soph 💋😘

[viperify]

oneshots | ᴅᴏᴍᴇꜱᴛɪᴄ!ᴛᴏᴍ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

𑣲⋆ GOOD WIFE.

𑣲⋆ SUMMARY: your husband, Tom, is an occupied man—busy convincing the wizarding world of his ideas, determined on reaching heaven and above. though lately, not only that has been plaguing his every thought...

𑣲⋆ WARNINGS: MATURE CONTENT. domestic!Tom with a breeding kink. slight size kink, hints at free use but consent is acively given, kitchen counter sex (fuckkkk), tits play, Tom discovers something new about himself, rough sex, desperate Tommy, slight choking, pregnancy talks of course, creampie, fingering and pussy eating is considered aftercare in Riddle manor <333

𑣲⋆ AUTHOR'S NOTE: Mar has returned from protecting the city 👩🏼🦇 with food for her favourite children. yall went feral for my domestic!Tom blurb so here you go <333

wordcount: 3,2k

You're about halfway finished with dinner when the front door creaks open and clicks shut just a few moments later. The rustling of his coat and the hurried throwing-his-shoes-in-a-corner hints that once again dinner will be left for "later" when he's finished with whatever is currently plaguing his mind.

And normally, you'd be correct. Usually, when he doesn't have time to properly place his leather shoes, it means you'll receive a gentle kiss to your temple and a whispered excuse as to why he cannot join you for your shared meal today.

But instead of an apology and a rushed kiss, Tom walks towards you with newfound patience. Careful, measured steps close the distance between the two of you until he stops to stand just a mere metre away.

You greet him, still facing the stove.

Perhaps you should have—should've turned to look at him—because you'd have seen it. Spotted it immediately like the tiniest drop of red wine on a white tablecloth.

Desperation. Hunger. Burning desire.

His hands brush over your waist before they circle you, and then his head dips, hot, sharp breaths ghosting past your ear—he places a kiss to the shell of it, brushes over the curve with his lips, his hands splayed across your tummy.

Then, he speaks. No greeting. No excuse. No complaints about the stupidity of people.

Your world tilts ever so slightly as he does.

"You are a good wife," he murmurs, and you catch the strain in his voice. The sincerity in his tone tells you more than he'd ever admit.

That this isn't a rare compliment out of the courtesy of his frozen-over heart.

There's an edge to it—one you haven't heard in a long time. It makes your skin tingle, breath catching in your chest. The spoon stills in the soup you've been bravely stirring up until this moment—some of it boiling over, which snaps your attention back to the pot. To his favourite soup.

It's only—only that this is rare. This isn't something you expected when you first heard the keys turn in the lock. Your brain doesn't yet have a set response for it. This isn't what Tom does—not here in the kitchen, not when he's been gone for three days and would normally head to bed right after dinner.

And by all means, you understand.

He's been busy lately—occupied to the point he comes home after you fall asleep, and when the sunlight wakes you the next morning, his side of the bed has long cooled off. A note is all you get—I apologise for leaving so early, hope to see you soon. Important meetings today. Won't be home in time for dinner.

Often, you do not get to exchange more than a few sentences with him each day.

But it's okay. It's fine, you tell yourself. You've agreed to this—known what he's like since you first met at King's Cross station all these years ago.

You offer him stability—the kind of calm and normality he craves after a long and stressful week. And in return, you get security. Protection. An anchor in turbulent times as they are these days—knowing he is the turbulence, the root of the changes steering the entirety of the wizarding world bow first into a violent sea storm.

Today, as it seems like, you're his anchor too. Pulling him back down to earth from however far he thinks he has ascended to heaven on his way to become a manmade god.

He cages in your legs with his own—hips gently pushing you up against the edge of the counter whilst his lips explore down the length of your neck—kissing, nipping, biting down gently.

You exhale sharply when he finds what he's been looking for—the one spot which has your mind grow fuzzy, makes your skin tingle with the want for more.

He hums in satisfaction—working a bruise into your neck there, tongue swiping over it to soothe the sting before he repeats the same move just an inch farther down.

You begin to realise it now—a bit late perhaps.

He needs you.

That tonight, above anything else, he needs you.

He's been burning for you in ways you wouldn't understand even with complex mind magic. Been thinking about you—about this exact moment—since the morning he left a few days prior.

And thus, right now, he's more than grateful that you're understanding. That you're kind and willing to give yourself to him whenever he wishes you do.

That you submit when he requires it most.

Whether that be at night, when he's just come home and clings to the stress relief he finds as he joins you under the duvets and slips your pyjama shorts down your legs, or when he needs to find distraction in his study in the early morning hours with you on your knees before him.

You'd do it all for him. Have done it all for him.

Tom is aware, too. Aware that even here in the kitchen, after he's been gone for days, you'll allow him to ground himself again. Allow him to have all of you, feel your welcoming warmth envelop him—in more ways than just one.

While he's still preoccupied suckling on the sensitive skin of your neck, his hands travel south, finding the waistband of your skirt—fingers hooking in the stretchy material and easing it down the length of your plush thighs.

You gasp when the cool air, which accompanied him from outside, brushes past your heated skin, and he answers with an appreciative hum as his hand slips between your legs and he lets his thumb stroke over your covered pussy, feeling the dampness soaking through the cotton fabric.

"That's my girl. Look at you—so worked up for me already." he murmurs, giving the supple flesh of your ass a gentle squeeze before he turns you around swiftly and lifts you to sit on top of the kitchen counter, making you face him.

His usually harsh, dark brown eyes study you with rare softness, the mystical dark spots replaced by swirls of honey gold. When the corner of your mouth lifts into a subtle smile, his head dips slightly, lips connecting with yours for an unhurried, soft kiss. In the meanwhile, his fingers expertly work open the buttons of your blouse, one by one, so patiently it frustrates you.

The soup—now boiling on low heat—stands long forgotten on the stove. Your focus has been stolen by the man in front of you, smelling faintly of cigarettes and burnt paper, the spicy scent of whiskey flooding your taste buds when he deepens the kiss.

It doesn't take long for him to strip you of your top and undo the clasp of your bra, easing the straps down your shoulders and discarding the shed clothing on the floor of your kitchen.

His eyes roam over your body then—hungry, desperate to feel you again.

"You're beautiful," he says, placing a kiss on your collarbone—eyes locked on yours, even as his mouth explores downwards. Brushes kisses down your sternum, cups your tits, and kisses you there too.

Soft moans escape your barely-parted lips, one hand tangled in his gorgeous brown curls as you let him have his way with you. You're entranced—entranced in the way his lips kiss every last sane thought of yours away, his touch fiery in a way you chase after the burn, utterly addicted.

Your eyes blink open when he takes a step backwards, the faintest hint of a smirk turning his expression into something almost human. However, before you get to dwell on it, he lifts you off the counter and turns you around again—pressing his hips against yours as his chin rests on your shoulder, hands holding you steady.

Letting you take it in. His want. His lust. His desire and devotion, as he had not too long ago sworn to before the altar. Tom wants you to know what you do to him. The ways you wreck him, bare what is left of his soul, melt the thick layer of ice around his numb heart. He almost laughs at the irony of it.

No enemy could ever come close to the sheer amount of power you hold over his very being.

And you are oh so blissfully unaware of it all.

His lips find your pulse point, nipping gently as he ruts his erection against the curve of your ass. "You feel this? What you do to me?

You try finding purchase at the surface on the counter, holding yourself up best as you can—but with everything he's telling you, with every touch, you only lose more of your control to him. "Yes, Tom— yes, I do. Fuck—"

He growls lowly at the sweet sound of your voice—laced with the same need he's been experiencing these past few days.

"All day, all night. I could not stop thinking about you. Not once. You're plaguing my every thought, haunting my every dream. You are wherever I go. Without you, I am lost," he whispers, so silently, it's carried away faster than you'd like by the breeze sweeping past you through the open window in the adjacent living room.

You swallow at his words—want to taste them on your tongue for longer, weigh them—their meaning, figure out why all of a sudden he's become like this—but you're once again interrupted by the absence of his heat against your body.

Tom works open the button and zipper of his trousers, allowing them to fall to the floor alongside his underwear—and before you know it, the length of him rests snugly between your thighs. Not inside, but there—allowing you to feel the heat of him.

Oh, how you've missed this. Missed having him like this, pressed up against you, groaning when he feels your arousal coat his painfully hard cock.

His hands push your legs together as tightly as possible before he starts moving—gently thrusting between your thighs, his tip, swollen and leaking with precum, nudging against your clit with every movement of his.

"Darling, I need you. I need to feel you—all of you. Will you let me have you?" he rasps out, his gaze focused on the way his cock disappears between your thighs each time he thrusts forwards, the way your slick has soaked him each time he withdraws halfway.

You are lost for words. Logic has left you, and so has the ability to speak.

You moan instead.

Tom takes it as a yes.

He pushes inside—slowly, savouring every inch. Every hitched breath of yours. Every slight tremble of your walls around him—stretching to take him, accommodating him after all these weeks of neglect.

The burn is intense—but so is the urge to take him all. Feel him wreck you without care—as he has so often.

"So fucking tight, barely letting me in," he grumbles, eyebrows drawn together in concentration, coaxing your legs apart ever so slightly. "So good for me."

It takes him concentration and willpower not to bury his entire length in you with one quick thrust—his cock throbbing with every inch enveloped by your slick cunt, warm and snug around him.

You both gasp when his pelvis is flush with your ass—he allows you to get used to him so deep inside you again, all of him buried to the very base. One of Tom's hands sneaks from your hips to your lower tummy, pressing down gently when he finds what he is looking for.

"Feel this? Feel me right here?"

You whimper in response—a broken sound that makes his lips curve into a smile as they brush a kiss over your shoulder blade. How could you do anything other than that? How could he expect a coherent answer when he's nestled so deep inside you, your lungs burn with each shaky inhale?

"You do, don't you? And this?" he asks, voice strained with desire, giving you a subtle thrust and feeling himself move inside of you. He drags his cock against your walls so slowly, you feel every single ridge. Every single vein stretching beneath the thin skin, as well as the thick, familiar one on the underside of him.

You think you may lose your mind if he does not finally ease the ache that has built up in your stomach.

He repeats the same move when only your mouth opens, but no sound leaves you.

"Oh god, Tom— yes, I do!" you whine, arching into his touch. "Please, more. Need more."

So, he gives you more. His thrusts start gentle, only withdrawing half of him before easing back inside your dripping walls—but not for long. He's been wanting, craving you and this moment for nearly a week.

Now that he has you, he might as well take you properly.

Slow and tender soon turns rough and frantic, the sound of his skin smacking against yours with every snap of his hips filling the kitchen, drowning out any other sound but your combined moans.

With one of his hands delicately wrapped around your throat to keep you upright and pressed against his chest, the other on your lower tummy, intrusive thoughts return like rats to a wheat barn.

Do rats chew cables?

Because certainly—Tom feels rewired. Something has changed. Something which he cannot exactly point out. Suddenly, the hand on your lower belly eases from where it's been glued this entire time—and instead, splays across the soft swell of your tummy, looking, searching for something that does not exist.

Not yet.

You've never spoken about the prospect of children. You never thought you would—given Tom's rather clear stance on the topic.

He's him. Tom Riddle—once a little, orphaned boy, begging for lukewarm soup and new donated clothes to replace his torn ones, looked down upon by society and his peers—now has the world laid out at his polished leather shoes.

He's reached this all himself. From scratch, from absolutely nothing, he's worked himself up to the most respected—and feared—wizard of Great Britain and far beyond.

Tom has never cared about passing on his legacy. Everything he does, every move, every discussion, every trade for information is for himself and for you—not for his name. Tom does not require an heir for greatness, nor to be remembered.

And yet—here, in this moment—he wishes for nothing more than just that.

To bury his seed so deep within your velvety walls, you'll grow round and swollen with his child—carrying and nurturing his heir.

He growls lowly at the thought—breathing heavily against the sensitive skin of your neck. He's so close, he can taste the sweetness of his impending orgasm on his tongue—his cock throbbing deep inside you, twitching with want.

And yet, he holds himself back. Just a little longer.

"The potion. Don't—fuck—don't take it tonight. In fact, throw it out."

Have you reached the final stage of delirium, or did you hear him right? You don't think you did. You think you may faint any second, instead.

"W-what?"

Tom's thrusts maintain their pace, rutting his cock deep inside you while he presses a kiss to the corner of your lips. "You understood me perfectly fine. Do what I say, darling. Trust me."

You shake your head, disbelieving, distrusting of what your ears made of his words. "I thought you didn't want—"

"My mind has changed." Tom rasps, hand still splayed across your tummy, the other descending to your chest, squeezing your tits. "Be a good wife and listen to your husband."

A wanton moan escapes you—at both the added stimulation and the insinuation.

He wants what you've long written off as a possibility.

Tom Riddle, the most influential wizard the wizarding world has seen in the last few centuries, wants you to be the mother of his child.

Fuck.

"As you wish," you gasp, every rough thrust of his knocking the air from your lungs. "I will— get rid of it."

Tom hums, cupping one of your breasts whilst his palm massages over your belly. "You'll make—god—the most beautiful mother. Round and swollen with my child. You want it too, don't you?"

"Yes," you hiccup, the knot in your stomach tightening, pleasure blooming low where his cock is nestled deep. "I've been— thinking about it. Often."

To put it lightly.

Tom growls at that, pulling you a few centimetres away from the edge of the counter—just so he can slip his hand between your thighs, finding your puffy, swollen clit.

He can feel your walls pulse around him, legs shaking, moans growing louder—he knows you're just as close as he is.

Whilst his fingers rub fast, tight circles over your sensitive bud, his thrusts grow faster if possible, hips smacking against your own with newfound motivation.

Fuelled by the urge to push his cum deep, to succeed at his first try to produce an heir with you. To watch your belly swell with his child.

To make you a mother.

Both of you reach your climax at the same time—your walls pulsing needily around him, nails scraping over the marble surface of the counter as you finally let your body sink down on top of it. You whimper when he follows not a second later, when you feel his cock twitch, and when he finally, accompanied by a low, throaty groan, spills himself deep inside your warm pussy.

Tom stays like this for a little while longer—buried all the way, keeping his cum right where it belongs—gathered at your cervix.

"That's it," he murmurs when he withdraws gently, inch by inch, as not to hurt your irritated, stretched walls. "That's a good girl. Took it all for me. All of it."

What you don't know: Tom is far from done.

Because this is Tom Riddle who you are dealing with, he quite obviously has done his research before his return this evening.

And from having read through countless books—both magic and muggle—he has gathered that, well, orgasms can help with increasing the chance of pregnancy.

He helps you straighten yourself, gathers you in his arms, and then carries you to the bedroom.

You ask about the soup.

He shushes you, eases you onto the bed, and parts your legs.

"Heard that it— takes better like this. When I make you feel good." Tom says, watching with interest as the first drops of his cum leak from your hole, his head so close to your pussy you feel his breath on your sensitive, glistening skin.

"Again," he murmurs, then pushes his cum back inside your cunt with two of his fingers, "again," his head dips, his wet, hot tongue licking a stripe up your slit, "and again." Finally, Tom's lips close around your clit, suckling gently, looking straight at you from between your legs as though that's where his home had been all this time.

Looking at you with promise.

thank you so much for reading! <3 feel free to reblog and leave feedback! :3 — masterlist. | oneshots.

©2026 viperify. please do not copy, translate or claim my work as your own.

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[tomriddlehyperfixataion]

What he notices

Tom Riddle x Reader

Summary; Tom Riddle notices many things, but recently, all he can notice is the Hufflepuff girl that has wormed her way into his life.

warnings; stupid amount of fluff, minor smut, dark Tom, obsessive Tom, follows canon Tom.

She’s…distracting.

Tom thinks, watching her from across the library, watching her as she wrote not with quills, but with silly pom-pom tipped pens that were all colors of the rainbow.

She’s obnoxious.

Tom thinks as he watches her laugh the loudest he'd ever heard as her friend face plants into a pile of snow, tumbling over herself as her other friends join in, snickering and laughing as their friend lay in the snow—defeated.

She’s annoying.

Tom thinks as she covers the front and inner cover of her potions notebook with stickers, a flower there, a snake on the other side of that, and then a fairy over here. She offers him a sticker, a skull with a snake curled around it.

She says it suits his aesthetic.

He doesn’t say a word, but the sticker ends up in his bag and then on the back inner cover of his diary.

She’s strangely morbid.

Tom thinks as she oohs and awes as he shows her a dead snake, which had been eaten clean by beetles, and she asks him if he knows how to preserve a skeleton.

He says nothing, and a week later she finds a perfectly preserved snake skeleton at her usual library seat.

She’s overly friendly.

Tom thinks as she tells him they were friends now, he took her sticker, he preserved the snake skeleton, and now he stood before her, letting her hold his hand as she declared no take-backs, returns, or exchanges.

He doesn’t know how to respond to that.

She’s clingy.

Tom thinks as she hugs his arm after catching up with him in the crowded corridor, using his height to get through the other side. Later, she’s sitting next to him in the library, moving from her usual spot to his. She’s shoulder to shoulder with him

 He’s not sure if he hates it or not.

She’s overly friendly.

He’s thought this before, but he thinks it again as she greets everyone with a smile, even those who sneer back or talk about her cruelly when she isn’t around.

They don’t deserve her kindness, he thinks, holding back a smirk as the petrified students are escorted into the hospital wing after being found in a flooded corridor.

She’s such a Hufflepuff.

He thinks, cheeks pink from the cold and so much more as she wraps her black and marigold scarf around his neck—it’s still warm from being around her neck and smells like her perfume.

She smiles at him, and he wonders what the hell he’s done to deserve it.

She’ll devour him alive.

He thinks, his mouth bruising against hers as she pins him to his floor, back to his plush dorm room rug, his wrists pinned down as she moves her mouth against his in a way that makes his head spin.

He’s going to let her.

He thinks as he arches into her, gasping as her hot mouth engulfs him, and he hasn’t had control for the last hour, and he likes it, he thinks foolishly.

She’s going to destroy him.

He thinks, head hazy with pleasure, barely able to moan as she bounces on top of him, hands on either side of his neck—constricting his air, and it makes his head spin and toes curl. She lets go just as he reaches the peak, and he literally blacks out, sucking in air as she gingerly lifts off him and collapses on top of him—his arms wrapping around her tightly.

She’s oddly devious.

He thinks, watching her chew on the stupid pom-pom end of her pen, a green one in his hand because she stole his quill and lied about it, saying if he truly needed to write then he could borrow one of her many pens!

He lies to himself that he hates it. He lies to himself that her grin when he took the pen didn’t make butterflies swarm his stomach.

She’s full of surprises.

He thinks, blinking at the ferret at his feet, familiar eyes staring straight back at him. they have a staring contest for a solid minute before he finally asks if that’s her, and she lets out a stupid sort’ve noise that almost has him laughing and he leans down, opening his sleeve to her and she’s up his sleeve and on his shoulder so quick he barely has time to blink.

She’s clingy.

Once again, he’s stated this before, but since becoming an Animagus, it’s impossible to keep her off him—Not that he minds. She’s in his sleeves, his shirt, his hood, around his neck—she falls asleep easily—soaking up his warmth and trading some of her own back when curled around his neck like a living scarf.

It’s terribly unfair how cute she is as a ferret, and she’d be the only cute one in the world to him.

She can be delightfully protective.

He realizes as she full-on tackles and begins to brawl with Olive Hornby for trying to spike his drink with a love potion, his eyes nearly starry as she beats Olive’s face until it’s bloodied, and as a prefect—he has to pull her off.

As her boyfriend, he wants to let her keep going, but he can't—so he drags her off to an empty classroom and snogs her stupid.

She’s tenderhearted.

He thinks as she stares at him teary-eyed as he tells her about his childhood, about the damp closet he got locked in for ‘looking cruel’, about the forced exorcisms when he ‘spoke in tongues’, about how his mother died giving birth to him, about how the orphanage reached out to his muggle father—yes he even told her that part of him he was ashamed of—and his father had never responded, didn’t even send a single pound to support his son.

She hugs him, nearly knocking him onto his back on his bed—and sobs into his chest; apologizing for things that were not her fault.

He never wants her to cry like this over him ever again.

She’ll abandon her own morals for him.

He realizes with sudden surprise, eyes wide as she does not run as she catches him in the girls' bathroom, where Myrtle Warren's body lies, and the basilisk slinks back into the under-school pipes—he’s terrified she’ll run, that she’ll betray him.

He’s terrified to lose her, terrified for the first time. But she only gives Myrtle a cold, empty look and takes his hand, pulling him out of the bathroom. She stands with him later that night as Myrtle’s body was taken out by aurors, hand in his.

He needs her.

He realizes, hands dripping with pitch-black potion ichor, shaking as he reaches into his chest and pulls out his soul. She sits with him, she does not run, watching as he splits his soul and places it into her body—watching her tremble in pain as the potion stains her skin.

