to not make too much noise. He assumed that the room on the same floor as Victoria’s was the master-bedroom and he’d have a really hard time explaining to the Duke and the Duchess themselves what the hell he was doing on top of a shed in the middle of the night. Level-headedly he got to a stand, high enough so that he could knock on her window. And he did. One time. Nothing happened. A second time, two small taps on the window quickly following each other. He couldn’t see her from where he stood but he thought he heard a noise from inside the room. A third try, three knocks against the glass, rhythmically, that was. And suddenly, there were movements. He could see something flicker in the farthest corner of the room he could see from where he stood and seconds later her silhouette appeared in front of him. The look on her face was half shocked, half irritated but the bright glimmer in her eyes told him she was everything but displeased at his visit that late at night. Mouthing his name in shocked surprise, she stared at him. Matty lowered his head as if to bow to her before he nodded over to the window’s knob, signaling her to let him in. She hurried to do so, lucky for his hands that had to hold on tight to the window-sill so much it started to hurt in order not for him to fall over backwards.
She didn’t help him climb in though, he had to do it himself and Matty was pretty sure he heard his knees creak in the process. When he made it in, Victoria just stood there staring at him as if she didn’t trust her eyes with what she actually saw.
“Thank you, My Lady”, Matty said, lowering his head again without thinking about it twice. He was kind of distracted anyway. He had barely been in the house, let alone in one of the bedrooms, so him setting foot in here was his first conscious contact with the home of the family he worked for the past few years.
The room was spacious, or at least Matty assumed that because it was quite hard to tell given how packed it was. Two chinsley-chairs backs to the wall on the right handside of the bed. A nightstand on its left, as he assumed equipped with a gaslamp, a bowl full of water and a pen. opposite of the bed stood a huge mirror, 1.5 times Matty’s own height, he assumed. Right next to it there was a set of drawers mahogany, he figured from the wood’s grain. The four-poster stood quite far away from the door, he noticed, red drapes framing it like a theatre’s stage, a stark contrast to the white bedsheets.
“What do you use all this space for?”, Matty asked while he crossed the room, counting his steps. Four huge ones was what it took to get him to the other side of it, so that he could pay her make-up table a closer look.
“What do you mean?”, Victoria asked, obviously confused. “I live here, obviously.”
Matty couldn’t help but scoff.
“I know that but how is what I wonder. What do you do with all this free space? I mean, you could literally have Marybeth live here and you two wouldn’t have to fight for your spaces.”
“You’re exaggerating”, she said while he curiously eyed one of the make-up-brushes that lay on the table.
“I’m absolutely not, My Lady”, he said, putting the brush back down and instead letting his hand glide carefully over the velvet of the chair’s seat. “This chamber is so spacious there’s easily room for more than one person in it.”
“Is this you inviting yourself to stay?”, she asked and when he turned around and looked at her now he could see that her head was slightly leaned left, cheekily. He turned away again, moving over to the set of drawers next, opening its compartments. Dresses, a lot of them, heavy, expensive, precious ones with golden strings and pearls woven into them, as well as causal ones, less opulent skirts but still made of silk or very well fabricated linen. Matty led parts of them run through his fingers, gotten used to the feeling of it all too well over the course of the past few weeks.
“Seriously though. What do you do in here all day with so much space at your free disposal?”
While asking the question, he wondered what he himself would do. He’d probably set up a proper writing desk somewhere instead of always keeping his papers stacked on his normal one where they were always at risk of getting stained by tea or his dinner. He’d have a better place to store his beloved guitar than the dark abyss beneath his bed. He’d maybe get himself a cat to share the space with.
“I read a lot. I read in my bed, I read on the chair, sometimes, if a book is really that good, I keep it opened next to the make-up-table so that I can keep on devouring it while I get ready for the day. Although, I confess, I can’t do that too much because then I will mess up my face and mother won’t like that very much.”
“As if there was any way you could ever mess up your face…”, Matty said almost automatically, closing the drawer just to open the next one, “You’ll always be amazingly beautiful and you know it.”
A small noise led to him believing she cleared her throat. The next drawer was full of socks. A lot of rosé ones, some in white. He knew what all of them looked like on her. How perfectly they hugged her thighs. And somewhat seeing them lying there in the drawer, neat, accurately placed one next to the other, made it feel way more intimate than he had ever felt seeing them on her.
“So…are you going to tell me?”, Victoria asked slightly suddenly and he wasn’t exactly sure if it was her question or the unexpected touch of her hand on his arm that made him jump.
“I can’t tell you anything if I have no clue what you want to know”, he responded.
“Why you came up here in the middle of the night? Knocking at my window. Entering my…”, her hand slowly moved further up his arm, “private chamber.”
She was absolutely right, of course. Everything about this situation felt more private, more intimate than most he had ever been in with her before – and he hadn’t even touched her yet.
“Well…”, he said slowly, “I couldn’t sleep. And while I couldn’t, I saw you didn’t either. Therefore I came to the conclusion that if none of us are sleeping, we might as well not sleep together.”
