matty spitting in ur mouth send tweet
Cola
Sometimes, there's only one way a sweet tooth can be fulfilled.
Summer '75 Masterlist
WC: ~2.3k
CW: Dom!Matty Healy x Fem!Reader, smut, spitting, rough sex, dom/sub dynamics, heavy degradation, light choking, fingering, cumplay??, NOT PROOFREAD, smut with no plot
A/N: Finally, I'm back to writing!! I am really hoping to be back to at least a semi-regular writing schedule, so please keep sending me asks for kinky summer75!! I also wrote this in like two hours total and did not proofread but I feel like I just needed to write SOMETHING, so enjoy this!
MDNI!
Enjoy!! xx
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Cool tendrils of condensation dripped from the glass rhythmically, as if they were painting a map onto the hardwood of the table.
Matty sat across from you, his cola half forgotten, yours nearly gone. Afternoon light spilled in from the windows, some old vinyl he had picked up last month spun on his overpriced record-player. Everything about the room was familiar. Domestic, even. It shouldn’t have been exciting. But, then again, he was there.
The heat had woven itself into his home, breaching concrete walls and settling in a slick sheen of sweat across his skin. He brushed back a drip of saltiness into his salt and pepper curls, letting a strand fall loose in front of his eyes.
Your vision danced lower, to his spread legs, jean-clad thighs open just enough where you could comfortably slot yourself between the–
“You’re staring.”
His voice came suddenly, tearing your gaze from the apex of his legs and back to his face. You felt a crimson flush seep through your cheeks, your fingers scrambling to find something to make you look occupied, They landed on the near-empty glass in front of you, only reminiscents of what once was a full drink left. You silently curse yourself for downing it so fast. Suddenly, the heat of the room didn’t seem comparable to the one that was growing as his eyes stayed on you/
“Sorry,” you mutter into the straw, sucking on it and letting the sound of nothing being sucked up into the plastic linger in the room.
“No you’re not.”
His eyes stay glued to you as he watches you hollow your cheeks around the straw, desperate to suck any liquid up.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
You pause, letting the plastic fall from your mouth.
“Drinking?”
You let out a small laugh, matched with a smile. Matty doesn’t so much as grin. If anything, his expression hardened more, eyes blown with something that resembled much more than simply interest. It was the same look he had given you each and every time before he had torn you to pieces: pure lust.
“Nah, you’re not,” his voice drops, “‘think you’re just tryin’ to get my attention.”
You pout slightly, playing into his game in the role you knew drove him mad. It was silly, sure, but it always seemed to get you the results you desired. Namely, handprints on your ass and his cum dripping down your thighs.
“‘M not. Swear.”
“Liar.”
His voice was swift after yours, not leaving any room for argument in the thick, humid air.
“I was just thirsty, that’s all.”
Matty smirks at that and the sight is sinful. He leans back in his seat, his thighs spreading even more as he grins wickedly.
“Clearly, love.”
You frown.
“You know I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Yeah, well,” his voice is soft and condescending, rewriting your words as you speak them, “I think ya’ did.”
You shift in your seat, your bare thighs sliding over one another, desperate to relieve any of the pressure that had been building since the conversation had begun.
You have another go at your drink, shifting around the ice to try and get any liquid, but the attempt is futile. Just as soon as you’ve lifted the straw to your lips, Matty is pulling the glass away entirely.
“Stop that,” he snaps, placing the glass on the wood where it will surely leave a ring, “looking so fuckin’ desperate.”
You melt at his voice, at the sheer strength and force of it. It makes your stomach roll over and your veins run hot. The syllables had punctured every inch of your skin, injecting themselves into your veins and seeping into your bloodstream. You were addicted to the high, all you had to do was play along.
“Hmm? Don’t know what you mean,” You say softly, doing your best doe eyes at him through your lashes.
He looks down at you with a half-smirk half-scowl, “Oh please, love. You know exactly what you’re doin’”.
Matty takes your wrist in his hand, not bothering to lace his fingers with yours. Rather, he pulls you forward as he shifts back.