He loves her.

He realizes, holding her close as they sleep the events of the night off, he felt ill; shaking and faint. Her chest ached—feeling thick and heavy, but her face did not leave his chest, holding him just as close as he held her.

He’s going to make sure she never leaves his side.

He thinks as he watches her kill his grandmother, a deranged, pleased smile on his face as his father and grandparents lay dead. He snogs her against the grand table, watches as she splits her own soul mere hours later and places it inside his chest, snug against his own.

He’s going to make her his queen.

He thinks as they lie in their crappy Knockturn alley apartment over a year later, the humid air making their skin sticky and the bed far too warm for comfort.

He’s going to give her the world and more.

He thinks, staring down at her as she sleeps against his side, the gaunt ring on her finger—protecting a fracture of his soul twice over.

He’s going to marry her.

He thinks as they visit the shore side a week later, staring at her as she wears a white sun dress and laughs as the ocean curls around her ankles.

She’s still his Hufflepuff.

He thinks as she grins and hands him a stupid pink pom-pom-topped pen as he does his inventory at work, hiding his quill beneath the desk.

She’s loyal.

He thinks as he tells her they need to leave, the Hufflepuff cup and Slytherin’s locket clutched in his hand. She doesn’t question him and packs her things, taking his hand as he buys the first train tickets out of London within the hour.

He’ll miss her if she ever leaves him.

He thinks, several years into their decade of exploration, searching for dark artifacts—searching for Ravenclaw’s diadem to make another horcrux. They’ve wound up in a forest cabin, she’s cooking dinner and does the laundry; he cant help but imagine her as his perfect little housewife, and he has to stop himself from pinning her against the kitchen counter and putting a baby in her then and there.

She stays even as he begins to change.

Even as his skin pales and flakes, even as his eyes turn blood red, even as his body twists and transforms—she does not leave, she kisses him the same, loves him the same.

She returns with him to London.

She calls him by his chosen name.

She stays.

He kill her if she ever leaves.

She becomes his wife, and then the mother of his child.

She loves him even after he loses his mortal beauty and becomes monstrous.

He regrets very little, sometimes—he mourns the loss of his handsomeness, but he never regrets her.

He thinks, watching her sleep, curled up gently in the soft fabric of their bed, cradling her very pregnant belly. He moved them into a manor, a wedding gift from Abraxas—an old summer family Malfoy home—and he’s given her everything he’d ever wanted for himself.

Power, money, a home.

He leans close, kissing her temple and she mumbles out her affection—he smiles against her skin and tucks her in gently, making sure the cooling charms were working as he stands, returning to his meeting room with his death eaters.

He’s realized many things over the years, and she is his favorite.

-end-

@helloamalien

[viperify]

oneshots | ᴘʀᴏꜰᴇꜱꜱᴏʀ!ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

KEEP TALKING, PROFESSOR!

SUMMARY: sucking off Professor Riddle while he's talking to a student. that's the summary. have fun. ;)

WARNINGS: MATURE CONTENT. nasty nasty stuff. messy blowjob. exhibitionism, rough oral m!receiving, teasing, slight dumbification, he watches you in the mirror, choking on it, MESSY blowjob again bc I MEAN it, wtf is wrong with me genuinely, reader LOVES gagging on it, cumming in mouth, face slapping, cockwarming

AUTHOR'S NOTE: sometimes I question my sanity while writing these. then I get horny. then I remember yall love me. then, I hit the post button.

wordcount: 3,1k

Your knees ache, dark bruises blooming beneath the thin skin above your joints as you scrape against the rough, worn-down wooden panels of his study. You`ve been here for no more than twenty minutes—not wasting time with unnecessary talking before you sank to your knees and crawled underneath his desk, eager fingers fumbling with the metal of his belt.

Whatever this is between you two—it has shifted into something more than originally intended.

Just once, he said. One time, to improve your grade—he'd sworn to it. To himself more than to you. But one time didn't just stay one time. After two weeks of trying to convince himself he didn't crave you as much as you craved him, his resolve finally shattered.

That very day, he ordered you to stay behind after class ended, and not two minutes later, you were bent over his desk at the front of the classroom, skirt bunched around your waist, his fingers digging into your hips with a bruising grip as his cock slid inside you with one ruthless thrust.

Since that moment, visits in his study have become rather routine than exception—at first, every two weeks. Now, you visit him nearly every day—late at night, when the girls in your dorm are soundly asleep, you slip from beneath the soft warmth of your duvet, cover your pyjamas with your robes, and hurry down the dark, eerily quiet corridors until you reach his study.

Just one issue today—you've been invited to a birthday party of one of your friends after dinner, and you couldn't possibly miss out on that just for the sake of your secret rendezvous with your professor.

However, after seeing him in class earlier today, his new suit fit his beautifully sculptured body to perfection—you couldn't resist. Your thighs pressed together beneath the surface of your desk, and for the rest of your lesson, the only thing on your mind was his pretty cock stuffing you full.

Needless to say, you've been aching for him the rest of the day, and when classes finally ended, you did not even bother returning to your own dorm. Instead, you looked to your left and right before taking the corner leading to the professor's residences and, with four brief knocks—as you agreed upon—announced your presence.

The door flung open with the help of a wandless spell muttered by him, not bothering to interrupt his work for your sake.

Tom knew what you came here for. Knew it the second your gaze lingered on him for too long during class, watched as your thighs clenched together whenever he so much as looked in your direction.

Needy girl.

For you to come here earlier than usual was no surprise. For you to sink to your knees before even speaking a single word wasn't either. So, he lets you do as you please without speaking a word as he continues correcting essays.

The first sound you earn from him is when you work his zipper open and free his already semi-hard cock from the confinement of his trousers, eagerly wrapping your hand around his girthy length—a low growl reverberating from the depths of his chest, dick pulsing to life in your hand.

Professor Riddle isn't a man you can impress easily. Not with outstanding performances in class, and certainly not by being bold and loud—but you, you have found a way.

An incredibly filthy one.

It was your idea to place a mirror opposite his work desk. Your idea to only wear your tiniest skirts and thongs when paying him a visit.

And Tom—he's quickly grown quite fond of your proposition for various reasons.

While he still pretended to focus on the paper in front of him when you entered, as soon as you sank to your knees, he straightened his gaze, watching as you crawled underneath the table on all fours. Your skirt slipped up far enough for him to see it—the red lace thong he left in a box beneath your duvet as a present now slick and soaked with your want for him.

This is the exact reason why he loves this goddamn mirror so much.

Beneath the table, you begin stroking him softly—not tightly enough for it to feel good, but enough to get him hard for you. His cock twitches in your hand, a pearly bead of precum rolling down his flushed tip.

From the corner of your vision, you see his arms still, the faint sound of his fountain pen adding corrections to the essay in front of him fading into silence. That's when you know you've got his full attention on you—on the feeling of your hand pleasuring him, on your reflection in the mirror as you wriggle your ass for him.

"Concentrate, professor." you murmur, collecting the wetness on the head of his cock with the tip of your tongue, humming in approval at the familiar taste. "Wouldn't want you to make a mistake, hm?"

"Quiet," he replies almost instantly, voice raspy, his cock now pulsing and rock-hard in your palm. "Finish what you've started, brat."

His left hand drops to his lap, finds your hair, and pulls you closer—an unspoken warning not to get too brave with him. At the same time, he flips up your skirt with his fine leather shoes again, which slipped down the curve of your ass.

"Now, arch your back and get to work. Want to watch how wet you get just from sucking me."

You do as he says, of course, one hand on his thigh, the other tightly wrapped around his base as you guide the first few inches of him past your glossed lips. He groans lowly when he feels your wet, hot tongue circle the sensitive head of his cock, relaxing back against his chair, his pen slipping from his hand, eyes fluttering closed.

God, he needs this after today.

You take him deeper then—eager to taste his hot cum on your tongue.

But then—just as you're about to choke around him for the first time that evening—two sharp knocks echo from the door to his study.

He tenses instantly, and you draw back in surprise. If anyone sees you two like this, you are in trouble. Big trouble. You inch closer to him beneath the desk, sitting in between his legs in order to make as little of you visible as you can—but clearly Tom isn't satisfied with that solution.

"Hide yourself in the closet," he hisses beneath his breath, watching the door handle as the person knocks another time. "Now!"

You roll your eyes at that, because the closet in his study is fucking tiny—but you decide to listen for once. Or at least, you want to listen for once—however, before you get to do so, the door flies open, and an exasperated student of the second year bursts inside, losing a few papers on the way, stopping right before his desk.

"Professor Riddle, I have something urgent to discuss!"

You sit back down, breathing out a relieved breath. He didn't see you at first glance, thank Merlin and thank whatever gods Muggles believe in.

Tom must be equally relieved, easing the tension in his muscles slightly. He clears his throat before he speaks. "What is it, Mr. Flewett?"

The younger student goes on to explain said urgent matter—and you have to keep yourself from giggling and subsequently getting yourself caught. His very urgent matter is the project due in two days. He's asking—begging—Tom for an extension.

The student must be new here. No one else would dare even think of asking Riddle this—or bursting into his study without permission.

He's talking on and on, without a single break. Trying to explain how busy he's been, that he hasn't yet started with the preparation. Making it worse for him without even meaning to do so.

This is good, you think—he's so caught up in his own problem, in his nervousness, that he doesn't notice you at all, neither as a soft laugh escapes your lips when Tom relaxes fully, and you can clearly imagine the disinterested look that must be etched into his features currently.

His hand finds your hair again then—tugging at the roots gently, shutting you up.

The student is still talking.

And your professor's cock? Twitching right before your lips and so fucking hard, his tip is glistening with precum.

What a terrible waste.

An idea comes to your mind then—lips curving into an evil little smile. This will be fun.

You arch your back again—skirt still bunched around your waist, lace of your panties damp with arousal. The sight of it earns you a low growl from him, shifting slightly in his seat.

The student stumbles over his next words, but keeps talking, explaining, apologising.

Poor Tom—he must be so damn bored. So why not spice it up a little?

Your fingers hook into the lace of your panties, slowly, teasingly easing them down your thighs until they're just above your knees, where they're bent on the floor—your soaked pussy now perfectly angled towards the mirror.

Because you know his eyes are on your reflection in his mirror, not on the student pleading with him to grant him extra time for his project. Riddle stills completely at the sight right before his eyes—but he keeps his composure. For now.

With a relaxed, bored voice, he answers his student that it's not possible to extend the due date. That this is his own fault, a missed chance for a good grade when he is already failing his class.

Tom is so good at this. So awfully talented at keeping his voice steady, his expression neutral and strict, even when his cock is leaking precum, the thick vein on the underside pulsing, practically begging for your lips and mouth. So good at answering nonchalantly, while every hidden part of his body is telling an entirely different story—hand in your hair tightening to a level that's bordering painful, thigh muscles flexing beneath your touch.

Another pearl of precum forms on top of his pretty cock, and this time—this time, you can't resist.

Your face is mere centimetres from his dick, and you close the distance within less than a second, swiping your tongue over the wet, reddened head of his cock, letting the taste of him flood your senses, thighs clenching.

Tom hisses, his hips barely staying seated with much effort on his side. He fucking hisses, not quietly either—shutting the student's rambles up effectively.

His fingers stay buried in your hair—but he doesn't make a move to push you away, instead, he keeps you right there.

"A-Are you alright, Mr. Riddle?" the younger student manages, voice trembling, as do his legs not a metre away from you.

Tom takes his sweet time to respond to that. Moments that must feel like hours to the guy pleading with him, probably already realising his mistake. In the meanwhile, your tongue darts out again, brushing over his tip with short kitten licks, essentially having his hips buck into your touch.

"Yes, yes, I am." Tom grits out, eyes focused on the mirror behind the student, watching you tease him. "We will speak about this matter later—you're dismissed."

From the periphery of your vision, you catch the blonde guy shake his head. "But professor, this is urgent… I—"

You decide it's a good time to wrap your lips around the aching head of his cock, suckling gently, one hand wrapped around his thick, throbbing base—slick with your spit and precum—the second cupping his balls, massaging gently.

"Later," I said." Tom responds, voice shaky. The student gulps, taking a cautious step backwards. "Can you not see I am quite occupied?"

Poor guy. Probably thinking this is because of him.

He nods then, retreating towards the door. "Yes sir, my deepest apologies."

When Tom doesn't spare him more than a strict glance, he leaves in a haste, the door falling shut behind him.

Tom pulls you off his cock with a wet sound the second the lock clicks.

"Dumb little girl," he murmurs, glaring down at the innocent eyes you're offering him. "I expect you to make this up to me later—now, finish what you've started. And show me, with extra effort, just how sorry you are."

"I am not sorry, though." You say decidedly before you spit on his cock, watching it cascade down the side before taking him back in your mouth.

He pretends he didn't hear you. For your sake.

The thing is, you like it messy—and Tom, Tom loves it messy. He adores how filthy you sound with him stuffing your mouth full, when you drool around him and soak him with your spit. Undoubtedly though, his favourite part is when you let his cum dribble back onto his cock and watch it drip down to his balls, mixing with your saliva before you suck it back in and swallow the mess you've created.

He fucking loves how nasty you are for him.

Right now, he's observing you bob your head up and down his length, gagging around him each time his tip hits the back of your throat—the vibrations having his fingers fist your hair more roughly, groaning lowly.

"Mmm, y’ taste so good," you mumble around his cock denting your cheek, sucking eagerly. He twitches inside you at that, hissing when your hot tongue swipes over the crown of him.

"You have a filthy mouth on you, darling." Tom replies, guiding your head down on his length until you choke—keeping you there for a little longer before he lets you catch your breath.

You smile up at him, then. "You love it, professor. Don't pretend it's any different."

The next few minutes, you gradually increase your pace—keep him lodged in your throat for longer, spluttering around him before you withdraw and wet his cock with your spit, licking it back up before your lips close around him again, and you repeat the process.

Your hand leaves his thigh, wandering between your own instead—gently rubbing circles around your neglected, puffy clit, spreading your folds as you run two fingers down your slick slit.

"Fuck," Tom's head dips back at that view. Your glistening, slick-coated pussy on display for him while you make the filthiest sounds sucking him off, gagging and moaning around him.

He is embarrassingly close. Already.

The things you are doing to him…

…And the things he will do to you in return…

"Should have you write an essay on how to pleasure a man," he rasps, hips jerking upwards when you choke around him again, allowing him to feel the vibrations of your muscles. He hisses lowly, wetting his lips at the slick sounds your fingers are drawing from your cunt.

You ease off of him for a second then, blinking up at him innocently.

"Would you let me pass—," you ask him, licking a thick stripe up the pulsing vein on the underside of his cock, holding eye contact while you do so. "—professor?"

"Fuck—" he responds, groaning in pleasure when you suck him back into your warm mouth. "With an Outstanding, even."

Professor Riddle has never once given anyone the highest mark—claiming that no work can ever be perfect. It simply doesn't exist for him. Never has.

"Mmmmh," you purr, suckling on his oversensitive tip, purposely keeping him right on that blissful edge he's currently teetering on. "Generous."

He shakes his head, cock throbbing inside your mouth, your head sinking down on him until your nose is pressed against his lower abdomen. "No. Well deserved."

You quicken your pace at that, and he growls, gritting his teeth, jaw clenched tightly—he is going to come. He is going to fucking come so hard, you'll fucking struggle with it.

When both of his hands fist your hair, pushing you down on his pulsing length, you know he is going to spill down your throat any second—and when your throat closes around the invasion, and you struggle against his grip, he finally does.

Accompanied by a string of mumbled curses, he empties himself deep inside your mouth with thick, hot ropes of white cum, making you swallow around him eagerly before he lets you go.

You pull off him, sucking in deep breaths as you cough violently, a string of saliva connecting your swollen lips to his flushed tip.

When your breathing slows down, an eager grin spreads on your lips. You dive back in—tongue cleaning your thick spit and the remnants of his cum off his cock, making nasty, slick sounds.

"Come here," he grunts, chair screeching against the wooden planks of his floor as he lifts you onto his lap, kissing your lips and wiping the drool from your chin. "You are a nasty fucking girl. Y'know that?"

Your head dips to press a kiss to his tense jaw. "Only for my favourite professor. With the others I am good. Mostly."

SMACK!

Your head whips to the side at the sharp impact his palm makes with your cheek, leaving behind a blissful sting, coaxing a moan from your lips.

"Sit down on it," he orders, dark brown eyes leaving no room for argument as they flick from your own to his hardening cock mere inches from your slick pussy. "I don't want to hear another word from that filthy mouth until I am done correcting these essays."

Your head turns to find a huge pile of papers on his desk.

No fucking way.

"But I am invited to a birthday party," you pout, fighting the hold he has on you—without success.

He huffs a laugh, lifts your hips, and sinks into your weeping, pulsing hole with one single, vicious thrust—then, lodged deep in your warm, velvety walls, he averts his attention back to the paper he left abandoned on his desk around half an hour ago.

"You will not move a single inch until I am done here with you, sweetheart. Even dumb little girls like you have to learn that every action comes with its consequences."

little funfact: I rushed through writing this as I am currently at a birthday party posting this. yep. you heard that right.

thank you so much for reading! <3 feel free to reblog and leave feedback! :3 — masterlist. | oneshots.

©2026 viperify. please do not copy, translate or claim my work as your own

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@glowingatdawn @whimpurrin @cb97s-babyygirl @cexoria @yuunarii-arii @kzylvr @eleventhboi @melodymoo2 @venomous0 @dreaming-of-epiphanies @simplyastra

[parseltonguekisses]

the dark lord’s a simp

Your big mean husband.. who is oh so sweet to his wife 18+

Your husband’s voice rolled through the manor like thunder, low, commanding, and laced with venom, reaching you the moment your eyes fluttered open. Early morning light filtered through the heavy velvet curtains, painting the room in muted gold and warming the bare skin of your legs where the sheets had slipped away. A faint crease formed between your brows as you listened, trying to catch the sharp edges of his words. He rarely let anything disturb your sleep. Or disturb you in general.

You sat up, the silk of your sleep shorts whispering against your thighs as you tugged them back into place. Bare feet met the cool hardwood, then the smoother chill of the stairs, carrying you silently downward with curious, deliberate steps. The moment you reached the dining room, dark, piercing eyes locked onto yours through the glass panes of the door and softened just a hair. A single ring-clad hand lifted in silent command—come.

A delicious thrill sparked low in your bell as you pushed the door open. ptk

The heavy air inside was thick with tension. Several Death Eaters sat rigid at the long table, faces pale, shoulders tight. Not one of them dared look at you for more than a fraction of a second. Without breaking stride in his tirade, Tom reached for you, strong arms pulling you smoothly onto his lap. Your back met the solid wall of his chest, his muscled arm banding possessively around your waist, anchoring you against him. The heat of his body seeped through the thin fabric of his shirt, and you felt the hard ridges of muscle shift as he adjusted you exactly where he wanted you.

The entire room seemed to stop breathing.

Tom’s voice never wavered, deep and arctic as he continued tearing into the Carrows for their latest incompetence. Anger sharpened every syllable, power radiating from him in palpable waves. Yet his free hand slipped beneath the table, warm and unhurried, stroking slow, soothing circles along the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. Each pass of his fingers drifted higher, teasing the hem of your shorts, brushing dangerously close to where you were already growing wet for him.

You shivered, biting your lip to stay quiet as his thumb traced delicate patterns over your skin, sending sparks straight to your core. His cock twitched beneath you, thickening noticeably against your ass with every subtle shift of your hips. Only you could feel the way his breathing deepened, the faint rumble in his chest when you pressed back against him just a little harder.

“And lastly,” Tom’s voice dropped into something colder, darker, and far more dangerous—a velvet blade pressed against every throat in the room. His arm tightened around your waist, fingers digging into your hip with possessive hunger as he spoke. “Avery… if I catch your eyes on my wife again, I will rip them from your skull myself and feed them to the snakes while you scream. Look at her once more and you’re dead.”

A heavy, terrified silence blanketed the room.

His fingers slid higher beneath the table, slipping under the edge of your shorts to brush teasingly over your slick, swollen folds. A soft, barely audible growl vibrated against your ear meant only for you.

“You’re already soaked f’me,” he murmured, lips brushing the shell of your ear, voice now low and rough with arousal while his cold gaze remained fixed on his trembling followers. “Such a good girl. Sit still and let me finish… then I’ll take care of you princess.”

It was nearly impossible to concentrate on the rest of the meeting. Tom’s cock was fully hard beneath you now, thick and insistent against your ass, and every tiny shift of your hips made him twitch. His fingers kept teasing beneath the table—slow, deliberate strokes along your soaked folds, occasionally circling your swollen clit with just enough pressure to make your thighs tremble. The room felt smaller, heavier, the air thick with fear and the faint, intimate scent of your arousal.