“What a brilliant conclusion.”
“It is, isn’t it?”
"Indisputably."
She leaned into him, her body practically melting into his. Matty noticed how natural her presence had become to him. The warmth of her body, the hint of a scent of lavender she put in her bathwater, the weight of her leaning against him. Almost as if he became used to it, somehow. Dangerous and sweet all at once.
“Glad you see it that way, My Lady.”
He turned around slowly and somehow looked at her properly for the first time, not being distracted by the opulence of her room anymore. The nightgown she wore shaped her differently than the dresses she was usually clothed in did. The fabric floated along her body, the cleavage giving a perfect view of her decolleté, yet a completely different one than the one he was used to from seeing her in her usual dresses. Something more innocent and more provocative at the same time. Her hair fell openly over her shoulders, a golden well of long, blonde strands he could hold himself barely back from touching. Alas he put both of his hands on her face.
“So now that I made it here, risking life and limb, will you reward me for it?”, he whispered, his face only inches away from hers. He could see her swallow hard, even despite the far from ideal lightening conditions.
Her voice was raspy when she asked: “What is the reward you desire, Matthew?”
Of course the bed was what came to his mind first. The most obvious thing, getting to lay her down in these soft and silky sheets, worshipping her the way she deserved it. But then again, what was the thrill in that?
“I want you to sit down for me, My Lady.”
She frowned as if she wasn’t sure she understood him correctly. So he took matters into his own hands. Literally. Closing his fingers around her right hand, he guided her over to another corner of the room. It was the one where the huge mirror stood. Putting both of his hands on her shoulders, he pushed her down gently until she sank down to the floor, him sitting down right behind her. He gathered her hair and placed it over her right shoulder, giving him access to the bare skin over her left. Space for him to place his lips, to put little kisses on. Victoria sighed, put her head in her neck and closed her eyes in pleasure.
“No, My Lady…”, Matty warned, gently grazing the crook of her neck with his teeth, “I need you to keep your eyes open.”
“Why?”, she sighed, resting her head on his shoulder. Matty chuckled.
“Because I need you to see how beautiful you are. Especially…”, he sneaked a hand under her nightgown and on her leg, noticing all too well how her breath got hitched in her throat, “when you fall apart.”
She turned her head again, looking at him. Holding his gaze, she let her right hand follow the path his went before until it rested in the exact same place. Now it was Matty’s turn to frown.
“What do you think you’re doing?”, he asked, noticing exactly how she moved both of their hands up.
“Helping”, she said, her voice so full of studied innocence it was actually a full on provocation and both of them knew about it.
“Did I ask for your help?”
He placed his other hand firmly on her shoulder, slowly moving it towards her throat.
“No”, Victoria hushed and he leaned in so that he could take her earlobe between his teeth.
“Exactly. So leave it”, he warned and she did take her hand off his. Matty was more surprised than he liked to admit. That had been a little bit too easy, almost.
He moved her dress up, exposing the bare skin of her legs while his hand moved up further until it met her underwear. She lifted her hips slightly, leaning into him further and he managed to pull it down more easily than he thought he would. He used the opportunity to bunch the skirt of her dress up around her waist so that her exposed sex was in full display on the mirror. The sight alone made his heart skip a beat.
“Look at that. So wet for me only because I kissed you a little bit?”
His fingers tapped the inside of her thigh just to rail her up a tiny bit.
“I missed you so much…”, she mumbled, almost involuntarily rolling her hips into his touch.
“Oh trust me”, Matty chuckled darkly, “I can literally feel that.”
And with that he ran two fingers through her wetness, covering them in her slick. Victoria sighed his name in pleasure and he put another kiss to her neck. He slowly started to tease her, one finger ghosting over where she needed him most, then two. He could feel her move impatiently against his upper body, rolling her hips as if she could force him to enter her.
“Patience, My Lady, where has your composure gone?”, he told her. “I need you to open your eyes again first. I need you to look at yourself. Seeing how absolutely beautiful you are when you’re needy for me like this.”
He looked into the mirror himself again now for the first time and seeing how his fingers disappeared inside of her made a new wave of lust rise within him. Victoria only whimpered slightly but obeyed as much as to open her eyes.
“Exactly like that. Good girl…”, he said, rewarding her with a kiss to her neck and by slowly pushing two of his fingers inside of her. The new stimulus got him a soft moan of his name and he took that as a motivation to continue his movements, two fingers sliding in and out of her wet cunt, one hand resting loosely around her neck. Victoria writhed against him when he picked up the speed of his fingers and groaned in dissatisfaction when he slowed down again. And after she did so for the third or fourth time - Matty lost count, too mesmerised by the sheer image of her face distorted in pleasure - he saw it. Unnoticed by him, Victoria had slipped a hand inside the neckline of her dress, caressing her left breast. Matty grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her hand up.