Your body flows with the motion of his as Matty sits back in his chair, pulling you onto his lap. Any attempt by you to be graceful is lost as he yanks you forwards, his fingers finding the curve of your waist as he pulls you down onto him.
“Suckin’ on your drink like that,” he whispers low and dirty in your ear, placing a kiss right below your earlobe, “actin’ like such a little slut.”
You suck back a whimper as he bites at the sensitive skin of your neck, his hands venturing higher, up over your clothed tits.
“Matty…” you whine as he soothes the bite with his tongue. Your body was putty in his hands. The heat in the air made the rub of his rough denim jeans delicious over your bare thighs, skirt riding up as you bracketed them.
“Shhh, darlin’”, Matty palms at your chest, watching attentively as you arch your back, “I’m not done tellin’ you off, yeah?”
Your brain swims with hazy desire, only emphasised by every touch of his fingers against your chest, and every gentle move of your hips, each one generating addictive friction that shoots straight to your core.
You get a bit more brave with your movements, experimentally rolling your hips deeper before Matty catches your waist with his steady hands, effectively stopping you entirely.
A whine escapes your lips instinctively, body mourning the loss of stimulation all together.
“Ohh, is my poor girl feelin’ needy?”
Matty’s voice is dripping with condescension, and damn, if he doesn’t wear it well.
A smug grin paints his face, skin moist with sweat and humidity, every curl perfectly out of place.
“Of course you are. Always so needy, yeah?”
You divert your gaze, a sudden flush washing over you in a wave of embarrassment. You had been called out, after all. Maybe, you should have been embarrassed. After all, here you were, getting off on the way he was manhandling you into his lap. But, then again, he was the one who pulled you into his lap after seeing you sucking on a goddamn straw.
Before you can retort, Matty’s hand is squeezing your face, his thick fingers pulling your chin so your eyes are level with his.
“C’mon, love,” he murmurs, pupils blown, “wanna hear you say it.”
Never in your life have you felt like such a walking contradiction; your chest bloomed with a deep burgundy flush, embarrassment creeping up your spine as need swirled in your stomach, your panties suddenly seeming a whole lot wetter than they were ten minutes ago.
“Say it.”
Matty squeezes your face again, and you’re snapped back into reality.
You open your mouth, tongue fumbling with letters that had seemingly lost all rhyme or reason under his demeaning gaze.
“I– uh…”
Matty gives a final squeeze to your cheeks before dropping his hand back to your waist and gripping meanly.
“Tell me you’re being a needy little slut,” he mutters, breath heavy against your cheek, “and maybe,” he squeezes your waist, “I’ll give you what you’re clearly so desperate for.”
You whimper at the rasp of his voice against your skin, cheeks painted pink with a mix of desire and embarrassment.
“Say it,” he utters, and you know right there and then that he’s not asking.
You suck in a shallow breath, air barely hitting your lungs, “I–I’m a needy…” Your words trail off as Matty pulls you down, letting your hips roll against his navy jeans. “F-fuck Matty…please…”
Matty smirks, stilling your movements, “keep talkin’ or I’ll stop.”
You nearly whine, body seeming to melt even more, like wax to a flame.
“Keep goin’.”
You nod softly, mind having gone to cotton under his fingertips.
“I’m a n-needy slut…”
Matty smiles, gripping your waist tightly and rubbing you on his thigh. “Good fuckin’ girl. You’re so nasty, gettin’ off on this. Jesus Christ, you’re pathetic.”
A noise that resembles a squeal, but seems to be much closer to a moan escapes you. The friction is delicious against the fabric of his jeans; your flimsy cotton panties hidden under the edge of your skirt are thoroughly soaked through, and you can feel it with every forceful roll of your hips.
“Oh baby,” Matty rasps, “‘bet you’re makin’ such a perfect mess on me, yeah?”
You can’t manage a response, voice catching in your throat as he pulls you down for a particularly deep roll of your hips.
“Can’t even think straight when I’m making you feel good, can you?” He doesn’t wait for a response, in fact, he doubles his efforts, pulling you closer and closer to the edge of a mind-melting release. “‘S all you’re good for, meltin’ for me like this.”