Malfoy stuttered through his report under the weight of Tom’s bored, icy stare. You watched his nostrils flare, a bitter laugh huffing from his lips before he finally cut the man off.

“I think that’s enough for today,” Tom said, voice sharp as a blade. “The next time you all return with nothing but incompetence, I will ensure it is the last time you draw breath.”

Muttered acknowledgments spilled from masked faces—trembling, broken things. The Death Eaters rose quickly and flooded from the room. Avery kept his gaze glued to the floor so intently it looked as if he’d been blinded. Not once did he risk even a glance in your direction. ptk

The door clicked shut behind the last of them.

The moment they were gone, Tom’s arms tightened around you, squeezing until a soft, squeaky giggle escaped your lips. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, dark curls brushing your skin as he peppered frantic, hungry kisses along your throat—warm, open-mouthed presses that made your pulse race.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he murmured, the dangerous edge completely gone from his voice. Only quiet warmth remained, the low timbre raising goosebumps across your arms. “Did I wake you?”

You nodded, letting your head fall back to rest against his collarbone, breathing in the clean, masculine scent of him—sandalwood, parchment, and something darker that was purely your husband. “Sorry, princess. Did you sleep well?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, distracted as the rough pads of his fingers continued toying with the soaked patch on your shorts, pressing the damp fabric against your aching clit.

“So needy in the morning,” he purred, amusement and desire thickening his tone. “You like seeing me like that, don’t you? Mean. In control.” His teeth grazed your earlobe. “Getting wet while I threaten them.”

Your face burned, but you couldn’t deny it. He already knew the answer.

“Use your words, honey,” he coaxed, sliding two fingers beneath the edge of your shorts to glide through your slick folds.

“Yes… I-I like seeing you in charge,” you breathed, hips rolling into his touch. “Please, Tom.”

A pleased, rare smile curved his lips—the kind he reserved only for you. Hearing his name in that soft, needy tone from your mouth never failed to affect him. One hand slid up to cradle your jaw, tilting your head so he could claim your mouth in a slow, deep kiss while the other continued its teasing between your thighs.

“My sweet, curious little wife,” he whispered against your lips. “Sneaking downstairs just to watch me. You’ve been so good and obedient for me… you deserve a reward, you think?”

He chuckled lowly at your rapid, eager nodding, the sound rich and warm against your skin. With effortless strength, Tom lifted you from his lap and set you on the edge of the long dining table, right in front of him. His large hands gripped your thighs, spreading them wide and hooking your knees over his broad shoulders so you were completely open to him.

His dark eyes flicked up to yours, burning with hunger. “Look at you… always so wet for me.”

He leaned in slowly, pressing a deliberately soft, teasing kiss directly over your clothed clit. The warmth of his breath soaked through the thin, soaked fabric and made you jerk, hips bucking up desperately toward his mouth. He clicked his tongue in mock disapproval, the vibration sending sparks through you.

“So impatient, princess. Can’t even let me enjoy myself.”

But his own restraint snapped just as quickly. In one fluid motion, he yanked your sticky shorts down your legs and tossed them aside. Cool air kissed your exposed, glistening pussy for only a heartbeat before his hot mouth claimed you.

A broken moan tore from your throat as his warm, velvet tongue dragged slowly from your entrance up to your swollen clit, savoring every drop of your arousal. He groaned deeply, the low, guttural sound vibrating straight into your core. Tom’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment, as if your taste was the most intoxicating thing he’d ever experienced. ptk

“Mm… always so sweet, honey,” he murmured against your folds, voice thick with lust. His strong arms locked around your thighs like iron bands, pinning you down and holding you open so you couldn’t squirm away from the overwhelming pleasure.

He devoured you with filthy, open-mouthed kisses. Sucking your puffy clit between his lips, flicking it rapidly with the tip of his tongue, then plunging inside you to lap at your dripping walls. Wet, obscene sounds filled the dining room as he ate you like a starving man: messy, hungry, and completely devoted. Every moan and growl he made sent delicious vibrations through your sensitive flesh.

Your hands flew to his dark curls, fingers tightening in the silky strands as your back arched off the table. Tom didn’t relent. He pressed his face deeper between your thighs, nose brushing against your mound while his tongue worked you closer and closer to the edge.

“Cmon, baby,” Tom murmured against your slick, pulsing heat, his voice low and rough with need. “Let me feel you on my tongue. Then I’ll give you exactly what you want… but first you’re going to cum for me like a good girl.”

He dove back in without waiting for a reply.

The wet, filthy sounds of his mouth devouring your soaked pussy filled the grand dining room—obscene, rhythmic, and shameless. His tongue flicked and swirled over your swollen clit before sucking it hard between his lips, only to plunge deep inside you again, fucking you with it. Pleasure coiled tight and vicious in your core, bowing your spine sharply off the table as your thighs began to shake.

He ate you like a man starved for weeks, greedy and relentless. One long, thick finger pushed into your sopping cunt, curling instantly against that perfect spot inside you. The sudden stretch and pressure shattered you.

A broken cry tore from your throat as your orgasm crashed over you. Your walls clamped down hard around his finger, pulsing and fluttering wildly while your whole body seized and trembled. Tom groaned deeply in satisfaction, the vibration rippling through your clit as he locked his strong arms tighter around your thighs, pinning you in place so he could drink every drop of your release.

He didn’t stop. His tongue kept lapping at you through the spasms, slower now but no less hungry, savoring the fresh gush of wetness coating his chin and lips. A second finger joined the first, stretching you open as he worked you through the aftershocks, drawing out every last tremor until you were gasping and whimpering his name.

“That’s my sweet girl,” he praised, voice dark and velvet-soft against your oversensitive flesh. He pressed one last lingering kiss to your clit before lifting his head, dark eyes gleaming with possessive pride as he watched you come down. His lips and chin glistened with your arousal.

Tom rose from between your trembling thighs like a king reclaiming his throne. His mouth crashed against yours in a searing, possessive kiss, tongue pushing deep so you could taste yourself—tangy, sweet, and unmistakably filthy on his lips and tongue. You moaned into him, the flavor of your own release making your cheeks burn even hotter.

His fingers never stopped moving.

Two thick digits continued their slow, lazy thrusts inside your soaked cunt, curling gently against that sensitive spot with every stroke, stretching you open for what was coming. The wet, rhythmic sound of them pumping into your dripping heat mixed with your shared heavy breathing as he devoured your mouth.

“ Taste how sweet you are for me,” he whispered against your lips, nipping your bottom one before kissing you harder. “My pretty girl, all mine.”

You were panting by the time he pulled back, forehead resting against yours, dark curls falling messily over his brow. His fingers kept working you open, scissoring gently, a third teasing at your entrance now.

“Tom… please,” you whimpered, hips rolling desperately against his hand. “Need you. Need your cock, please—”

He let out a low, wrecked sound at your begging, something between a groan and a dark chuckle.

“Look at you,” he murmured, voice rough with arousal. “My perfect, greedy little wife. So desperate for me after I’ve already made you cum on my tongue.”

He withdrew his fingers slowly, leaving you clenching around nothing. In one smooth motion he freed himself from his trousers, his thick, heavy cock springing free hard, flushed, and leaking at the tip. The sight of it made your mouth water.

Tom gripped your thighs, spreading you wider on the dining table as he lined himself up. The blunt, swollen head of his cock pressed against your slick entrance, and even after his fingers you still felt the obscene stretch as he began to push inside.

“Tom—” you gasped, back arching sharply as he sank into you inch by thick inch. The burn was delicious, overwhelming. He filled you so completely it stole your breath, the veiny length dragging against every sensitive nerve inside you until his hips were flush against yours and you swore you could feel him in your stomach.

“That’s it… take every inch, sweetheart,” he praised, voice strained with the effort of holding still. His hand stroked your side tenderly even as his cock throbbed deep inside you. “Such a good girl for me. Always so tight… so fucking wet… made just f’me.”

He started moving deep, powerful thrusts that rocked the heavy table beneath you. Each stroke dragged against that perfect spot and bottomed out with a wet slap of skin on skin. You were whining, babbling nonsense, nails digging into his shoulders as pleasure bordered on too much.

Tom leaned down, lips brushing your ear even as his hips snapped harder, fucking you with rough, claiming strokes.

“My beautiful girl,” he whispered hotly, voice sweet and ragged with devotion. “You feel so perfect around me… like heaven. I’d burn the world down just to keep you like this—whining and full of my cock.” ptk

Another brutal thrust made you cry out, legs shaking.

“Shh, I’ve got you, princess,” he soothed, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your neck while pounding into you. “Let it out. Let me hear how good I make you feel.”

His pace grew punishing, hips slamming against yours, yet his words stayed velvet-soft and reverent between the filth.

“I love you like this,” he groaned, one hand sliding up to cradle your jaw so he could kiss you again—deep and messy. “All mine. My sweet, needy wife. Cum on my cock, baby. Want to feel you fall apart while I’m buried so deep inside you.”

Your orgasm hit you like a storm.

“Oh fuck Tom—!” The cry tore from your throat as pleasure slammed into you, white-hot and devastating. Your walls clamped down around his thick cock, pulsing violently as you gushed around him. Wet, slick sounds grew louder as your release soaked his shaft and dripped down onto the polished table beneath you. Your eyes rolled back, thighs shaking uncontrollably in his grip.

“Fuuck, that’s it—good girl,” Tom growled, voice breaking with raw lust. “Squirting all over my cock– such a perfect little wife.”

He didn’t slow down. Instead, he hooked his strong hands behind your knees and pinned your legs up and open, folding you nearly in half on the table. The new angle let him drive even deeper, the head of his cock kissing your cervix with every brutal thrust. The stretch was overwhelming, the pleasure bordering on pain, and your eyes rolled again as he fucked you through your orgasm and straight into another rising peak.

His pace turned feral, hips snapping hard and fast, the heavy table creaking beneath you with every punishing stroke. Skin slapped loudly against skin, wet and obscene. Tom’s curls clung to his forehead with sweat, his dark eyes wild with devotion and hunger as he watched you fall apart beneath him.

“Ah so fucking pretty,” he snarled against your neck, teeth grazing your pulse point. “All fucking mine.”

With a deep, guttural groan that vibrated through your joined bodies, Tom buried himself to the hilt and came hard. Thick, hot ropes of his cum flooded your spasming cunt, filling you until you felt impossibly full. He kept thrusting through it, slow and deep, pushing his release deeper inside you as some of it leaked out around his cock with every movement. ptk

Finally, he stilled, panting against your skin. After a long moment, he pulled out slowly, deliberately. A low, satisfied groan rumbled from his chest as he watched his cum drip from your wrecked, fluttering pussy—thick white trails sliding down your folds and onto the table. His thumb brushed over your swollen clit, spreading the mess possessively before he leaned down and kissed you softly.

“So beautiful like this,” he whispered, voice hoarse but tender. “Full of me. Marked. Loved.”

Tom didn’t leave you there. He grabbed a soft cloth from a nearby drawer, gently cleaning between your thighs with careful strokes, murmuring sweet praises the entire time.

“There we go, princess… easy. You did so well for me.” He kissed your forehead, then your flushed cheeks, then your lips slow and reverent. Once you were clean, he tucked himself away, lifted you effortlessly into his arms, and carried you bridal-style toward the kitchen.

You nestled against his chest, still floating and boneless, as he pressed soft kisses to the top of your head.

“You need breakfast,” he fussed quietly, voice warm with that special softness he only ever showed you. “Can’t have my wife fainting after I’ve worn her out like that. How do pancakes sound? Or eggs—whatever you want.” He set you gently on the counter near the stove, keeping one hand on your waist to steady you while he reached for ingredients. “And juice. You’re probably dehydrated after squirting all over the dining table.”

You let out a tired, happy laugh. Tom’s eyes softened further at the sound. He stepped between your dangling legs, cradling your face in both hands and kissing you deeply, sweetly this time with no rush, just pure affection. ptk

“I love you,” he murmured against your lips. “More than anything in this world. Now tell me what my good girl wants to eat so I can spoil you properly.”

In the quiet warmth of the kitchen, the evil Dark Lord. The man who strikes terror into the hearts of wizards across Britain, was nowhere to be found. Only your Tom remained: soft, devoted, and hopelessly in love in ways no one else would ever know possible… exactly where he wanted to be.

a/n : anytime I see anything about a big strong man who is only soft for you, I immediately think of Tom idk. also absolutely ridiculous the measures i’m having to go to just to try and keep my work from being stolen😾

[viperify]

oneshots | ʏᴏᴜɴɢ ᴘʀᴏꜰᴇꜱꜱᴏʀ!ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ x ꜰ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

⋆˙⟡ BEHAVE.

SUMMARY: bad girls don't get to come. they get treated the way they deserve—inspected, teased, and denied. congratulations, you successfully pissed off Professor Riddle. now, live with the consequences. ;)

WARNINGS: MATURE CONTENT. hole inspection. nasty, nasty stuff. teasing, oral f!receiving, punishment, spanking, spitting, tongue fucking, he quite literally makes a mess of our pussy, edging, fingering, clit play, he uses you as his personal cum dump, praise, Tom is FREAKY here, idk what the fuck is wrong with me, help, sos, uhhh im so feral rn im boutta combust, if u see this pls come fuck me Tom. :(

AUTHOR'S NOTE: guys im sorry this is so freaking nasty but I AM SO FUCKING horny. excuse me while I whither away in the corner of my bedroom. also, this was supposed to be a drabble.

wordcount: 2,1k

If you’re honest with yourself, you deserve this. You deserve to be spread out on his lap, facing the mirror built into his wardrobe while he lazily plays with the lace of your cotton panties. He brought you to his bedchambers a while ago, after dissolving a “late-night gathering” of students in the Slytherin common room, or, as referred to by him, a prohibited party. 

“What were you hoping to achieve with this?” he asks, circling your entrance over the soaked fabric of your panties with the tip of his finger. “Attending these kinds of parties with the tiniest clothes you could find?”

You mewl in response, rolling your hips into his touch, not bothering to pay his question any attention. Even if you wanted to, you couldn't—he's been keeping you on edge for what must be more than an hour now, and alone the softest of touches has your mind blank.

It comes to your favour that he, of course, very well knows what you were aiming for. You wanted to provoke a reaction, and that, you have. Now, it's his turn to show you just what that'll mean for you.

"You knew what you were doing. Testing me. Wanted to see just how far," he moves your panties to the side and exhales sharply at the sight of your glistening pussy on display right in front of him. "fuck— just how far I'd go, is that it?"

The truth is, you didn't exactly intend on going there that night. Sure, these parties were especially fun to attend due to the risk they brought—but after a long week you were exhausted, and getting out of bed seemed a task nearly impossible. 

Just when you’d abandoned the thought of joining your friends, you remembered a rather important detail you’d nearly forgotten. 

It's Professor Riddle who’ll be patrolling the corridors that day alongside the prefects—and he's never been kind enough to let students enjoy themselves as other professors might after the exam season. 

Now, knowing this, you could’ve warned the others in time and prevented them from getting caught—but you didn’t. 

Instead, you put on the tiniest skirt you could find in your wardrobe alongside a low-cut crop top and snuck your way along the dark corridors towards the Slytherin common room.

Looking back, it was a petty thing to do. You knew that, if he were to see you amongst the others, he'd not just let you off with a meagre detention slip the others would receive. No, you would be spending the night in his bedroom and pay for your sins in a different way.

You'd take whatever he gave you—just like you had countless times.

・・・

“Look at you. All wet, and I haven’t even touched you properly—fucking pathetic.”

You whimper at his tone—cold and detached, like he speaks with everyone else—and try your best not to grind your clit against the solid outline of his cock, which has formed beneath his fine, hand-tailored dress pants.

You shut your eyes when the memory of making a mess on one of his most treasured pairs comes to your mind—or rather, the memory of how he made you apologise for it.

One of his digits dips between your folds, trailing along the length of your slit until he reaches your entrance, but he doesn't give you what you were hoping for—he keeps it there, the very tip of his finger applying just enough pressure to make you squirm, but not to push inside your slick, wanting pussy.

"Greedy fucking girl, and so damn wet. All for me, isn't it?" he murmurs, groaning when your tight walls practically try to suck him inside, and he pumps his finger a few times into the warmth of your pussy. "Or did you walk around like this, fancying someone else?"

His finger withdraws again, and you whine in protest. "No, no, I didn't— please, it's all for you. Only you."

Tom drags you backwards by your hips, far enough that his face is a mere breath away from your flushed pussy—and then, he circles your entrance with his thumb a couple times before he leans in, the low rumble of his voice sending vibrations through your entire body.

"Good, because this hole right here is mine, and mine alone."

Before you even get to react to his words, his index and middle finger spread to form a V-shape on your pussy, coaxing your sticky folds open. Tom murmurs something under his breath, adjusting his hips beneath you just so his bulge rubs against your upper stomach—way too far from where you want him.

Then, without warning, his hot tongue swipes through the mess he's made of your pussy, gathering your arousal and shoving it, alongside his tongue, back inside your drooling hole.

A pornographic moan leaves your lips, and your pussy clenches in pleasure—Tom though tsks behind you, his flat palm connecting with the curve of your ass with a mean slap!

"So sensitive," he purrs, pressing a soft kiss to your clit. "Missed me?"

Fuck you, you want to say—but you know better than to ruin your already minimal chances for release tonight.

"So much! Please, I need you, Tommy." You squeal when his hand strikes you again, more harshly this time.

"That's not my name, darling. You can do better than that."

"I— I need you. Please, sir," you mumble, watching the first tears roll over your cheeks in the mirror in front of you. You are so fucking frustrated, aware he won't give you what you're begging for any time soon.

He chuckles lowly in response, his arms circling around the front of your upper thighs to keep you anchored to him, his mouth back on your cunt, salvaging your taste before he fucks you with just the tip of his wet tongue, drawing frustrated moans from your bite-swollen lips.

"Too bad, sweetheart. Bad girls don't get what they want, let alone the pleasure they crave."

He unbuckles his belt, discards it on the floor without much care, and frees his aching cock from the confinement of his trousers—wrapping his right hand around it tightly, pumping himself at the sight of your puffy, drooling pussy, imagining just how good it'd feel to arch your back, shove your head into the pillows, and wreck you—as he has done so often, you both have lost count.

After a bad grade? Definitely. In the broom closet? Yeppp. In his classroom with unlocked doors when everyone else was watching the Quidditch championship finale? Fuck, yes. Summer holidays? Too fucking long, he'll teach you apparition before any of his other students just to take you on the creaking bed of his London apartment.

But this, this isn't about him today. This is supposed to be a punishment, a reminder of who's in charge—and who gets to tease whom.

Tom jerks himself slowly while his lips work on your clit, his tongue playing with the slick arousal now coating everything up to your inner thighs. When he senses you trembling, moans growing louder, hips greedier with the way they chase his touch—he takes one last glance at your pretty cunt, and then, as if you weren't sensitive and aroused enough, he spits onto the sticky mess between your folds, making you gasp.

With that, he shoves you further down the bed again, closer to the mirror placed so conveniently, you are able to see your mascara stain your cheeks.

"Now, I want you to look at yourself. Watch yourself in the mirror while I use your greedy pussy for my pleasure—and don't you fucking dare look away."

You cry out when he smacks the familiar, veiny length of his cock onto your swollen folds, and you're waiting—praying—for that heavenly feeling of being stretched wide around him, but it never comes.

Instead, he uses both of his thumbs to pry your folds open once more and guides his cock along your slickness, enough to coat his entire cock with your arousal in just a few thrusts.

"Tom— sir, please— please fuck me," you sob, at both the feeling of him pleasuring himself without giving you anything in return and the way a wrecked version of yourself reflects back at you as you stare into the mirror.

But Tom—Tom doesn't pay your pleas any attention. He's too focused on the way your drooling hole clenches every time he so much as comes close to it, how fucking wet you've gotten his cock with just a few slow thrusts between your folds.

His thumb curls over his length then, helping him not to slip from the warm embrace of your cunt as he increases his pace, slick squelching sounds filling the room, the air around you heavy with the scent of your combined arousal.

"So pretty, don't you think?" he rasps, not shifting his eyes to the mirror, keeping his gaze fixed on the way your pussy tries sucking him in with every shallow bump against your entrance. "The both of you, I mean."

"Please— I want, I need— inside, inside me, please," you babble, your head dipping forwards, wiping your tears on his sheets.

"No," Tom replies, urging you up again with his fingers curled into your hair, making you study your reflection again. "Keep watching, pretty girl. Watch as I make a mess of you."

You swallow tightly, nodding. Maybe if you behave now—

His hips slam against yours from below, and soon enough groans start spilling from his lips, losing himself in the pleasant, slick warmth your cunt is providing him. Never would he have thought fucking you like this—just having your sweet wet pussy pleasure him, not slamming into your tight walls—would feel this good.