“Still not listening, are we?!”, he growled and pulled his fingers out of her cunt so harshly, Victoria had to slap her other hand over her mouth to stifle a scream. Matty didn’t exactly pay attention to it though. He was too busy looking around the room for something very particular without really knowing what it was he was looking for. Or to be more precise: He knew exactly what he needed, he just didn’t know yet what would do the trick. He needed something strong and flexible at the same time, something that wouldn’t hurt her but would still- That was when he saw it. There it was, poking out of one of the drawers as if it was waiting for him. He told Victoria to sit up on her own for a second, got up from the floor and went over to the drawers.
A few moments later he came back, a red satin ribbon in his hand. He suspected it was usually used in hairstyles of some sorts but he wasn’t exactly sure. Matty took his place behind Victoria again, closing his right hand around her right wrist. She asked him what it was he did. He didn’t answer. Instead he wrapped the ribbon around her wrist.
“You know, if there’s something I learned from working with horses everyday, it is that one thing is ridiculously easy: He that will not hear must feel.”
He grabbed for her other hand, tying her left wrist to her right, loosely, at first, granting her enough time to escape the bond if she wanted to. When she didn’t, he tied it more tightly, closing the ends with a knot.
“See?”, he said, pulling her hands on his shoulder so that she didn’t have to keep them up all the time, “Much better, isn’t it? And now…you’re completely at my mercy.”
Without waiting for an answer he shoved one hand down her nightgown harshly, grabbing her right breast with it, kneading the soft flesh, pinching her nipple. While he did, his other hand moved down to her core again and his fingers were coated in her wetness once more in no time. He watched closely in the mirror how they explored her folds, grazed her clit and how they disappeared from view when he sank them knuckles deep into her cunt. He didn’t stop the movement of his other hand while he did. Kept on pinching her nipple while fucking his fingers in and out of her.
“Matthew…I…”
Victoria’s body started to thrash into his more violently, he could feel her clench around his fingers. She was a fever dream of a sight, the way she was so completely at his mercy now with her hands tight up, her legs spread open and her cunt dripping for him. No way to escape him, forced to let him do whatever he wanted to her. He couldn’t help but sink his teeth into her shoulder, power went to his head, clouding his judgment. Devouring her whole. He increased the pace his fingers moved in, thumb circling her clit while his other hand pulled on her nipple. She was his. His to have. His to ruin.
“Come for me”, he all but growled in her ear and he watched in the mirror how her whole body started shaking while she fell apart for him, felt how she clenched around his fingers felt the vibration of the moan she let out against his shoulder. All of this for him to see. All of this his.
Her body went slack in his arms immediately and he was quick to untie her hands again. Victoria’s arms fell down like she didn’t have the strength to keep them up right and maybe she didn’t. Matty put a kiss to her temple, whispering sweet nothings in her ear and then she turned around to him again, an exhausted but excited smile graced her face.
“Was definitely worth the risk, I think.”
“Glad to hear it”, Matty murmured, writing the words on her skin with his lips, while he gently rubbed her wrists.
“Are you ok?”, he asked and Victoria just nodded.
“Yes. Just…utterly exhausted.”
Matty chuckled softly. “Think you’ll be able to sleep now?”
“I consider myself very lucky if I even make it back to bed…”, she whispered.
“Oh I think I can help with that…”, he said, not wasting one more thought on how his back was going to kill him in the morning for what he was about to do now.
He stood up and bowed down to pick Victoria up from the floor, carefully carrying her over to her bed. He laid her down and made sure to pull her panties back up and smooth down her gown so that she was decently covered again. His to have. His to see.
“What do I have to do to make you stay?”, Victoria asked when he just pulled the blanket halfway up her body again. Her hand was resting on his lower arm, he couldn’t tell for how long. But now she was gripping it tight.
“I can’t My Lady. You know I can’t.”
“But I can tell you to. And then you have to. That’s how this works!”
Her voice wasn’t as commanding as expected. Not as angry. But he could tell from the look on her face she was disturbed. Maybe all of this was too much for her in the end. The constant hiding, the constant fear of being caught that cut their moments spent together short way too often. Still, he knew the risks he could take. Climbing up a window-sill for example. Coming in here in the middle of the night. And he knew the ones he couldn’t.
“No. No in this case, I fear, it isn’t. I can’t stay here. It’s too much of a risk.”
“You could be gone by the morning. Stay here, Matthew. Stay here, just for tonight. A warm, comfortable bed, washed sheets, a proper pillow to rest your head on. Stay with me. Please.”
Hearing the plea falling from her lips made his heart stop. And for a moment, just a fragment of a second, he really thought about what would happen if he said yes. If he stayed. A bed offering more than enough space for the both of them. A body to keep him warm over the night. A person so affectionate for him to share the bed with, instead of bedbugs and fleas and the occasional rat that made its way over from the stables. But how could he stay? How could he possibly stay?
He carefully removed her hand from his warm.
“I’m sorry, My Lady.” He put a kiss on her forehead. “I’m terribly sorry. Have a good night.”
He put her arm down on her stomach. And then he turned around and left through the window without looking back.