Matty’s right hand slips from your waist up to your cheek, gripping the skin tightly with his digits. His left leaves your waist simultaneously, snaking beneath your skirt and rubbing gentle circles into the clothed skin just above your clit. The contrast is devastating: his right hand grips meanly at your face, his thumb coming up to part your lips. His left hand makes quick work of pulling your drenched panties to the side, parting your other lips.
“Oh darlin”, he smirks as you accept his finger into your mouth, tongue swirling around the digit and cheeks hollowing, “you’re soaked everywhere. Do you just stay wet like this whenever I’m around? Hm?”
His voice is punitive; degrading. He looke up at you as if you were hundreds of meters below him, and you fucking love it. “Mhm,” you gargle around his finger as he begins to circle your sopping hole. He pulls a gasp from your mouth as his fingers move north, rubbing tight figure-eights into your clit with your own wetness. “Always for you.”
“Mmmm, that’s right, darlin’,” Matty grips your chin with his free fingers, squeezing in a tight tempo as you suck on his thumb. “Baby? Can you stay still f’me? Wanna try something.”
You nod, a smile forming around his finger as he pulls it from your mouth with a wet popping noise. At the same time, his left hand leaves your clit, dragging a trail of your slick with his fingers. His two hands swap places, his right finding your cunt as his left reaches your mouth.
“Ready?”
“Mhm…please…”
“Ya’ don’t even know what you’re beggin’ for,” he laughs, “you’re so cute when you’re ruined.”
Matty pushes four fingers in you all at once: two in your mouth, coated in your juices, and two in your aching cunt. The stretch is delicious, and you go from positively empty, to utterly and completely full.
“Fuck!” you gargle as you clench down, barely colding on to any composure. Matty’s thumb finds your neglected clit once more as his fingers scissor inside of your mouth and spongy walls in tandem.
You can taste yourself on his fingers– heavy and sweet and sinful and heavenly.
“Open wide, darlin”, and god, you do. “So willing,” he breathes, “just takin’ whatever I give you. Good girl, yeah.”
Your mouth is wide open for Matty as he presses harshly on your tongue with two fingers, nearly making you gag. Before you can close your mouth, he leans his head back, collecting a wad of spit in his throat, and spits it into your mouth. It's hot and thick and it tastes like cola and ice and him.
“Augh– please!” You rasp, mouth full of your own arousal and his sickly sweet spit, punctuated by the lingering taste of the cola he had been sipping on.
“If you were so damn thirty for that soda, then drink.”
He taps his wet fingers against your throat twice, and it’s all the instruction that you need. You swallow the mixture in one gulp, feeling as the liquid moves down your throat, soar from gasping around his hands.
“Oh, such a good slut, fuckin’ hell”.
Matty presses his lips against yours, and you taste him once more. All while, his right hand never lapses in its torturously quick circles on your clit. As the tension in your stomach increases, you’re sure you're close. After he had dragged you mere inches away from the edge on his thigh, you’re desperate for the release.
“Please, Matty– ‘m close, so close…”
Matty smirks as he kisses you again, his tongue dancing with yours as his taste seeps into your mouth all over again. You swear it’s nearly enough to make you cum on the spot.
“I know, I can feel you squeezin’ me, so tight, babe,” Matty groans as you clench around his fingers over and over, your stomach beginning to spasm as he drags you over a cliff of pleasure. “Let go f’me, come on, give me all that you’ve got.”
You come in a wave of red hot lust and release, a sharp moan shooting from your mouth and immediately being caught in his. Your body shakes and shutters around him in flutters of your cunt and your eyelids. Every inch of you is affected, and hell, if he doesn’t know it.
“So good, fuck. You’re makin’ it so damn hard for me to hold my composure, you know that?”
You smirk as you collapse into his shoulder, “this is you with composure?”
Matty just smiles, stroking your hair. He pulls you back, wiping a lingering line of his spit from the corner of your mouth.
“Oh love, you have no idea.”