But it does, and each time his cock, slick with his precum, spit, and your own arousal glides along your slit, nearly slipping inside your pulsing hole—he thinks he might as well fuck you like this every time you're deserving of some discipline.

No more deep, rough thrusts that have you screaming his name. No—he'd keep denying you, barely missing your clit each time he thrust between your sticky folds.

The mere thought of your frustrated tears pushes him closer to the edge, and after a few more thrusts of his hips, he abruptly stops—shoving you off of him completely, having you lie flat on the mattress.

You're confused for the split second between him eagerly thrusting up your folds and feeling his weight sink down on your thighs as he snaps his hips forwards, burying the entire length of his cock in your tight, wet walls with one single thrust.

You moan in relief—but Tom, he stays there, unmoving, watching your hole stretch around his base, feeling you pulse and clench around him.

Poor girl, thinking he'll finally give you what you've been begging for.

No.

One more slight flutter of your snug walls is all it takes to make him lose his composure, let him break.

"Fuck— good fucking girl, always so good to me—" he growls, his arm wrapping around your throat as his cock twitches and he spills himself inside you, coating your walls with his seed.

Your eyes roll back at the sensation of his hot cum flooding your pussy, but the mind-numbing sensation leaves you as quickly as it washed over you when he withdraws from your oversensitive walls, leaving you aching for more as he disappears in the bathroom and reemerges a few minutes later.

You turn your head towards him when his footsteps near the bed, scrunching your brows in annoyance. "Tom? Don't tell me—"

His lips curl into a mean grin, and he scoops you up, covering the both of you with his duvet, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I told you. Bad girls don't get to come. Learn your lesson, and I'll fuck you properly next time."

You throw a pillow at him, which he catches effortlessly, and turn to the side. "I hate you."

His hand dips between your thighs underneath the covers, dragging his middle finger down the length of your slit. "Sure you do, sweetheart. But this pussy—this wet fucking pussy—she loves me more than anything."

He doesn't let you clean yourself that night—you fall asleep with two of his fingers buried deep inside your painfully aroused cunt, keeping you plugged up, slick with your combined release.

And the next time you fuck—you have him tied up on a chair, humping his cock as though it were a mere toy.

Of course you don't let him cum—he's been a bad boy, after all.

thank you so much for reading! <3 feel free to reblog and leave feedback! :3 — masterlist. | oneshots.

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[noacfslut]

almost, so close, maybe. epilogue. - matty healy

i wrote this to make up for all of the pain and misery i put you all through with part six lol mwah <3 here are the links to all the parts in case you missed them! one. | two. | three. | four. | five. | six.

epilogue: do you think i have forgotten about you?

it's been exactly a year, two months and nine days since you last saw matty. of course, out of all the bars in manhattan, he'd be at the same one as you tonight.

minors do not interact!

tags: 18+, age gap, thigh riding, oral (f receiving), choking, unprotected sex, brief d word mention, semipublic/public sex, fingers in mouth!, degradation, lowkey subby!matty, but also dom!matty lol (we love versatility!)

23365 words

You didn’t think that stopping into the bar across from your usual subway stop to blow off some steam at the end of such a stressful week would end up, well, like this. 

With the condensation from your cocktail glass dripping down your arm that was held above your head as you swayed to the intoxicating beat that was blasting through the speakers, already two and a half drinks deep in a way that was sure to have your tongue tasting bitterly of cranberry and vodka. 

You had only planned to stop in for one drink, just enough to ease the stress induced tightness of your muscles and yet the flirtatious men of New York already had you on the brink of tripling that goal. 

They kept your ego huge and your drink full. It was the perks of being young and hot in Manhattan, you suppose.

You bring the half empty glass down to your lips now, humming in contentment as the bitter liquid slides down your throat with an ease that helps you to ignore the ache in your feet from the heels you were wearing that you’d surely feel tomorrow. 

But for now you were happy and carefree as you allowed the alcohol coursing through your veins to carry you through the bass of the song that you didn’t recognize yet danced to as though you composed it yourself. 

That is, until you feel a pair of hands at your waist, a body pressed up against your own in a way that immediately rains on your parade and has you rolling your eyes before even needing to look at the guy. 

“Didn’t I already tell you to fuck off once?” You snarl, quick to push the man’s hands off of your hips and turn around so you could fix him with a fire filled glare that he’d already been at the brunt of once tonight. 

“Hey, that’s not very nice.” The blonde slurs, a loose grin spread over- shit, what was his name again? Jack? Jesse? Jonathan? Fuck, maybe it didn’t even start with a J at all. You had no clue because you didn’t care even when he was introducing himself to you. 

“And yet, you still haven’t taken the hint.” You shoot him a tight smile, one full of annoyance at the fact that he was still persisting even after you’d already shot him down half an hour ago. “I’m not interested.”

“Oh, come on.” He sighs, bringing a hand back to your waist that you raise an eyebrow at until he removes. “Just let me buy you a drink.” He begs. “You’ve let other guys do it, why won’t you let me?”

“Because those men usually introduce themselves before they slap my ass.” Your voice is sickeningly sweet yet your eyes are anything but. “Besides,” you continue, swirling your glass around in front of his face to catch his eye. “I already have a drink.”

“Well, I could buy you another.” The blonde is quick to offer, clearly not one to take no for an answer. “Yours is almost empty. You’ll be finished with it by the time we get to the bar, come on.” He takes a step closer to you, towering over you in a way that was surely meant to be enticing but only made your face scrunch in disgust instead. “Let me keep you company.”

“Thanks, but I already have plenty.” You tip your glass up to him before taking a sip of your cocktail that doesn’t go down quite as easily now that you’re filled with annoyance for the stranger that was still standing in front of you. “Are you really going to make me repeat myself again?” You nearly scoff, speaking slower to ensure he would understand you loud and clear. “I’m not interested.”

“Why not?” He has the audacity to ask and you nearly slap him for his stupidity. 

You were growing tired of this pointless back and forth with him, quick to pull out the fail-safe excuse that always worked like a charm when it came to unwanted, persistent men such as- James? Maybe? Joey? You had no clue.

“Because I have a boyfriend.” The lie slips off your tongue with practiced ease, the perfect excuse that always worked like a charm.

“Oh, yeah? How convenient.” The blonde snorts, his green eyes rolling in a way that lets you know he thinks you’re full of shit. Which, you were, but how would he know? “You’re telling me your boyfriend is okay with a line of men buying you drinks all night?” His eyes narrowed slightly. “I don’t buy it.”

“He encourages it, actually.” You nod, taking another sip of your dwindling cocktail. “It keeps his own tab down.”

“Right.” The stranger nods slowly, crossing his arms over his chest and tilting his head in a way that seemed as though he was fixing you with a challenge as he asks, “So, where is he, then?”

Shit.

“He’s sitting at the bar.” You lie with a shrug, giving the blonde a snarky smile that matches your tone of voice. “He doesn’t like to dance.”

“Okay.” The man before you nods, a smirk you wanted to slap off his face spreads as he challenges, “take me to him, I want to meet him.”

“What?” You laugh breathlessly as your stomach falls from the immediate panic his words bring, the men you usually use this excuse on normally don’t stick around long enough to know if you’re lying or not, choosing to walk away instead of argue. “No, you don’t.” Your head shakes. “He’s a very jealous man and might skin you alive for touching me.”

You attempt to scare him away but your excuses only spread the strangers smile further. 

“Oh, yes I do.” He nods. “And I think I’ll be more than okay because when we go to the bar and your boyfriend magically isn’t there, since he doesn’t even exist, you are going to let me buy you a drink.”

And while this wasn’t necessarily a bet you wanted to agree to, knowing that you in fact did not have a boyfriend waiting on you at the bar because you didn’t have one at all, you couldn’t help but allow your stubbornness to shine through and stop yourself from admitting defeat. 

“Fine.” You force the agreement out through gritted teeth, white knuckling your nearly empty cocktail glass. “It’s your funeral.”

You throw in one last effort to scare the stranger away before turning on your heels and walking towards the bar to face your inevitable demise, taking a long, winding path through the crowd of bodies in hopes to knock him off your trail and lose him before he figured you out.

Your heart starts to race the second the bar comes into view, swallowing down what was left of your Vodka Cranberry as your eyes quickly scan over the people occupying the bar stools in search of who you thought might be the most willing to play along with your lie and pretend to be your boyfriend, hard to do when you could only see the backs of their heads. 

There was a man sitting directly in the middle of the bar but he had a girl hanging off of his arm so you quickly ruled him out. Maybe you could go for the guy who was sitting three stools down, he seemed to be alone and probably wouldn’t mind- oh, he’s coughing. Okay, perfect. You didn’t want to risk getting sick so you quickly turned your attention to the other side of the bar and nearly stopped in your tracks at the sight of dark curly hair.

Your feet were carrying you over in his direction without a second thought, little time to weigh out your options any longer and third time’s the charm, right? 

I mean, this guy was sitting at the end of the bar all by himself, he wasn’t coughing and maybe your subconscious just enjoyed the familiarity of the dark curly hair.

You set your empty glass down on the bar next to the man sitting alone before turning around to look for the blonde from before and groan when you see him coming out of the crowd of people in search of you. 

You lean back against the bar and stare down the blonde you were trying to get rid of, not even giving the man sitting down next to you a second glance before asking him a question that makes him choke on his drink. 

“Hey, can you pretend to be my boyfriend real quick?” You allow the alcohol coursing through your veins to give you the courage to ask, too busy staring down the approaching blonde to even catch a glimpse of the guy's face that you were asking, sure to be met with confusion if you had. 

You didn’t even give the stranger time to respond, so dead set on proving a point to the blonde walking towards you that you threw all rationality out the window and quickly turned to grab the dark haired man's face and pull him in for a kiss that would hopefully have the blonde backing off. 

The kiss was stiff at first, surely due to the shock the stranger felt for your lips suddenly against his own, but it only takes a second for the two of you to melt into it and find a rhythm that took your breath away. 

Your fingers twitch against his cheekbones as his lips move against your own in a way that makes your legs feel a bit wobbly, unsure if it was due to the alcohol or the dark haired man’s filthy mouth that had you stumbling into him, but you couldn’t help but silently thank whatever the cause was when his hands are quick to grab your hips to hold you steady and stop you from falling over. 

The warmth from his large hands is quick to spread down to your toes and surely tint your cheeks a shade of pink that you’d hopefully be able to blame on the vodka. The color only deepens when he keeps them at your waist even after you’re stable, digging his fingertips into your hips in a way that has you gasping and he’s quick to slip his tongue in as soon as he’s invited. 

The stranger is quick to take control of the kiss after that, turning in his chair enough to get a better angle. He pulls you closer with the grip he has on your hips so he could kiss you deeper, hungrier, filthier now. 

It was hard to tell if the fever behind his lips was all for show or if he was feeling just as desperate for this as you were and you didn’t even care to know the answer because either way he was lighting you ablaze and making you feel alive for the first time in months. 

You thought you’d have to rely on the vodka coursing through your veins to make you feel so confident in kissing a man that you’d never even seen the face of, but with the way his tongue slid against your own with such passion you couldn’t help but feel comfortable because it was all so familiar. 

The feeling of stubble beneath your fingertips, the way his teeth bite at your bottom lip and tug on it in a way that pulls a groan from your throat that he happily swallows, the way his fingertips were digging into your hips in a way you could only hope would bruise, the taste of cigarettes on his tongue that explored your mouth as if he already had it all mapped out before. 

It was a taste so familiar to you, something you had become addicted to and found yourself craving in every kiss you’ve shared with a man since the last time you had swallowed it. 

And it suddenly hits you that kissing this stranger felt so familiar, so comfortable, so desperate because he wasn’t a stranger at all. 

There had only ever been one man whose kiss had you feeling knocked off your feet, who had the ability to light your body on fire just from a single touch, who always left you desperate and craving more time and time again. 

You hadn’t had him in so long that you nearly forgot just how addicting he was, your fingers twitching against his cheek once more before finally caving and sliding into his hair, you both groaned at the feeling and maybe this kiss was teetering the line of being a bit too passionate for the public eye. 

The feeling of his hands sliding around your backside finally wakes you from the daydream, feeling as though a bucket of ice water had just been poured over you as you remember who those hands belonged to, terrified to open your eyes and confirm your suspicions.

You force your lips away from his own with a racing heart and a stomach filled with dread, your eyes still shut out of fear of who you would see when you opened them, allowing yourself to stay in the bubble of bliss for just a beat longer. 

Your fingers were still tangled in his dark curly hair when you finally found the courage to open your eyes slowly and couldn’t help but feel as though your entire world had been flipped upside down when you’re met with an all too familiar set of dark brown eyes that felt like a punch to the gut. 

Matty.

Your heart drops down to the floor beneath you that you wished would open up and swallow you whole to save you from the embarrassment because of course out of every man in Manhattan, he would be the one you blindly chose. 

It had been exactly a year, two months and nine days since you saw Matty for the last time and yes, you were keeping track because as it turns out, time heals nothing when you’re that deeply in love. 

The two of you stare at one another through ragged, shaky pants and wide eyes full of shock that scan over each other's face quickly to soak in every detail missed for the past year. 

The streaks of grey in his hair that have seemed to multiply, the feeling of the ringlets wrapped around your fingertips. The stubble on his cheeks that you always loved for him to grow out, addicted to the way it felt scratching the inside of your thighs. The sight of his pink lips that were swollen due to your own, shining with your spit and enticing you in a way that had you desperate to dive in for more. 

Matty clears his throat as if he can hear every thought whirling around in your mind, giving your hips one last squeeze before slowly standing up from the barstool you found him in, sliding an arm around your waist and towering over you in a way that makes your stomach flip and has your hands falling from his hair and back at your sides. 

“Do we have a problem?” Matty’s voice holds a certain edge of intimidation that makes your throat feel rather dry, a flash of heat settling in your butterfly filled stomach at the sound of his voice after not hearing for so long. “Is he bothering you?”

And it takes you a second to realize that Matty’s talking to you, so caught up in the addictive rasp of his voice that you didn’t even realize his dark eyes were on you until you felt a pinch at your hip. 

You feel your eyebrows scrunch in confusion, so close to asking who but Matty is quick to tilt his head subtly in the direction of the blonde who you had completely forgotten about, whoops. 

“I just wanted to buy her a drink.” The blonde holds his hands up in defense, thankfully speaking for you because you weren’t positive you could have found your own voice after Matty’s tongue stole it from you. “I didn’t know she had a boyfriend, man.”

Matty’s fingers dig into your hips with a certain edge that had you feeling as though maybe he was a little jealous. 

“Did she tell you she had a boyfriend?” Matty’s voice booms with a patronizing tone that makes you feel rather dizzy, able to feel the vibrations from his voice as he spoke from how tightly Matty was holding you against his body. 

The blonde glances at you for a beat before sighing with a roll of his eyes and nodding. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t believe her.”

“You should be.” Matty nods and you can’t help but glance up at him to stare at the clench of his jaw, the dangerous glare he was fixing the blonde with, it had your stomach flipping. “Now tell her.”

Matty’s eyes fall to you and you’re quick to look away, embarrassed to have been caught staring, your heart racing with both of their attention now on you. You glance at the blonde and shoot him a tight smile, suddenly feeling bad for putting the stranger in this situation, even if he did deserve it. 

The blonde’s jaw clicks, almost as if he was having to force the apology out through gritted teeth. “I’m sorry.”

“Good.” Matty beams through an arrogant tone, pulling you impossibly closer as he threatens. “Now go find a different girl to bother and leave mine alone.”

The heat in your stomach swirls down a spiral of mine, mine, mine. 

You couldn’t help but feel dizzy to hear Matty call you his after the way things ended between the two of you a year ago, even if it was all an act, you were addicted to the way it sounded falling from his lips still swollen from your own. 

The blonde doesn’t linger long after that, walking away with a hefty huff and roll of his green eyes before disappearing into the sea of bodies and leaving you and Matty all alone, still pressed together and panting from the kiss your heart continues to race from. 

Matty waits until he’s positive the guy is gone for good before softly rubbing his hand that was still at your waist, focusing all his attention on you in a way that has you desperate for the ground to open up and swallow you whole before you die from embarrassment at the whole thing. 

You hadn’t seen Matty in over a year and you somehow ended up mauling his face before even saying hello first. 

“Are you okay?” Matty’s voice is full of a genuine concern that makes your knees weak, thankful that he was still holding onto you out of fear you might have fallen to the floor if not. “Did he hurt you?” His tone was more rushed, more angry. “I’m sure he didn’t make it far, I can still beat his ass if you nee-“

“I’m so fucking sorry.” You’re quick to rush out, shaking your head through eyes that brimmed with tears as the panic for the situation you threw yourself in bubbles out of you. “I am so fucking sorry for doing that, I-I had no idea that it was you when I kissed you, or I-I-“ You hesitate to find the right words through the million swimming around in your brain right. “Fuck, why did I do that? I-I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Matty nods, rubbing your hipbone in a reassuring way that only pulls a tear from your eye. “I-I’m not upset, it’s fine.”

“It’s not.” You argue, pushing his chest softly to put some distance between the two of you despite how much you missed his warmth already. “I would have never done that if I knew it was you.” You explain through a racing heart that rings in your ears, bringing your hands up to your head and pulling your hair softly out of frustration for the way you so desperately wanted to dive in for more. “I-I just went after the first guy that I saw and I-“

“Ouch.” Matty holds his chest in faux offense, the corners of his mouth that shine with reminders of your glittery gloss twitches softly. “You wound me.”

And you can’t help but laugh softly at his antics, quick to realize that it was his goal when his mouth spreads into a soft smile at the sound.

“I didn’t mean it like that, I just-“ You hesitate, desperate to find the words to convey all the thoughts whirling around your mind and sighing when none of them properly explain how you felt now standing in front of him. “I’m really sorry, okay?”

“I know.” Matty nods, his eyes gleaming at you in a way that has you swallowing down the butterflies that threaten to fly out. “I promise you that it’s okay, I’m not upset with you.” He assures and you suddenly felt as though you could breathe a little better now. “Though, I don’t know if I like how comfortable you are kissing some bloke before looking at him.”

He pulls another laugh from you and his eyes shine as if he’d won some reward as the sound washes over him. 

“Yeah, well, desperate measures.” You shrug, wiping away a stray tear that fell from the force of your laughter, happy to know that your eyes were dried up already and that you could actually look at the man standing before you without feeling like dying. Your cheeks blush as soft as the smile you shoot at him. “Thank you for uh- for doing that.” You nod, quick to tack on. “For pretending to be my boyfriend.”

“Yeah, ‘course.” Matty smiles back just as easily. “Anytime.”

And you couldn’t help the way your cheeks flush at the implication, suddenly feeling as though you were under a spotlight with the way his dark eyes roamed over your frame shamelessly, seeming to drink in every inch as if to refresh his fading memory. 

You shift on your feet, crossing your arms over your chest in an attempt to hide your body, suddenly feeling insecure now that his dark eyes were glued to it. 

You clear your throat from the nerves that settled there since the two of you were left alone. The sound brings Matty’s attention back up to your face, his dark eyes twinkle with a certain gleam that has your heart fluttering after not seeing it for a year. 

It makes you desperate to fill the silence in the air, desperate to distract yourself from the way he was staring you down as if he wanted to eat you alive because you knew if you didn’t break up some of the tension between the two of you, you’d let him.

“It was kinda crazy for me to just kiss a stranger like that, huh?” You grimace, hugging your arms tighter around yourself as you shift your weight between your feet once more. “I guess I didn’t have to make out with a guy just to prove he was my boyfriend, a hug probably would’ve worked.” Matty snorts at your word vomit that was so desperate to fill the void that you were about to deliver an awful joke. “I hope I didn’t just make you cheat on another girl.”

You cringe as soon as the joke falls off your tongue, nearly ready to pull up the floorboards yourself so you could crawl beneath them and hide when Matty’s eyes widen as your words register to him, an apology already on the tip of your tongue but it’s quickly drowned out by the sound of his laughter booming over the loud music of the bar. 

“No.” Matty shakes his head through a laugh, his shoulders with it. “I don’t have a girlfriend.” He confirms and air finally reaches down to your lungs. “Still single.”

Still. 

You couldn’t help but linger on what that word implied, that he hadn’t been with anyone since, you could only hope. 

“Good.” You nod and then quickly shake your head when you realize how that might come across, you didn’t want him to figure you out. “I-I mean, not good because I care or anything.” You laugh softly, the tremor of nerves clear in your tone. “Just good that you’re single because I wouldn’t want to make you-” You hesitate, unable to say the word that was on the tip of your tongue. “You know.” You settle on with a racing heart, tacking on a final. “Again.”

“Yeah.” Matty laughs softly, nodding. “I got it.” 

You cringe at yourself once more because my god, you were just making things painfully awkward, weren't you? 

The silence lingers between the two of you until you feel nauseous, desperate to find something to say and nearly about to ask him about the weather but Matty speaks up instead, clearing his throat. “So, that guy was being a dick, then?”

“Majorly, yeah.” You scoff, nodding your head softly. “Which sucks because he was actually kinda cute.” You pout softly, too in your own world to notice the way Matty’s jaw ticks. “But he slapped my ass before even introducing himself.” Your face twists in disgust as you recall. “I mean, who does that? What an asshole. Men are disgusting.” 

You snarl with a roll of your eyes that end up on Matty and you’re quick to grimace when you realize that maybe he wasn’t the best person to be ranting to about men and their disgusting tendencies. 

“Sorry, I’m drunk.” You flush, shaking your head softly as you correct yourself. “Tispy, not drunk.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to lay him out really quick?” Matty offers once more, holding his thumb over his shoulder with an angry flare of his nostrils. “It won’t take long, one hit will probably do him in.” 

“No.” You laugh softly at his outward display of jealousy, can’t help the way it makes your spine tingle. “No, I don’t, but thanks for offering.” 

You shift on your feet under his watchful eye and hug yourself tighter as you give him a smile. 

“And thank you again for uh- for doing that for me, you really saved me there.” Matty gives you a smile in return, nodding his head once. “Sorry that I- you know.” You wave your hands softly as you try to find the words to convey what you were trying to say, delivering the apology through a huff of laughter. “Sorry that I mauled your face without your permission.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that.” Matty is quick to wave you off, a playful gleam in his eye as he shrugs and smiles easily. “It’s not like it was a punishment for me or anything.”

You curse the way your cheeks flush at his flirtatious tendencies, curse how quickly you seem to fall back under his spell even after not seeing him for a year, curse how tempting the remnants of your glittery lip gloss that shined against his lips were. 

The way the sparkles reflected in the light and practically called out to you had you ready to risk it all and dive back into him for more. 

You hated that even after all this time, you still craved him. That all he would have to do is wrap his arm back around your waist and you’d be caving because you wanted to, because you missed him. But you couldn't have him, you shouldn’t, even though you desperately wanted to. 

You needed to get out of here before he saw that desire written all over your face. 

“Right, well…” You trail off, clearing your throat and wiping your shaky, sweaty palms over your rather short skirt before shooting him a tight smile. “I-I should go um- yeah, I should leave.” You nod, more to yourself than anything. “Thanks again and uh- sorry again.” You laugh softly, already taking a step back from the older man. “It was- It was good to see you, but I-I should-” You grimace, nearly tripping over your own two feet as you take another step back. “Bye.”

You shoot him one last tight smile before quickly turning on your heels and ready to make a b-line straight to the front door of the bar but you barely get one step away from him before you feel a hand wrapping around your wrist, the contact jolting through your arm as he effectively stops you from walking away from him, your heart drops down to the floor beneath you. Fuck.

“Wait.” The word falls breathless off Matty’s tongue, spoken in desperation before he even had thought of an excuse to keep you there, only focused on making you stay because he wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye to you yet. “Let me buy you a drink.”

You turn around to face him again and hate the way your heart skips a beat at the panic behind his eyes, hate to think about how painful watching you walk away was for him as it was for you to try and do it. 

“I-I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You dismiss him weakly, hopeful that he couldn’t feel the pound of your racing heartbeat in his fingertips still wrapped around your wrist. “I really should get going.”

“Please, it’s the least I can do.” Matty begs and your heart picks up into a pace he would surely feel as he rubs his thumb over your wrist. “One drink, please.” His voice is full of desperation to match the dark eyes that scan over your face, squeezing your wrist softly now as he admits. “I-I want you to stay.” 

Your chest aches as his words wash over you, swallowing down a heart shaped lump in your throat as his dark eyes stare into your own, wide and pleading as he awaits your decision. 

And while you knew it would be a mistake to stay, you knew that being around him would only wash away all that progress you’ve made towards healing this past year, it didn’t matter because you weren’t ready to say goodbye to him either. 

Not yet. 

Maybe tonight would finally give you closure. 

“Okay.” You cave because of course you do, pulling your wrist from his hold before the heat from his hand burns you alive. You stare into his dark eyes with a raised brow, holding up one finger to further prove your point. “One drink.”

“One drink.” Matty repeats through a smile and you could practically see his shoulders relax through relief that you had agreed, even if it was against your better judgment. 

Matty steps to the side and pulls out the empty barstool next to his own that you had found him in, motioning for you to sit down and you couldn’t help but flush at the gesture, sliding into the barstool he had pulled out for you and fighting to ignore the way his knee brushes against your thigh as he sits down next to you. 

You watch Matty flag down the bartender, the rosy color of your cheeks deepening when he takes the liberty of ordering for you. 

“Hey, can I get another round of Jack and Coke for myself?” Your face twists in disgust at his order, remembering the night you first met him and took a sip of his drink and declared it horrendous. “And I think my girl will probably want a Vodka Cranberry. With an extra lime on the side, right?”

You nearly choke on your spit at his choice of wording, coughing through bright red cheeks as Matty watches you with curious eyes that widen when he realizes what just slipped out of his mouth. 

“Fuck, I-I’m sorry.” Matty is quick to stutter through an apology, his own cheeks tinted pink as the bartender stares at the two of you with a raised brow. “Forgot that I don’t have to pretend to be your boyfriend anymore.”

Matty laughs but it’s breathless and feels forced, his hand coming around to the back of his neck to scratch at it awkwardly and you’re quick to wave off the mistake that you’re pretty positive wasn’t due to the excuse he provided. 

“I-It’s okay.” You smile, pretending as though being referred to as his girl didn’t have butterflies swirling through your veins and settling in your stomach. You turn your attention to the bartender who was waiting impatiently, tapping his fingers against the bar top. “Yeah, Vodka Cran’s good.”

The bartender nods once before turning away and leaving the two of you alone yet again, your heart racing as you turn back to face the older man who looked to still be kicking himself over his minor slip up and you were desperate to ease some of his nerves. 

“I’m surprised you still remember my drink order.” You say casually, leaning one arm on the bar as you turn your body to face Matty more directly.

“I think I’ve paid for enough of them to have it memorized by now.” Matty reminds and you can’t help but flush at the memory of going out for drinks after work with your coworkers and your drinks always ending up on Matty’s tab somehow. “Not like I could forget it in, what- the year it’s been since I’ve seen you?”

Your heart drops at the mention. 

“A year, yeah.” You confirm. And two months and nine days, you think to yourself. 

“Wow, has it really been that long?” Matty’s face scrunches and your chest aches at the thought of him not keeping a tally of the days like you had. You nod with a tight smile and Matty exhales a deep huff of air, shaking his head slowly. “Feels like just yesterday.”

And fuck, you wish the bartender would make your drink a little faster, needing to take a big gulp as soon as possible because he was right. The memory of you screaming at Matty, punching his chest until he left and crying your eyes out all alone for hours on end on your living room floor burned so vividly in your mind that it did feel like it just happened yesterday.

“Yeah, time flies.” You sigh, a sad edge to your tone that Matty is quick to pick up on and is desperate to erase, resting his arm against the bar and turning his body towards you to mirror the position you were facing him with. 

“Something about you is different.” He comments off-handedly, his dark eyes scanning over your features to try and pinpoint exactly what it was that had changed since the last time he saw you. Probably hard to do considering the last memory he had of you, you were red eyed and tear stained. 

His dark eyes squint as his head tilts, studying you in a way that has you feeling shy. “Did you cut your hair?”

Wow, you didn’t think he would notice. The change was so microscopic that most of your close friends hadn’t even picked up on it. 

“Yeah, I uh- I wanted a change after,” You hesitate, breaking eye contact for a second to mutter. “everything.” 

And you don’t miss the way Matty clears his throat and shifts in his chair at the mention. 

“I only cut a few inches, I’m too pussy to chop it all off.” You joke and Matty barks out a laugh that you can’t help but giggle at, tacking on more just to hear the sound again. “I actually had bangs at one point but they grew out fast and thank god because they did not suit me.”

Matty laughs through a scoff, shaking his head as if he was disagreeing with the thought that anything could not suit you. 

“Well, it looks good.” Matty compliments your hair with an easy smile, his dark eyes running over your locks before betraying him and roaming over your body next, then your face before delivering a more pointed compliment. “You look good.”

And the bartender could not have had better timing, thankful that he had returned to slide your drinks over to the two of you so it’d distract from the deep flush on your cheeks from the compliment Matty fixed you with, unable to stop yourself from preening as you sit up a little straighter and cheers your glass against his own. 

Matty shoots you a smile over the rim of his glass before taking a sip, an action that you mirrored and did little to erase the pink tint on your cheeks. 

Oh well, at least you could blame it on the alcohol now. 

“So,” Matty swallows down his Jack and Coke, grimacing a little from the strong alcoholic taste as he sets his glass down on the bar between the two of your elbows that leaned against it. “how have you been?”

“Fine.” You sigh, taking one more sip of your Vodka Cranberry before setting it back down on the bar. “I’ve been good, yeah.”

“Oh, come on.” Matty groans, rolling his dark eyes. “That’s the best you could come up with? Fine.” He raises his voice in a way to mock your own and your mouth drops in faux offense at his antics. “Maybe we should talk about the upcoming weather too. Did you know it’s supposed to rain on Tuesday? Make sure you bring your umbrella.”

“You are such a dick.” You scoff through a laugh, shaking your head softly as you mindlessly fall into a comfortable banter with him even after all your time apart. “You’re the one who asked.”

“Right, that’s my fault, my bad.” He holds his hands up in defense and shoots you a smile that has your eyes surely gleaming at him. “I should have asked something better, like, what’s a girl like you doing out alone on a Friday night?”

Your heart flutters at the implication as you shrug. “I had a long, stressful week.”

Matty stares at you for a beat, leaning in softly as if he was waiting for you to elaborate further and sighing dramatically when you just furrow your brows at him in response. 

“You know, I’m starting to think I’d get more interesting answers if I just went and talked to the wall instead.” Matty teases and you can’t help but giggle. 

“Such a dick.” You repeat with more emphasis this time, rolling your eyes playfully. “My god, you haven’t changed at all.” 

You laugh softly, rolling your eyes once more when Matty continues to stare at you expectantly, wanting a better answer than you had already provided. 

“Fine, I had a long, stressful week and I wanted an overpriced drink to make me feel better about it.” You explain, picking up your cocktail and tipping the glass in his direction with a playful gleam in your eye as you tease. “And it tastes so much better when I don’t have to pay for it.”

Matty shoots you a glare that doesn’t have any real heat behind it, his eyes twinkling as he watches you take a pointed sip of your Vodka Cranberry and snorting when you dramatically sigh in contentment after swallowing it down. 

“Okay, your turn.” You decide, placing your glass back down on the bar with a little too much force, a droplet of the crimson liquid splashes onto your hand that you wipe on your thigh as you cross one leg over the other. 

Matty’s eyes can’t help but fall down to the show, he was a simple man after all. 

“Let’s hear you come up with a better answer, hm?” Your head tilts to the side as you lean your chin against your hand. “What’s a man like you doing out alone on a Friday night?”

Matty clears his throat, shifting in his barstool and taking a rather large gulp of his cocktail as he stews on his answer for a beat, the corners of his mouth twitching up into a smirk as he delivers it.

“I had a long, stressful week.” He shrugs, already laughing before you could even push his arm out of retaliation. 

“I hate you.” You groan through a shared laugh, the three words bulletless as they wash over him. Your head shakes softly as you pick up your glass and take another sip and grimace slightly at the strong vodka flavor, you make a mental note to stir it before the next one. “You’re an ass.”

“Oh, I thought I was a dick?” Matty raises a thick eyebrow, smirking at you over the rim of his glass. 

“You are.” You confirm, rolling your eyes playfully as you stir the tiny black straw around in your glass in hopes that it’d made the next sip a little less bitter. “So,” You draw out, testing out your method and smiling when the crimson liquid goes down easier this time around. “how has the office been?”

It’s a question you couldn’t help but ask, not having stepped foot in the building since you ran out of it crying the day Farrah stopped by, sending your resignation letter over email and not returning any of Thomas’ calls afterwards. 

You couldn't stomach the thought of going back in there knowing how everyone would look at you, how they would whisper behind your back, you didn’t know how Matty put up with it everyday.

“Fine, I guess.” Matty shrugs, half hearted. “Not as much fun when I’m actually working.”

You couldn’t help but snort, unable to imagine a world in which Matty Healy ever actually got any work done. 

Maybe he had changed more than you realized. 

“Oh, c’mon.” Your eyes roll dramatically. “You and I both know that you still spend your days playing solitaire and seeing how far away you can toss a crumpled up piece of paper into your trash can.” 

Matty laughs into his glass before taking a sip, barely swallowing the dark liquid down before defending himself. 

“Hey, when I made it into my bin from across the hall while sitting at your desk, that was pretty impressive.” He argues and you couldn’t help but giggle as the memory of him interrupting your conference call to boot you out of your office chair so he could sit in it and shoot the paper through the two doorways and into his trash can replays in your mind. “You have to give me that.”

You cover your mouth with your hand to hide the laughter that pours out of you at the memory of how he had jumped out of your chair to cheer when the paper shot perfectly into his bin from so far away, how he picked you up and twirled you around as if he’d just won a gold olympic medal or something. 

“Okay, fine.” You concede, holding your hands up as if you were raising a white flag. “That was pretty impressive.” And Matty smiles brightly at your confession. “But you got lucky.”

“Luck, my ass.” Matty scoffs as if you’ve actually offended him. “That was nothing but pure skill.”

“Yeah, okay.” You giggle, rolling your eyes playfully as you take another sip of your cocktail to hide the smile that nearly breaks your face. “I’m surprised Thomas hasn’t figured you out yet now that I’m not there to cover for you.”

Matty chuckles before clearing his throat, swirling his cocktail around in his glass as he shifts in his barstool. 

“Thomas quit.” He informs and your mouth is quick to drop open in shock, sure that your old boss would have retired there and before you can even ask who took his place, Matty is raising his glass out towards you. “I uh- I’m actually the boss now.”

Your mouth drops open further, you couldn’t help yourself. 

“No fucking way?” You laugh softly, clinking your glass against his own to celebrate at the news when Matty nods in response. “Wow, so they just let anyone apply, huh?”

“Alright.” Matty groans, rolling his dark eyes as if he was already expecting the tease to come from you. “I guess they were impressed with my high score on solitaire and impeccable aim.”

Matty knocks his knee against your own and oh, you suddenly felt quite parched. 

“Thomas kinda fell apart without you there to keep his head on straight.” Matty explains and you can’t help the wave of guilt that washes over you, feeling as though you were responsible for ruining more than just one life. “I was sorta doing his job for him most of the time anyways, so when he quit, I ended up being next in line.” He shrugs, taking a sip of his cocktail and smirking when he swallows. “Pissed Gary right off, though, I’ll tell you. Kept bitching and moaning about how twenty years at the company should earn him the title.”

“Oh, fuck Gary, he was arguably the laziest one up there.” You groan, rolling your eyes at the image of an elderly man who never failed to irritate you when he was around. “He always gave me the creeps. You know, I caught him staring at my ass one day when I was getting a soda out of the vending machine, I never wanted to slap him so badly.”

“See, now I don’t feel so guilty about firing him.” Matty shrugs with a smile. “Guy was a prick, he deserved it.”

“You’re firing people?” Your brow raises in surprise. “Maybe you have changed.”

“Oh, I haven’t changed.” Matty scoffs, rolling his dark eyes playfully before fixing you with a pointed look that has your throat feeling rather dry. “You of all people should know how relentless I can be.” 

And oh, that has your stomach flipping. You swallow thickly as the memories come rushing back to you. 

Flashbacks of Matty’s hand wrapped around your neck, tears rolling down your cheeks, your throat sore from begging and pleading for him to take mercy on you and finally let you cum after denying you of it until you were aching. 

It was a state of mind that he shouldn’t have been able to put you in so easily while laid out on his desk but a position you somehow found yourself in several times throughout your ten months of sneaking around. 

Your thighs clench now as the memories burn through you and the action doesn’t go unnoticed by the older man. 

Matty smirks over the rim of his glass and suddenly it feels rather hot in here, you’re quick to down a gulp of your Vodka Cranberry, sneaking an ice cube in your mouth in hopes it would cool down some of the fire that settled in your stomach. 

“Well, I guess I’m glad I got out of there when I did.” You shrug through a slurred tone as the ice melts on your tongue, leaning your chin on your palm as you tease. “I’m so used to having Thomas wrapped around my finger that I probably wouldn’t have lasted too long under you.”

And yeah, okay, maybe you were bordering the line of flirting, but you couldn’t help it. 

You just wanted to see him squirm a little too, sure that he was having flashbacks of his own as you watched him clear his throat and take a rather large gulp of his cocktail. 

“Nah, you would’ve loved to have me as your boss.” Matty argues, bringing his foot up to come rest on the bar of your stool, far away enough from your own to be deemed innocent but close enough for you to feel the heat radiating. “I’d be worse than Thomas, you would’ve gotten away with everything.”

You blush, you can’t help it, knowing that what Matty had said was true. 

Matty smirks at you over the rim of his glass and your thighs clench instinctively at the sight, desperate to get another ice cube in your mouth in hopes that this one would combat the heat behind his gaze. 

“Oh, I’m sure HR would’ve loved that.” You tease to break up some of the tension, needing the air to breathe before you end up doing something stupid like grabbing his hand and pulling him into the bathroom. “But at least you’ve still got Maeve to show favoritism to in my absence.”

You could barely get the sentence out without giggling, probably would’ve been able to hold your straight face a little longer if Matty hadn’t shot you a glare full of annoyance for bringing up the girl you both knew he couldn’t stand. 

You knew you had achieved your goal of breaking up the tension when Matty scoffs and rolls his eyes. 

“Maeve.” Her name falls off his tongue in a face twisted with disgust, taking a gulp of his Jack and Coke as if he needed something to help wash it down. “She’s in your office now, by the way. I don’t like it.” His head shakes, your heart flutters. “Thomas promoted her before he quit and thank god I got his job so I don’t have to work across from her everyday.”

“Oh c'mon." You giggle. “She’s not that bad.”

Matty shoots you a pointed look. 

“She’s worse now that I’m single.” Matty grumbles and your heart skips a beat at the mention of his relationship status yet again, curious to know if it was casual or if he was trying to remind you that you could cross the line anytime you wanted. “Constantly kissing my ass by making my coffee or buying me a donut on her way in every morning.” His dark eyes roll. “And it’s like, I don’t know if she’s trying to get me to promote her or fuck her.”

You can’t help the way your fingers tighten over your glass at the idea of Matty with another girl, fighting to not sound overly bitter with jealousy as you say, “I mean, considering you just told me Thomas promoted her semi-recently, I’m going to go out on a limb and say that she’s definitely trying to fuck you, yeah.”

Matty groans, rubbing his hand over his face and you can’t help but giggle, maybe you had nothing to worry about after all. 

“Well, if she’s trying to get me to fuck her, she could at least buy me a donut that’s more interesting than fucking glazed.” Matty grumbles and you’re quick to cover your mouth to muffle the laugh that barks out of you. “I mean, a cream filled one to drop a hint or something, maybe.”

“Ew? Fuck, that’s really gross.” You cringe through laughter, shaking your head. “I’m never going to be able to eat a donut again.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I can’t stomach them anymore either.” Matty snorts, adjusting in his seat and scooting his foot a little closer to your own on the bar at the bottom of your stool. “I’m so sick of walking into my office and seeing a donut on my desk.”

“Oh, please.” You draw out dramatically and roll your eyes just as much, staring at him over the rim of your glass before taking a sip. “You know you love the attention.”

Matty’s dark eyes are quick to fall to the way you lick the remainder of the crimson liquid off your lips, then down to your neck before just drinking in the expanse of your frame shamelessly, clearly feeling the effects of the alcohol as his foot slides to rest against your own at the bottom of your stool. 

“Not when it’s coming from her.” Matty says pointedly and your heart races at the implication, swallowing thickly at the feeling of his knee grazing up against your own, easier to do now that his foot was touching yours and his leg was just a millimeter away.

And oh, suddenly it felt hot in here all over again, the air thick between the two of you and hard to breathe in. 

You shift in your barstool and subtly clench your thighs together in a way that maybe wasn’t so subtle considering Matty’s eyes are quick to fall to the show and okay, you needed to say something fast before he did something stupid that you wouldn’t stop him from. 

“But even if it’s annoying at times, it’s still nice to have people kissing your ass, right?” Your voice is a little unsteady and you’re quick to clear your throat before he figures you out, tilting your head to the side as you tease. “You haven’t let all that power go to your head, have you?”

Matty laughs easily and suddenly you can breathe again. 

“Oh, absolutely, I have, yeah.” Matty nods, not even able to keep a straight face as he dramatically exaggerates. “I make people feed me grapes while I answer emails and rub my feet when I’m on conference calls, it’s wonderful.”

“You’re an idiot.” You snort, shaking your head softly through a laugh as you swallow down your dwindling drink that you should be savoring since you only promised him one. “You know, Maeve would actually do those things for you if you asked.”

“Oh, believe me, I know.” Matty snorts, rolling his eyes sarcastically. 

He takes a rather large gulp of his Jack and Coke that makes his Adam's apple bob in an enticing way that has you reaching for your own cocktail to distract yourself. 

“Alright, alright, enough about me,” He waves, placing his glass back down on the bar and knocking his knee against your own, leaving it to linger there as he leans his head on his hand and shoots you a smile. “what have you been up to this past year?”

The feeling of his jeans rubbing against your bare legs has you feeling rather dizzy, the heat radiating off of him practically burning you alive in a way that has you desperate to put out the flames in your stomach with your cocktail, quick to down what was left of your Vodka Cranberry. 

“I actually went back to school,” You nod, placing your empty glass down on the bar and unable to fight the smile from breaking out on your face when you tack on, “Fashion school.” And Matty’s mouth is quick to drop open in a way that makes you giggle and shrug. “I got into FIT.” 

“No shit.” His dark eyes were wide and shining at you in a way that makes your heart skip a beat. “You’re serious?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You nod, laughing softly as you press your own knee harder against Matty’s in a way that immediately makes him smile as you tease. “Turns out all I had to do was apply.”

Matty laughs easily at that, sure that he was reminiscing on the conversation the two of you shared about The Fashion Institute of Technology in his kitchen over a bottle of wine and you were nearly counting down the seconds until he said ‘I told you so.’

“I’m proud of you.” He says instead and your chest aches as the sentiment washes over you, making you wish that you still had some of your cocktail left to wash down the butterflies that threaten to spill from your throat. “See,” He emphasizes the word by pressing his leg harder against your own. “I knew they’d want you, they’d be fucking mad not to.” 

And oh, that sentiment doesn’t settle as nicely as the first, this one is bitter and bites at your chest in a way that has you reliving the entire conversation you and Matty had shared in his kitchen that night, his words now are too similar to the ones he said to you over a year ago for you to ignore.

All that laughter and flirtatious knocking of knees had you forgetting why it had been so long since you’d seen him in the first place, why you had been avoiding him for over a year and now that you were faced with the reminder, you couldn’t help but wish you had some of your Vodka Cranberry left to numb some of the pain.

“Another round?” The bartender’s voice pulls you from the internal spiral, spawning as if he could hear you calling for him in your mind, leaning two hands against the bar as he stares at the two of you expectantly.

Your response of, “No, I’m okay.” mixes in harmony with Matty’s “Yeah, that’d be great.” and the two of you stare at one another in disbelief while the bartender just watches it all with a smirk. 

“I should go.” And even as the words fall from your tongue, the idea of following through with them pains your chest because you didn’t want to leave, despite knowing that you should. “I-It’s getting late, I should head home.”

“It’s not that late.” Matty’s dark eyes roll, pressing his leg harder against your own in a way that makes your heart race as the corners of his mouth twitch into a teasing smile. “You’re younger than I am, you can’t let me stay out later than you do, that’s just embarrassing.”

“Matty…” You shoot him a pointed look that he smiles easily at. “We made a deal, one drink.”

“But deals are meant to be broken.” Matty argues and you can’t help the bitter taste of the irony here. “C’mon, let me buy you another drink, we have to celebrate.” He begs, bringing his other foot to the bottom of your barstool as if he was trying to trap you in and stop you from leaving even if you wanted to. “You deserve it, Miss FIT.”

You hate the way your heart flutters and cheeks flush at his flirtatious tone, hate the way that your body seemed to be glued to the barstool as you stare into his dark eyes that were all too tempting, hate the way that even after a year of absence that he still held enough power over you to make you cave with a snap of his fingers. 

“Fine.” You groan, rolling your eyes more out of annoyance with yourself rather than the older man who was cheering at your defeat. “One more drink, I mean it this time.”

“Yes ma’am.” Matty nods and your stomach swirls with heat as he turns his head towards the bartender, his neck flexing in a delicious way as he orders another round for the two of you, happy that his attention was elsewhere so you could clench your thighs together without the threat of him noticing. Matty turns back to face you with a newfound gleam in his eye. “So, fashion school?”

“Fashion school.” You nod, unable to keep the smile off of your face because it all still felt so surreal. “Doesn’t that sound so crazy?”

“Well, no.” Matty argues, sliding his other foot more onto your bar stool so that both of his feet were settled against your own. “Not to me, at least. I knew you’d get in.” He shrugs and you flush at his certainty, he was the first person you’ve told the news to who wasn't shocked or wary about your new career path. “So, how is it going? Is it everything you hoped it’d be?”

“It’s going great, actually, yeah.” You nod and try not to flush deeper as Matty’s smile grows at the news. “It was a hard adjustment at first, it’s definitely a completely different world than the spreadsheets and pencil skirts that I was used to,” Matty laughs softly and you follow in his footsteps. “But I’m enjoying it, yeah. I’m happy.”

“Good.” Matty smiles and you wish the bartender would hurry up with your drink before you throw all caution to the wind and kiss him again. “I’m happy for you, you deserve it.”

You can’t help the smile that nearly splits your face into two, quick to tilt your head down in an attempt to hide your pink cheeks as you tug on a loose string sticking out of the hem of your skirt. “Thanks.”

You couldn’t be more thankful for the bartender who shows up at the perfect time yet again, sliding your drinks over the bar and distracting Matty from the swarm of butterflies that were surely flying around your head right now, happy to have something to blame your pink cheeks on as you grab the glass and quickly tip it back so fast that it dribbles down your chin.

“Fuck.” You mumble, quick to place the glass back on the bar and wipe your chin softly so you wouldn’t disrupt your makeup in the process, not even thinking twice before licking the crimson liquid off of your fingers before it dripped down to your arm. 

You were completely unaware of how filthy you might look until Matty clears his throat and shifts in his barstool across from you, sending both of his knees to press against your own in a way that makes your stomach flip, flushing as you wipe the remainder of the mess on your bare thigh and nearly explode when his dark eyes shamelessly fall to the show.

You could practically see it written all over his face how desperately he wanted to lean in and lick the droplets off of your thigh and if you stare at the way his long fingers were gripping his own glass tighter now any longer, you’d spread your legs right here to give him the room to do so. 

You needed a distraction, fast, desperately searching for anything you could say to disrupt the tension you had created before you ended up caving into the heat from his gaze that was nearly burning you alive. 

Your eyes trail from his hand to his arm and you nearly cheer when you notice a new topic of conversation. 

“That’s new.” You reach out to touch the patch of dark ink that you had never seen on his arm before, only thickening the air between the two of you when your hand makes contact with his skin, manicured nails that graze against his tattoo in a way that raises goosebumps in their path. “When did you get this done?”

“Few months ago.” Matty’s voice is deeper now, more rough, he’s quick to clear his throat and shift in his barstool before providing a deeper explanation for the tattoo that you trace lightly before forcing your hand away. “I went out with George to celebrate St. Patrick's Day and we got so shitfaced off of Irish Car Bomb’s that we apparently decided it’d be a good idea to commemorate the holiday with a tattoo.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you repeat, “Apparently?”

“Well, I don’t quite remember it happening.” Matty explains and you can’t help but laugh a little louder now, covering your mouth with your hand as you stare at the clover tattooed on Matty’s arm. “I didn’t even notice it until a few days later. Turns out, George and I are matching.”

“Oh my god, shut up.” You gasp and Matty just nods, sending you into a fit of laughter that he groans at. “Aw, that’s so cute, you have a matching tattoo with your best friend.” You tease and Matty shoots you a glare that you giggle at, leaning in closer to get a better look at the tattoo on his arm, your eyebrows furrowing further when you notice a small detail that you hoped the older man already had. “You do know that this clover has five leaves and not four, right?”

“Oh, I’m aware, yes.” Matty nods and you stifle a laugh. “Apparently our tattoo artist was as drunk as we were.” He groans, taking a sip of his Jack and Coke, swallowing quickly so he could tack on more. “And the worst part is that I don’t even know what tattoo shop we went to so I can’t even leave them a poor review for fucking up something as simple as a four leaf clover.”

“Hey, don’t blame the tattoo artist, maybe this is what you two asked for?” You shrug and Matty just glares harder in response. “Oh, c’mon, it’s not that bad.” You insist. “At least you have a funny story to tell, it’s a good ice breaker.” 

You give the clover one last glance before sitting up straighter in your barstool, rolling your eyes when you see Matty still glaring at you over the rim of his glass. 

“Alright.” You sigh. “Would it make you feel any better if I showed you my drunken tattoo?”

Matty nearly chokes on his drink.

“You have a tattoo?” His dark eyes wide.

“Well, don’t sound so shocked.” You tease, taking a sip of your Vodka Cranberry. 

“Since when?” His thick eyebrows furrow. “How have I never seen it?”

You can’t help the way your stomach flips at the reminder that Matty has seen every inch of your body, so many times that he knew he would have seen the ink on your body if you had any.

“Since Valentine’s day.” You sigh, already cringing at yourself before you could even explain. “I went out with a group of my friends to a bar and I met a tattoo artist there who told me that if I flashed him my tits, he’d take us all back to his shop and give everyone a free tattoo.” You shrug. “Super strong come on, but he was cute, I guess.”

“And did you say yes?” Matty is quick to ask, a fiery, jealous undertone to his voice. 

“I mean, I have the tattoo, don’t I?” You tease through a giggle and Matty doesn’t mirror it this time, his long fingers white knuckling his own glass as his eyes trail over your body, surely in search for the missing ink.

“Where?” He asks through a gruff tone as his dark eyes slowly scan over every inch of your exposed skin in a way that had you swallowing thickly. 

“Guess.” You tease, biting your lower lip softly when his dark eyes shoot up to look at you with a newfound fire behind them.

“Tell me.” He commands and your thighs immediately clench as the heat from his words travel down between them.

“You’re no fun.” You pout, taking one final sip of your Vodka Cranberry before setting it down on the bar and wiping your hands free from the condensation on your thighs. “I’ll just show you.”

You can’t even fight off the smile that twitches the corners of your mouth at the way Matty shifts in his barstool from your teasing tone, his dark eyes locked in on your every move as you playfully drag out the anticipated reveal. 

Matty’s legs squeeze softly around your own, enough to let you know that he was growing rather impatient and your smile spreads as you finally cave. 

You hook your middle fingers into your mouth and pull your bottom lip down slowly to reveal the ink hidden on the inside. 

Matty’s eyes widen at the sight, quick to lean in to get a better look at the word tattooed on your lip and you can’t help but gasp at the feeling of his hands spreading out over your thighs to hold himself steady while he inspected it. 

“Brat?” He reads the word aloud and you grow dizzy from the feeling of his breath fanning out over your lips, heart pounding beneath your rib cage from his sudden closeness, it wouldn’t take much for you to close the gap and pick right back up where you left off. “Well, that’s fitting.”

“Oh, fuck off.” You groan, dropping your hands from your mouth in favor of hitting his chest softly. Matty is too entranced by the way your lip pops back into place to react. 

“Did it hurt?” Matty asks in a deep, gruff voice that makes your stomach flip, not even bothering to take his eyes off of your lips as he speaks to you. 

“Not really.” You shrug, wiping your fingertips that shined with your spit off on your thigh next to his hands that were still spread over them despite having no reason to anymore, his pinky reaching out to touch the spot. It was growing rather hard to breathe. “Just sucked that I couldn’t kiss any guys without it hurting until it healed.”

And yes, you were lying just to get a rise out of him, but you couldn’t help it. It just came naturally when his hands were on you like this, when his breath was fanning out over your lips, when his dark eyes were glaring into your own as his blunt fingernails dig into the flesh of your thighs so meanly that it pulls a gasp from your throat. 

“Brat.” Matty mumbles, and okay, lines were definitely being crossed. 

“So it says.” You smile, fighting to ignore the way your heart raced at the feeling of his fingertips inching ever so slightly higher up on your thigh. 

Matty leans in a little closer, his voice as deep as the color of his eyes that flicker down to your lips. “And how does it feel now?”

Your stomach flips at the implications behind such a seemingly innocent question. 

You swallow thickly, clenching your thighs subtly as your own eyes glance down at his lips that were parted slightly in a way that was all too inviting.

“Fine.” Your voice comes out a little more breathless than before, barely more than a whisper but Matty hears it plain and clear because he’s right there. 

Matty is only a few inches from your face, so close that you could feel his breath fanning against your lips, close enough that you could have counted each individual eyelash if you weren’t so dizzy from the smell of his cologne and insistent throb between your thighs that his hands were still holding onto. 

Your heart pounds in your chest so intensely that it makes your ears ring, practically holding your breath as Matty inches closer and closer to your lips, all you had to do was close your eyes and tip your mouth to taste the cigarettes that had already faded off your tongue from before and my god you craved it. 

You craved him.

The desire and desperation you felt for him even after all this time was practically eating you alive, crawling beneath your skin and itching to just grab his hand and pull him out into the alley so the two of you could really get reacquainted.

Matty leans in closer, close enough now that you could feel his curls brushing against your forehead as he tilts his head slowly, almost as if he was giving you time to change your mind and maybe he shouldn’t have because suddenly it hits you. 

This wasn’t some stranger you had just met, a guy you could give a fake phone number to and forget all about the next morning, this was Matty.

And as desperately as you craved him, you knew that if you let him kiss you that all those feelings you’d kept buried for over a year now would come crashing back in full force and you weren’t quite sure if you were ready for that yet, if you were ready for him yet.

Matty moves a fraction closer and you jerk back suddenly.

“I need to go to the bathroom.” The words fall fast and breathless off your dry tongue, spoken in a panic without a second thought just seconds before Matty’s lips make contact with your own. “I-I need to-” Your head shakes as you stutter your way through a racing heart, quick to stand up from the barstool you had been sitting in to put some distance between the two of you and try not to miss the loss of Matty’s hands on your thighs as they fall back in his own lap. “I’ll uh- I-I’ll be right back.”

You don’t even give him a second glance as you turn on your heels and make your way through the sea of bodies in search for the bathroom that you vaguely remember being down the hall. 

You could barely hear the music over the ringing in your own ears as you push your way through strangers, apologizing when you accidentally knock a girl's drink out of her hand with your elbow as you squeeze through the packed bar. 

You hadn’t even realized how many people were in here until now, so wrapped up in your own world with Matty that it had almost felt like the two of you were the only ones in the room. 

You nearly cheer when the sign for the bathroom comes into sight, crossing your fingers that it was vacant as you push your way through the final stretch of the bar until your hand was turning the knob, already sighing in relief when it opens without a struggle and closing the door with a little too much force before locking yourself inside. 

You turn around and rest your head back against the door, inhaling a deep breath and closing your eyes as you hold it and count to ten before releasing it in hopes that it would get rid of the weight on your chest. 

It doesn’t, of course. 

You huff and push yourself off of the door to make your way over to the sink, quick to turn it on and splash some of the cold water on your face in an attempt to erase the flush of your cheeks caused by the warmth from his hands that still lingered on your thighs.

“This is so fucking stupid.” You mumble because it was, glancing at yourself in the mirror and rolling your eyes at the sight. “What is wrong with you?” You groan as you stare at your reflection, shaking your head softly as you grip the sink even tighter. “Fuck.”

Your head drops down between your shoulders as you squeeze your eyes shut and try to focus on the pounding bass from the music playing outside of the bathroom and not the spiral you were hurdling down in your mind. 

It had been an entire year, two months and nine days since you had felt Matty’s touch, since you had talked to him, since you had seen him. A whole year that allowed you to convince yourself that you were over it, over him, just for him to show up with his stupid curls and prove you wrong. 

He was a split second away from kissing you and you were letting him, you didn’t want to stop him. God, were you an idiot? After everything he put you through, how could you possibly still crave him? 

But you did. 

You wanted nothing more than to go back out there and kiss him until your lungs ached from the lack of air, until his curls were permanently welded around your fingertips, until your lips were raw and bruised from his own and oh my god, can you get a grip?

“Embarrassing.” You mumble to yourself as you rub a hand over your face out of frustration. 

You were the one who ended things last year, you were the one who threw him out of your apartment, you were the entire reason you even had to miss him at all and now you have the audacity to drip with desperation for him. 

You shouldn’t want to kiss him because you shouldn’t want him at all. You had spent an entire year trying to get over him, you shouldn’t want to throw all that progress away just to satisfy some itch, even if it would feel so good to. 

Because wouldn’t it feel so fucking good to have his hot hands roaming over your body again? For his calloused fingertips to melt your bones in a way you had tried and failed to replicate every night in his absence? For his mouth to explore your own and breathe moans down your throat that you’d happily swallow as he unravels you in ways that only he knew how?

No. 

No. 

You shouldn’t, you can’t.

…Right?

“Oh my god.” You groan, gripping the edges of the sink tightly as you glare at yourself in the mirror and suddenly you’re the same girl that you were a year ago, fighting to find the strength to walk away even when everything in your body was screaming at you to go get him. 

You scrub a hand over your face out of frustration before dropping your head between your shoulders and you nearly debate smashing it into the mirror just to stop your brain from spinning but three knocks at the bathroom door prevent you from doing so.

“It’s occupied." You say just loud enough for the person on the other side to hear, keeping your head down and your eyes tight as you try and formulate a plan to stay in the bar bathroom forever out of fear of having to face him again. 

Muffled music fills the void of silence on the other side of the door, a beat that lasts long enough for you to assume that the person had walked away and then the three knocks come again, a little harder this time. 

“Somebody is in here!” Your voice has more of an annoyed tone this time around, turning your head towards the door so your voice would carry better over the loud music blasting through the speakers, ensuring that whoever was on the other side of the wood heard you so you wouldn’t have to repeat yourself again. 

You glare at the door, almost daring the stranger to knock again as your fingertips grip the edge of the sink, practically holding your breath as the music carries on from outside the four walls you were hiding behind. 

Your eyes roll when you’re met with silence on the other side of the door yet again, grumbling out of annoyance as you turn your attention back towards the mirror and as soon as you let your guard down, the three knocks come again. 

They were quicker this time, oozing with impatience as the person on the other side of the door takes it a step further and wiggles the locked door knob in an attempt to get inside. 

“Oh my god, did you not fucking hear me?” You allow your tipsy, annoyed state to overtake you as you push yourself off the sink to stomp back over to the door you had previously locked, swinging it open in preparation to yell at the person on the other side. “I said that someone is in-”

You freeze, heart plummeting to the floor at the sight of him leaned against the frame.

Matty.

He looks slightly out of breath as if he had run to you quickly, wanting to ensure you hadn’t snuck out the front door instead. His right hand is still half raised from knocking, his knuckles a light shade of pink from the force with which he pounded against the wood. His curls are a little more disheveled than they were a few minutes ago, as if he had run his hands through them several times out of frustration while you were gone. His dark eyes wide and full of panic as they meet your own. 

“I heard you.” Matty nods, speaking softly as though he was nervous that if he spoke any louder that he’d scare you off. 

Oh.

Your heart practically does a somersault. 

You couldn’t help but notice the way his arm held onto the frame of the door and seemed to be blocking any exit plan you might try to create, effectively trapping you in and making it impossible to run away from him this time. 

Your stomach simmers at the thought. 

Your eyes betray you and fall to the muscles in his arm that he leaned against, how they flexed as he held onto the door frame, how his long fingers wrapped around the wood and stood out against the dark oak. 

And yeah, okay, maybe you were gagging for it, but you couldn’t help it. 

He was practically towering over you and you were tipsy and dripping in desperation and you missed him and fuck, he looked so fucking good right now that you couldn’t even think about the cons of caving in anymore. 

You knew that it was wrong, that it was stupid, but if you were never really over him in the first place, then what harm could it possibly do? 

Wouldn’t it feel so good to pretend to be his just one more time?

“I’m sorry.” Matty’s deep voice pulls you out from your daydream, snapping your attention away from his biceps and back towards his dark, tempting eyes. “I shouldn’t have-“

It’s about as far into his apology as he gets before you’re fisting Matty’s shirt and throwing all rationality out the window as you pull him in for a kiss as filthy as the one the two of you shared earlier that night. 

Matty doesn’t hesitate to kiss back this time, quick to react and match your pace as his right hand grabs onto your face for stability while he stumbles through the threshold of the bar bathroom, kicking the door shut behind him and locking it blindly with his left as his mouth devours your own.

The unmistakable sound of the lock clicking makes your stomach flip, fisting his shirt tighter to pull him impossibly closer to you as his left hand joins his other to hold onto the sides of your face as if he was scared you might slip through his fingertips if he didn’t take the precaution. 

Your fingernails dig into his chest, a silent plea for more that Matty hears loud and clear as he sucks your lower lip into his mouth and groans as his teeth dig into the ink etched on the inside.

It was clear that the older man was more affected by your drunken tattoo than you thought and you can’t help but moan into the kiss at the realization, a sound he swallows happily as his tongue slips into your mouth the second he’s invited in. 

You melt into him as his tongue massages against your own, the grip you had on his shirt slowly loosening the more you lose yourself in the kiss, allowing him to take full control as the two of you make up for all that lost time. 

The kiss was frantic, dizzying, hard to keep up in as all that tension pours out through teeth and tongues. Your hands slide up from his chest to his neck before greedily threading through his curls and giving the strands a selfish tug that pulls a filthy moan from his throat. 

You throb at the sound, hard not to do when it was something you hadn’t heard in so long. It had you desperate to pull more from his throat, tugging on his curls once more and smiling into the filthy kiss when he moans yet again. 

You couldn’t help but feel all too powerful as you slowly back Matty up into the bathroom door, your smile only growing when you meet no resistance from him. He happily allows you to lead him blindly as long as you keep tugging on his hair and kissing him like this. 

You give his curls one last tug before sliding your hands back down his neck and following the path to his stomach until you’re meeting the top of his jeans, desperate to hear him moan for more than just his hair being pulled as you pop open the button with practiced ease, two seconds away from pulling down his zipper but the cool metal against your fingertips snaps you out of it. 

You’re quick to pull away from the kiss, panting as you shake your head softly. 

“Fuck, I-I’m sorry.” Your voice was as breathless as you felt, your chest rising and falling in quick succession as you fought to get some air down to your lungs, something Matty mirrored as he towered over you. “What were you saying?”

You were so caught up in the frenzied kiss that you had completely forgotten the way that you cut Matty off mid sentence just to pull him into it. 

“Doesn’t matter.” Matty is quick to mumble, shaking his head as he pulls you back in for a kiss more desperate and hungry than the one before, his tongue hitting your lips before his own do. 

Matty’s hands leave their hold on the sides of your face to slide down your frame and settle on your hips, squeezing there softly before tightening his grip and flipping the two of you around so you were now the one pressed against the bathroom door. 

You gasp as you’re thrown back against the dark wood, Matty quick to press his body flush to your own, shamelessly sliding a thigh between your legs as his hands run greedily along the expanse of your body. 

You can’t help but moan into the kiss when Matty’s teeth tug at your bottom lip until it’s popping back into place, only to groan and dive back into the kiss even hungrier than before as his right hand slides down your hip until it runs over the back of your thigh to raise it and hook it around his own. 

Another gasp falls off your tongue at the way he was manhandling you, quick to slide your arms around his neck and deepen the kiss as he crowds you against the door and presses into you in an intoxicating way that already has you ready to risk it all.

You shamelessly grind down on Matty’s thigh, something you were sure he wanted you to do by the way he groans into your mouth at the feeling, tightening his hold on your hips so he could control the pace with which you rolled down over him. 

Your hand slides back into the base of his curls, twisting the dark strands particularly hard when Matty finds an angle to roll your hips down on his thigh that makes your body jolt, a surge of heat climbing up your spine and settling in your core that throbbed in desperation for the older man. 

Matty tugs your bottom lip between his teeth, pulling back slowly until it pops back into place and you shamelessly lean in expecting for him to dive back into the kiss only to gasp when he noses your jaw to the side so he could bring all of his attention to your neck instead. 

His swollen lips trail open mouth kisses along the expanse of your neck while his hands continue to roll your hips down over his thigh, groaning each time you tug on his hair and smiling against your skin as you pant through moans from the way he sucked over your pulse point, sure to leave a mark that you could only hope wouldn’t fade for weeks. 

“Matty.” You sigh, swallowing thickly as his curls tickle your chin while he works over your neck, practically melting you against the bathroom door in controlled yet frenzied movements that were quickly driving you mad. 

Matty moans against your pulse point at the sound of his name falling from your tongue. His blunt fingernails digging into your hips as he bites over your flesh before quickly soothing it with his tongue, numbing the pain by pressing his thigh harder against your core before rolling you down in a skillful way that makes your mouth fall open in a long drawn out moan that is nothing short of music to his ears. 

His right hand abandons your hip in favor of trailing down your thigh, his calloused fingertips ghosting over the flesh in a way that has goosebumps rising in their path as they trail beneath the hem of your miniskirt while his mouth continues to maul your neck. 

You could do nothing but pant through it all as Matty’s hand slowly trails higher and higher up your thigh until his fingertips are brushing against the black lace of your thong that was ironically one of his favorite pairs that you owned. 

It was as if the universe knew you’d run into him tonight, your intuition must be insane. 

Your racing heartbeat throbs between your thighs as Matty pants against your neck through the open mouth kisses he continues to trail across your throat. Two of his fingers ghost over the lace of your core, the fabric surely damp from how desperately you were already dripping for him, Matty groans at the feeling. 

He doesn’t hesitate to hook his fingertips beneath the lace, too desperate to get his hands on you after all this time to waste any second teasing you and you couldn’t be more grateful, your empty core already clenching as soon as the cool air hits. 

Two of Matty’s calloused fingertips ghost over your core before running through your wet, throbbing center in a way that had you both crumbling. Your fingers tighten in his curls as his own glide through your desperation until he’s groaning against your neck, his teeth grazing over your pulse point. 

“Fuck, baby.” Matty’s voice is deep, rough, it shoots straight down to your empty core that can’t help but clench as he licks up the side of your neck to speak directly into your ear. “You’re so fucking wet for me and I’ve barely even touched you.” 

You whine as you tug sharply at his curls, painful enough that you hear him hiss in your ear before nipping at the lobe with his teeth in a way that has your eyes rolling back. You felt dizzy from the dominance dripping in his tone, something that lacked with any of the men you took home this past year, anticipation already crawling up your spine. 

Matty pants into your ear as his calloused fingertips finally slide over your swollen clit, smiling against the shell of it when you gasp as the feeling his rough hands brought between your thighs. “You miss me that bad?”

And while yes, you did miss him enough that you were practically dripping for him as soon as you sat down in the barstool, the all too familiar arrogance in his tone had the brattiness in your own shining through. 

“Hardly.” You shoot back though it’s bulletless and breathless even as it falls from your tongue, too caught up in the pleasure of the slow circles his fingertips swirled over your bundle of nerves to be anything but. 

Matty hums, smiling against your neck as if it was the exact response he expected you to give, he knew you too well. 

His mouth returns to trailing kissing back down your neck, over your throat and up the side until his lips are back on your own in a filthy kiss that you moan into as his calloused fingertips continue to swirl heavenly circles over your aching clit.

Matty sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, pulling back and digging his teeth in sharply until you gasp before releasing it and staring down at you with a pointed glare. “Really living up to that little tattoo of yours, hm?”

Your face flushes as he abandons the hand at your hip in favor of bringing it up to your mouth so he could run his thumb along the expanse of your lower lip, pulling it down slowly to reveal the ink tattooed on the inside of it. 

Brat. 

He smirks at the sight.

You can’t help but grind down on his fingers shamelessly, only further proving his point as he stops the motion of his fingertips and leaves your pleasure up to the roll of your own hips. 

You whine and attempt to chase the pleasure his hand had brought you, pouting when it doesn’t feel nearly as good as it did when he was in control. 

You smile easily, batting your lashes up at the older man. “Just how you like me.”

Matty’s smirk spreads, rewarding you by swirling his calloused fingertips over your swollen clit until you’re melting against the bathroom door yet again. Though, the pleasure doesn’t last for long, his fingers only swirl one, twice more before pulling away from you altogether. 

A pitiful whine rips from your throat at the loss of him, ready to pout and protest but that all dies on your tongue at the sight of him bringing his slick coated fingers up to his mouth and sucking them clean. 

His dark eyes roll softly as he groans at the taste of you after craving it for so long, not even waiting to pull his own fingers from his mouth before dropping to his knees in front of you out of desperation for more. 

Your stomach flips at the sight, gasping at the feeling of his spit soaked fingertips sliding up your thigh to maneuver your leg to hook around his shoulder so he could get a better angle. 

“Matty.” You gasp, quick to thread your fingertips through his disheveled curls for some form of stability as you balance on one foot and pant against the bathroom door at the feeling of his breath ghosting over your core.

You tug on his dark strands as you quiver in anticipation, something Matty doesn’t let you dwell in for long before digging his fingertips into the flesh of your thigh and diving in for another taste of you. 

“Oh my god.” You sigh, head tipping back against the bathroom door as his tongue glides sure and strong through your dripping core.

Matty moans at the taste, his blunt fingernails digging harsher into the flesh of your thigh that was wrapped around his shoulder as he dives back in hungrier this time, wasting no time in lapping up all you had to offer after being deprived of it for so long.

Your fingers tug sharply on Matty’s curls as his tongue licks and swirls in a way that leaves no room for teasing, your eyes rolling back softly at the feeling of him groaning against your cunt as the painful sting washes over his scalp. 

You could feel the bass of the music thumping through your veins as Matty unravels you, thankful for the loud beat that drowns out all the pitiful moans and whimpers falling from your throat due to his skillful tongue that remembered every trick to have your thighs trembling around his head. 

Matty swirls big circles around your clit until your mind is dizzy, waiting until he could catch you off guard to wrap his lips around the swollen bundle of nerves and suck. Your body jolts from the pleasure that shoots up your spine at the feeling. “F-Fuck.”

Matty smiles against your cunt as he sucks gently on your clit, tightening the grip he has on the thigh thrown over his shoulder when your legs start to tremble and shake from the unrelenting pleasure his mouth was providing. 

The heel of your shoe digs into his back for more stability when you nearly stumble on the one foot you’re balancing with as he pulls back slowly until your clit is falling from his lips. 

You’re only able to catch a glimpse of his face before he dives back in but the sight is enough to make you moan, everywhere from his chin to his nose glistens with you and sure to only shine brighter as he pulls your hips down further on his face as if you weren’t close enough, as if he wanted you to suffocate him. 

And he might get his wish if he keeps eating you out like this. 

Unrelenting, filthy, starving. 

He didn’t leave any room for teasing, no breaks for you to catch your breath, nothing but desire and desperation pouring off his tongue as he makes up for all that lost time. 

You could already feel that all too familiar heat swirling in your stomach, licking down your thighs, numbing your legs down to your toes as Matty sucks on your clit until your eyes are rolling back. 

You tug harshly on Matty’s curls as the pleasure from his mouth practically consumes you, tightening the grip your thigh had over his shoulder and digging your heel into his back in an attempt to help the one leg you were balancing on to hold you more steady through it all. 

“Taste so fucking good.” Matty mumbles against your cunt through a particularly wide swirl of his tongue and you can’t help but gasp at the pleasure of his deep, rough voice hitting your core. 

Your stomach flips at the feeling, the heat from his voice swimming through your veins and lighting your body ablaze. 

Your body jolts when Matty’s lips wrap around your clit yet again and suck until your face is screwed in pleasure, until your thighs are trembling, until you’re positive that you’re about to crumble onto the floor beneath you as you desperately search for something to grab onto for support. 

The hand that wasn’t threaded through Matty’s hair searches blindly against the bathroom door in search of the knob, needing something to hold onto before the leg you were balancing on gave out from the pleasure. 

You pout when your hand comes up short, unable to find the doorknob and desperate to find the next best option as Matty’s tongue swirls your mind dizzy.

Your shaky hand starts the mission of joining your other in Matty’s hair but before it can fully make it there, Matty captures your palm and threads his fingers with your own, giving your hand a tight squeeze as his dark eyes stare up at you before falling down into a wink. 

You moan at the sight, one that drags out from the pleasure of him doubling his efforts over you now that he was positive that you were more steady. 

You squeeze his hand tightly as his tongue fucks into you and his nose swipes against your clit as he puts his entire face into it now, his blunt fingernails digging into your thigh while his other hand holds your own securely through it all. 

You can’t help but grind down on his face when the pleasure becomes too much to handle, burning through your veins in a way that makes it impossible to hold still, desperate to chase that high you were quickly barreling towards. 

Matty moans at the feeling of you grinding down on his tongue, tightening his grip on both your thigh and your hand as he shifts on his knees on the bathroom floor beneath you. 

“Use me.” He mumbles against your cunt in a voice so deep that you barely heard him over the pounding bass of the music outside these four walls. 

You gasp at the simple command, staring down into Matty’s dark eyes that look up at you from between your thighs with such intensity that you can’t help but feel pinned against the bathroom door. 

He nods his head as his lips wrap around your clit and suck, jolting your body in a way that has you grinding down on his face once more, a feeling he desperately wanted more of as his hand on your thigh slides up to your hip and uses the leverage to roll you down on his mouth himself. 

His name rips from your throat in a pitiful whine, a sound that only has him repeating the action and groaning against you when you weakly grind down on his tongue to test the waters. 

Matty’s blunt fingernails dig meanly into your hip at the feeling, staring up at you with dark eyes that begged as he mumbles against your cunt. “Please.”

And fuck, if that didn’t make you feel dizzy. 

The way he was so desperate between your thighs, begging for you when any other man in this bar probably wouldn’t have even thought about getting on his knees at all makes you feel like maybe Matty did love you after all, hard not to assume when he was this obsessed with you, it makes you want to reward him.

Your hips roll down on his face with more certainty now, gasping through a dry tongue at the immediate pleasure it brings, only heightened by the feeling of Matty moaning and smiling against your cunt now that you were giving him exactly what he wanted. 

“Fuck.” You moan weakly, breathless as you quickly find a rhythm to grind down on his face that has you panting as he continues to eat you out as starving and filthy as he had been before. “Oh my god.”

Your fingers tighten their grip on Matty’s curls, tugging sharply in a way that has his dark eyes fluttering and rolling back as you continue to use him. 

“Ah!” You gasp through a body that jolts from the feeling of Matty sucking on your clit, grazing his teeth softly against the swollen bundle of nerves until your hands are holding his hair and hand so tightly that the pain springs tears to his eyes. “Matty.”

His name whimpers off your tongue, falling like an endless mantra as you grind down on his face and chase the pleasure that was blooming and burning inside of you, so close that you could practically taste it. 

Matty’s tongue swirls and swipes in perfect tandem with your hips rolling down on his mouth, keeping your body ablaze and mind dizzy as you melt against the bathroom door through the all consuming pleasure that was crawling up your spine and begging to be released. 

“I-I’m so close.” You feel the need to warn, gasping out a moan as your head tips back against the door when Matty hums against you at the warning. 

“I know.” Matty mumbles against your cunt and my god, you nearly fell apart right then and there, the fact that he still knew you so well even after all this time apart is dizzying. 

Your hips pick up in pace after that, taking that as permission to fall apart whenever you want. You knew Matty well enough to know that if he didn’t want you to cum yet, he’d make sure you didn’t.

“Fuck.” You whine, tugging on his curls and squeezing his hand tightly as you chase the pleasure through hips that would surely have Matty’s face covered in you when this was all said and done. “M-Matty, I- f-fuck.” 

You gasp through a face screwed in pleasure, feeling as though you were burning alive as the numbing heat consumed your body in a way that had you desperate to release it all before you actually melted against the door. 

Matty stares up at you from between your thighs through it all, hanging onto every gasp and jolt of your body until he knows you’re on the brink of falling apart, smiling against your cunt as he nods slowly and silently tells you to let go. 

And fuck, you do. 

You tug on Matty’s hair sharply as your body jolts forward one last time before your high crashes into you so intensely that Matty has to tighten his grip on your hip and hand to ensure you wouldn’t topple over as your legs shake and tremble through the pleasure. 

Matty continues to eat you out through your high, his tongue still swirling and sucking as if you weren’t already falling apart all over his mouth, dragging your high out for longer and making it all crash into you more intensely.

You were surprised that you hadn’t pulled Matty’s curls right from his scalp by now with how hard you were tugging on the dark strands through it all, surely cutting off the blood flow to his hand with how tightly you were squeezing it as it all washes over you. 

Your heart is still pounding even as you finally start to come down from your high, ragged breaths falling from your bitten raw lips as you rest your head back against the door and stare up at the ceiling and try to regain some of your composure. 

Hard to do when Matty’s head was still between your thighs, greedily cleaning you up with much slower movements than he had originally fixed you with, but it was enough to have you whimpering and squirming through the sensitivity. 

“Matty.” His name isn’t much more than a whisper, spoken through pants and a hand that tugs on his hair weakly. “I-I can’t, I- fuck.” 

You moan at the feeling of his lips wrapping around your swollen, sensitive clit and sucking gently, the pleasure strong enough to make your body jolt though a gasp. 

You knew if you didn’t stop him soon that he would happily send you over the edge again just like this and as tempting as the idea was, you were desperate for more than just his mouth. 

“Please, I-I want- ah!” You whine as he sucks your clit a little harder now and you were desperate to pull him out from your thighs before you were too far gone to ask for what you really wanted. “Fuck, get up here.” You command though a breathless toned, tugging on his hair sharper now as you slide your thigh off of his shoulder and stand on your own two feet. “Need you to fuck me, wanna feel you.”

You were still too floaty from your high to feel any shame in your request, had barely finished getting it out before Matty was practically growling against your cunt and finally pulling away from it, your stomach flipping at the sight of him. 

His hair messy and dark eyes blown wide with a face that was absolutely covered in you, glistening in the light as he uses your hand he was still holding as leverage to pull himself up off the ground and barely giving you the time to actually appreciate how filthy he looked before his mouth was on your own again. 

You couldn’t help but moan into the kiss at the taste of you all over his tongue that massages against your own, the slick on his chin and cheeks transferring to your own as he tilts his head and deepens the kiss further. 

Matty’s hands roam hot and greedy all over your body, desperation still pouring from him in a way that would make you think that this was the first time he was getting his hands on you, it makes you dizzy. 

“Please.” You mumble against his lips, grinding your hips against his own as best as you could in the position he had you crowded in against the door, your manicured nails scratching against his scalp as you breathe the beg into his mouth. “Need you.”

Matty groans into the kiss, nipping at your bottom lip with his teeth as his greedy hands round over your backside, hooking beneath your thighs and mumbling against your lips. “Jump.”

And my god, you may as well have asked him how high with how quickly you’re following his commands, quick to jump and wrap your legs around Matty’s waist all without breaking the heated kiss. 

Your arms lock around Matty’s neck as you hold onto his hair tightly while he blindly carries you across the bathroom floor until he reaches his desired destination, slowly placing you down on the edge of the sink and the relief in your thighs is immediate, thankful that you didn’t have to hold yourself up any longer. 

You keep your legs wrapped around Matty’s waist, squeezing his hips with your thighs as his teeth tug on your bottom lip until it’s popping back into place. 

Your hands leave his hair in favor of trailing down his chest, digging your manicured nails in softly along the way and the feeling has Matty groaning and pressing against your exposed core, something about the denim rubbing against such a sensitive area has you whimpering into his mouth and he swallows the sound happily. 

“Matty.” You whine against his lips, your fingertips trailing lower and lower down his stomach until they meet the waistband of his jeans for the second time that night. “Fuck me, please.”

Matty groans and you're unsure if it's due to the way you moaned his name, the feeling of your fingers toying with the zipper on his jeans or the way you begged for him again. 

Matty pulls away from the kiss to pant, towering over you with dark eyes full of lust and desire. 

“I heard you the first two times.” Matty grumbles as he swats your hand away from his zipper and takes control in pulling the metal down. “So fucking impatient.”

And while you should have been embarrassed for how needy you were being, especially after already having an orgasm under your belt, you couldn’t find the time when all your attention was glued to the way Matty’s hand disappeared beneath his boxers. 

Your mouth drops open in a gasp when he pulls himself out of confinement, your empty core clenching at the sight of him and your legs that are wrapped around his waist are quick to pull him closer in a desperate attempt to get him inside of you already, well past the point of desperation and shame now. 

Matty pumps himself once, twice, enough to take some of the edge off. A guttural groan falls breathlessly from his swollen pink lips as his thumb swipes over the tip and your mouth practically waters at the sight, another desperate plea sitting at the tip of your tongue but Matty beats you to it. 

“You ready?” He asks as he lines himself up and you’re already dizzy just from the feeling of his length ghosting over your entrance. 

And even though you were so close to getting what you really wanted, you couldn’t help but allow that bratty side of you to shine through. 

“You’ve changed.” You pout softly, your hand sliding up his chest and neck until you’re cupping his jaw as you tease. “Such a proper gentleman now.”

Matty scoffs, rolling his dark eyes. “Shut the fuck up.”

And you don’t even have time to come up with a witty response because he’s pushing forward and sliding home. All words dying on your tongue as you gasp out a moan, your grip tightening on his jaw the deeper he goes and oh my god has he always been this big?

You expected the stretch of him to burn after being deprived of him for so long, but fuck, it nearly springs tears to your eyes as he bottoms out. 

“Fuck.” Matty groans through breathless pants, his thick eyebrows furrowed together as he settles into you. He fixes you with a shallow, experimental thrust and quickly crumbles at the feeling, his voice deep and rough as he speaks through a groan. “Forgot how fucking good you feel.” 

Your heart lurches, practically preening as you clench around him at the compliment, he hisses at the feeling.

“Matty.” You sigh in a voice that’s higher pitched than usual, your hand falling down from his jaw down to his chest, digging your fingernails into the cotton of his shirt as a silent plea for him to move and pouting when it doesn’t satisfy the itch. Your hand slides down to the hem of his shirt, pulling up on it softly as you grumble. “Take this off.”

Matty huffs out a breathless laugh, quick to obey your commands and reaches down to take hold of the bottom of his t-shirt and pull it over his head so fast that you nearly missed it. 

A smile spreads over your face now as you drink in the sight of his tattooed chest that you missed so dearly, sliding your hand up the expanse of it and digging your nails into the ink as you clench around him, desperate for him to fix you with thrusts that weren’t so shallow. 

“You satisfied now, princess?” Matty teases, rolling his hips softly into your own, just slow and shallow enough to drive you mad. 

You nearly moan at the pet name, having gone without it for so long that hearing it fall from his swollen pink lips has you feeling rather dizzy and even more desperate for him to stop teasing. 

“Very.” You smile easily, batting your lashes up at the man as your nails trace over the lines of his chest tattoo that you knew by heart before digging into it in a way that makes him hiss. “Would be more satisfied if you would fuck me already.”

Matty huffs out a laugh. 

“Yeah?” His lips spread into a smile as he thrusts slowly inside of you, not nearly as deep or precise as you craved him to be. Your skin practically crawls with desire as you grow more and more impatient. “Isn’t that what I’m doing right now?”

He emphasizes his point by pulling out of you slowly and sliding back in just as much, you squirm on top of the sink as you desperately try to roll your hips down to bring him in deeper, a pitiful whine falling from your throat when it fails. 

And while you could have continued to beg for him, it was clear that all the pleas were getting you nowhere so you had to try a different approach, one that never failed. 

“Well, if this is the best you can do, I should go find that guy you scared away.” You sigh, sliding your hand up from his chest to his neck, batting your lashes up at the older man as you tease. “See if he feels like giving me what I want.” 

Matty laughs through a scoff, shaking his head softly.

“You know, you haven’t changed at all.” He throws your own words back in your face. “You’re exactly the same.” He says with a wicked gleam in his eye, a smirk spread over his face as he pulls out slowly. “A spoiled fucking brat.”

He emphasizes the degrading words by slamming back inside of you, so much force that it knocks your jaw loose in a long drawn out moan that he quickly finds a rhythm to keep the sound ripping from your throat.  

Your hand tightens around his neck softly on instinct, needing something to hold onto as he fucks you so deep and hard that it was difficult to catch a breath in. 

“Maybe.” You hiccup through a moan, fighting to adjust to the burning stretch of him. “But i-it gets me what I want, doesn’t it?”

Matty nearly growls, his hips slapping against your own with such force that your hand tightens around his neck until he moans. “Only to shut that pretty mouth.”

You preen and clench around him. 

“Oh c'mon." Your eyes roll softly, squeezing his neck until his own dark orbs mirror the action. “We both know this is exactly how you like me.”

“Yeah.” Matty nods and your hand falls from his neck back down to his chest. “Love putting you in your place.” He emphasizes through a particularly powerful thrust that scoots you up further on the sink. “Reminding you who you belong to.”

And while the warmth from his words spreads throughout your veins, high on the idea of finally belonging to him, you weren’t ready to cave just yet. 

“I don’t belong to anyone.” You argue weakly through a moan, tightening your legs around his waist. 

Matty smirks as if he was expecting you to say that, taking his hand off of the sink and resting it on your jaw, your body jolts from the cold feeling of his fingertips. 

His thumb reaches out to pull on your bottom lip until your tattoo is visible, almost as if he was using the ink as a way to silently call you a brat and your stomach flips at the thought. 

The smirk on Matty’s face spreads further as he allows your lip to pop back into place, bringing his thumb back down to your chin so he could pry your mouth open until he had enough room to lean forward and spit inside of it. 

You feel dizzy at the action, clenching around him and moaning obscenely as Matty holds your mouth open with a hand at your jaw. 

He slows his thrusts down and leans in slowly, pinning you to the sink with dark, dangerous eyes. “You belong to me.”

You can’t help but whine, staring up at the older man who releases your jaw and raises an eyebrow at you until you close your mouth and swallow happily. 

Matty smiles proudly at the sight. “Good girl.”

And then he’s slamming back inside of you just as hard as before, knocking all the air from your lungs and lighting your body on fire as he fucks you hard, filthy, desperate.

Matty’s hand slides down to your thigh, unhooking one of your legs from around his waist so he could spread you open further, effectively deepening the angle as he watches the way he fucks into you.

“Fuck.” You gasp, digging your nails into his chest. “You’re so fucking big.” Your voice is as breathless as you felt, each thrust he fixes you with seeming to knock the air out of your lungs. “S-So deep.”

One of your hands falls down from his chest to hold your stomach, clenching around his cock at the feeling of it bulging with each thrust he fixes you with. 

“You used to take my cock everyday with no problem.” Matty groans, digging his blunt nails into your thigh as he pouts softly, cooing. “What happened, baby?” 

You moan obscenely at the pet name, so desperate to hear it falling from his tongue after being deprived of it for so long. 

“You want me to stop?” Matty teases the bulletless threat, a playful gleam in his eye that only brightens when you shake your head and he mirrors the action. “No?” His thick brows furrow in faux shock as a smirk spreads on his face. “‘Course not.”

And something about the arrogance in his tone has your eyes rolling and feeling the need to knock him down a peg.

“You can stop whenever you’d like, I-I’m fine.” Your breathless voice fights to sound casual and unaffected, batting your lashes through bleary eyes as you tease. “You need this more than I do.”

You were fully expecting the bratty tone to light Matty up, for him to punish and degrade you for insinuating such a thing when you were the one begging for him, nothing could have prepared you for the way he crumbled and folded. 

“Yeah, I do.” Matty nods through breathless pants, digging his blunt nails meanly into your thigh. “Been dreaming about having you underneath me every night for the past year, I- fuck.” He gasps at the feeling of you clenching around him at his admission. “I-I need you so fucking bad, baby, missed you so much.” Your heart lurches. “Please let me make you cum.”

His plea shoots straight down to your core that throbs around him due to his shameless display of desperation for you, it makes you want to throw the bratty act away completely and give him everything, anything he wants as long as he keeps looking at you like this.

“Matty.” You sigh, sliding your hands up from his chest to his neck to find a home in his dark, disheveled curls. 

“Can I make you cum, baby?” Matty begs, his dark eyes full of a desperate pleading gleam that you know will be burned in your memory forever. “Please, I-I need it.”

The fact that Matty wasn’t begging to cum himself but for the permission to make you fall apart instead has you feeling rather dizzy, a newfound power under your belt as you nod. 

“Y-Yeah.” You gasp out as Matty fixes you with a particularly deep, long stroke that knocks the air from your lungs. You tug on his hair as you nod harder through eyes that flutter from the pleasure. “Show me how much you missed me.”

And fuck, he does.

Matty doubles his efforts over you, fucking you so intensely that you were nervous the sink might break, tugging on Matty’s curls tightly as he hooks an arm around your legs to bring his calloused fingertips over your swollen, sensitive clit. 

You gasp at the sudden pleasure. 

“Fuck, Matty.” You whine, gripping his curls for some form of purchase as his fingers swirl over your clit and melt you against the sink. “Oh my god, I- fuck.” You whimper as the sound of skin slapping drowns out the music blaring outside of these four walls, quickly spiraling down a rabbit hole of endless pleasure. “I-I need-“

You weren’t even sure what you were asking for and you may never find out due to the request being interrupted by the sound of the door knob jiggling and four hard knocks coming against the wood. 

Matty’s hand quickly leaves your thigh in favor of covering your mouth instead and you can’t help but moan obscenely against his palm at the sudden change in angle, quick to wrap your leg he had been holding back around his waist and rolling your eyes at how deep he was now. 

“It’s occupied!” Matty calls out your same words from earlier all without breaking eye contact with you, his dark eyes trained on the way your own roll back and flutter as he continues to fuck you as if there wasn’t someone right outside the door. 

You can’t help but moan freely, muffled by Matty’s palm but still loud enough for him to press his hand down harder over your mouth in an attempt to keep you quiet. 

You try to listen for any commotion on the other side, hard to focus on through the ringing in your ears, the bass of the music thumping and the sound of Matty's skin slapping against your own. 

You can only assume the stranger knocks again by the way Matty’s thick eyebrows knit in frustration before he calls out, “Someone is in here!” with the same annoyance in his tone that you had carried before. 

You clench around him, biting at his palm in a silent request for more, the idea of someone catching the two of you turning you on more than you cared to admit. 

Matty smirks down at you and switches his palm out for two of his fingers instead, sliding them between your swollen lips and curling them down on your tongue when you suck them in greedily. 

He leans in closer to speak directly into your ear. 

“Just like old times, hm?” He hums, fucking into you impossibly deeper with this new angle in a way that had the heels of your shoes digging into his back. “You almost getting us caught because you can’t keep your fucking mouth shut.”

You moan obscenely around his digits, biting down on his knuckles as his other set of fingers swirl faster, tighter, harder over your bundle of nerves. 

“Some things never change, do they, baby?” He speaks hotly into your ear before licking over the shell of it, curling his fingers down on your tongue as he fucks you closer and closer to your high. “Still can’t keep yourself quiet when you’re taking Daddy’s cock.”

You bite down meanly on his fingers, nearly wailing around the digits as the spoken title travels from your ear straight down to your core that clenches around him tightly out of desperation. 

“I bet you’re so fucking close, aren’t you, princess?” He coos in your ear, swirling tight figure eights over your clit as he fucks you in a mind numbing rhythm that has an all too familiar burning heat crawling up your spine. You nod, it’s all you can do with his fingers stuffed in your mouth. “Yeah? Fucking knew it. Always had a thing for nearly getting caught, such a dirty fucking girl.”

Your eyes roll back as his filthy words wash over you. You felt like you were drooling, maybe you were, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care when he was fucking you like this. 

You suck on Matty’s fingers greedy and filthy as he barrels you closer and closer to the edge, you were so close that you could practically taste it, something Matty surely knew by the animilasitc way that he fucked you now. 

Matty pulls out from your neck, his eyes blown wide with lust and desire as he stares down at the mess he’s made of you, wanting to soak in the sight before sending you over the edge. 

“So fucking pretty like this, baby, such a good girl for me.” He brags and you practically preen, mumbling a muffled plea against his fingers as you stare up at him with eyes that begged to send you over the edge. “I dreamed about having you like this again, fucking purring underneath me, begging to cum.”

If you weren’t already before, you definitely are drooling now, something Matty catches with his thumb before curling his fingers down on your tongue while his other set swirl in a paced matched with the one he fucked you with. Hard, fast, messy. 

“Wanna feel you cum on my cock, think you can do that for me, sweet girl?” You moan around his fingers and nod as best as you could, clenching around his cock and tugging on his hair as that all too familiar heat starts to consume you. “Yeah?” His voice drips in a condescending tone that makes you throb as he coos. “What’s the magic word?”

Your stomach flips, legs tightening around his waist as you moan around his fingers and try to beg with the digits still pressed down over your tongue. You slur, “Please.”

“Good.” Matty coos. “Good girl.” And you nearly fall apart right then and there. “Go on then.” He nods. “Cum for me, princess. Let me feel you.”

Matty only has to swirl his fingers around your clit twice more and you’re hurdling over the edge, your high crashing into so intensely that you feared the sink might break beneath you as your body trembles and jolts through immense pleasure. 

You bite down on Matty’s fingers as your orgasm consumes you, face screwed in pleasure as he continues to fuck you through it, dragging out your high and adding to the intensity of it all. 

“Fuck, that’s it, there she is.” Matty groans, face crumbling in pleasure at the feeling of your walls throbbing around him as your high rolls through you. “So fucking pretty when you cum, baby, fuck.”

Matty gasps out a moan, taking his hand away from your sensitive clit to grip your thigh with blunt fingernails that dig in meanly as he nears closer and closer to the edge. 

You whimper around his fingers, surely drooling as your eyes roll back from how sensitive you felt as he uses you for his own pleasure.

“Missed the way you feel falling apart on my cock, I- fuck.” Matty whines, digging his nails deeper in your flesh as his hips stutter and he starts to pant. “I-I’m gonna- fuck me. I-I’m so fucking close, baby.” He groans and you hum around his fingers, clenching around his cock in a way that would surely only push him closer to the edge. “Where do you want me?”

You don’t even need to think twice. 

“Inside.” You mumble around his digits as best as you could, slurred as best. 

Matty is quick to pull his fingers out of your mouth so he could make sure he heard you correctly, his fingertips connected to your lips through a string of spit that makes your stomach flip. 

“Inside.” You repeat more clearly now that your mouth isn’t stuffed full, nodding for extra confirmation as you clench around him. “Please, wanna feel you.”

“Fuck.” Matty groans, his spit soaked hand quick to wrap around your neck, squeezing the area just hard enough to make your eyes roll back softly. “Want me to cum inside of you and make you all mine, baby?” 

He coos and you nod as best as you can with his hand around your neck. Matty mimics the nod of your head with a smirk on his face, one that crumbles when you clench around his length tightly which only makes him squeeze your neck harder. 

“You’re so- shit.” He groans, his hips faltering but he’s quick to recover, using your body to send him over the edge. “I-I’m gonna- oh fuck. I-“ He whimpers, digging his fingernails into the flesh of your thigh as his hand squeezes your neck harder, needing something to hold onto for support as his high crashes into him. “Fuck, baby, I’m gonna- ah!” 

Matty pants through a deep guttural groan as he spills inside of you, squeezing your neck so tightly that it cuts off your flow of air as his orgasm wracks through his body in trembles and whimpers. 

You moan at the feeling of Matty cumming inside of you as best as you could given the position you found yourself in. Matty feels the vibrations against his palm and is quick to release his hold on your neck to let the sound fly freely. 

You’re quick to gasp in a breath before moaning filthy as Matty continues to fuck you through his high, his head falling forward to rest his forehead against your own while he delivers the final few thrusts to your sensitive core. 

“Fuck.” Matty pants, his sweaty curls pressed against your forehead as he breathes heavily onto your face, a feeling that makes you clench around him and the action has Matty’s lips sealing against your own in a flash.

You hum the second Matty’s lips collide with your own, the fingers that laid lazily in his curls awaken to thread new life through the dark strands and tug as you melt into a kiss that was far less heated and way more real than any the two of you had shared that night. 

Matty kisses you slowly, gently, taking his time with you as his hips roll lazily into your own as he comes down from his high. 

It doesn’t take long for you to get lost in the kiss, feeling dizzy as the butterflies swirl in your stomach and spin around your head as his lips mold against your own, holding onto his curls tightly out of fear that he might slip through your fingertips if you dared to let him go. 

Matty hums at the feeling of your fingers wrapped around his curls, more in contentment than in pleasure like he had previously. He kisses you until he is sure all the air was knocked from your lungs before he slowly pulls away and gives you one last quick peck before resting his forehead against your own.

“I’m so sorry.” He speaks softly because he’s close enough that he could whisper and you’d hear him loud and clear. 

“For what?” Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. “I told you to cum insid-“

“Not for that.” Matty huffs out a laugh, the breath of it fanning across your face in a way that raises goosebumps along your arms. “For, well, everything.”

Your heart clenches.

“Matty-“

“But especially for the way everything went down that night.” He shakes his head softly and your heart starts to race. “If I could go back in time and redo that entire day over again, I would because-“

“It’s fine.” You’re quick to interrupt and assure, desperate to change the subject before you were forced to relive the worst night of your life. “I-I don’t want to dwell on the past, let’s just forget about it, okay?”

“No, it’s not fine.” He argues, stubborn as ever, maybe he hadn’t changed after all. “I should’ve never left that night, I should have stayed, I should have fought for you.” 

Your heart pounds against your ribcage so intensely that you feared Matty might be able to hear it as dark eyes stare deeply into your own. 

“I sat outside your door for hours that night because I didn’t want to walk away from you and I shouldn’t have.” His head shakes, your heart aches. “I have regretted walking away from you every day since. I should have kicked that door down and fought for you, for us.”

Your eyes swell with tears as you swallow down the lump in your throat as you recall the way you screamed and cried for him after he left, how badly you wanted to run out after him only to now know that you wouldn’t have even had to taken one step out the door because he was right there the whole time. 

“It wouldn’t have changed anything.” You speak softly, sliding a hand out of curls so you could cup his cheek. “You could have told me the sky was blue and I wouldn’t have believed you that night.” You thumb his cheek softly. “I needed you to leave so I could heal before I ever thought about believing you.”

“And now?” Matty asks, leaning back far enough that he could stare down at your full face, nerves swimming behind his dark orbs. “Do you believe me now?”

Your heart clenches at the idea of hearing him bring up those feelings that you desperately tried to ignore all this time, having to so you could even try to heal. 

“Matty-“ You try to cut him off but Matty is having none of it, quick to grab your jaw softly to ensure you couldn’t look away from him as he spills his guts. 

“I have spent the entire past year, two months and nine days miserable without you.” Matty confesses and your heart skips a beat knowing that he had been keeping a tally just as you had been. “Missing you, looking for you everywhere, loving you.” 

He emphasizes the word by squeezing your jaw softly before sliding his hand up to cup your cheek instead, wiping away a stray tear that had fallen from your eye with his thumb as he nods slowly. 

“I love you.” He stresses and your heart stops beating for a full second while he stares deeply into your teary eyes. “I-I never stopped loving you.” His fingertips flex against your cheek as he teases. “And before you say it, no, I’m not just drunk on pussy.” 

And you can’t help the wet giggle that tumbles from your lips, a sound Matty smiles warmly at as he holds both sides of your face and leans in slowly to place a soft, sweet kiss to your lips, pulling away just as slowly. 

“I love you.” His hands are warm against your cheeks as they collect the stray tears that fall from your eyes, feeling déjà vu for the last night you had seen him, though those tears were full of pain and sadness and these were nothing but happy. “Losing you was the worst mistake of my life and I won’t do that again so I’m sorry, but you’re not getting rid of me that easily this time.”

Another wet giggle tumbles from your lips, staring up at the older man with eyes that surely gleamed as your heart flutters at the sight of him looking back at you just the same. 

“I will fight for you everyday if I have to.” Matty smiles. “Knocking on your door until I have splinters in my knuckles, you will be so sick of me.”

Your eyes roll through a giggle at his dramatics, shaking your head softly as you squeeze your legs that were still wrapped around his waist. 

“I already am.” You tease and Matty’s smile only grows further as he pinches your cheek in retaliation, your face scrunches at the feeling and he leans in to kiss the tip of your nose at the sight.

“Brat.” He mumbles before nipping the end of your nose. 

Matty pulls back to stare down at you once more and you can’t help but slide your hands back through his hair, pushing his sweaty curls off of his forehead so you could get a better view of his entire face. 

“I missed you too, you know.” You mumble, tugging on his hair softly as you tease. “Was miserable without that filthy mouth of yours.”

Matty’s smile shifts into a smirk, his thick eyebrows wiggling. “Oh, I know how much you love my filthy mouth.”

“I do.” You huff out a laugh, tugging his hair softly once more as you stare into his dark eyes that gleamed down at you. “And I love you.” You nod, twirling a curl around your fingertip as you sigh. “Even though you are so-”

And you can’t even finish the teasing words because Matty was shutting you up with his own mouth, kissing you with such passion and emotion that the two of you can’t help but smile into it as you hold onto each other tightly. 

“I love you.” Matty mumbles against your lips, pulling away to peck them again. “I love you.” He repeats, kissing the tip of your nose. “I love you.” He repeats like a mantra as he kisses over the entirety of your face and you can’t help but smile and giggle through it all. “Fuck, I’m so in love with you.”

Matty continues to mumble the sentiment against your skin as he brings his attention to your neck instead, his curly strands tickling your chin and sending you into a fit of giggles as he attacks you with kisses. 

“You know,” You tug in his hair softly through a huff of laughter. “you’re supposed to at least take someone on a first date before you lovebomb them.”

Matty pulls back far enough to glare at you and scoff.

“I’ve cum inside of you a few times now, sweetheart, I think that counts for a bit more than a shared milkshake.” Matty snorts. “I’m hardly love bombing you, but I will happily take you on a date anyways.”

You hum, pulling him in for a kiss that would have knocked you off your feet if you weren’t already perched up on the bathroom sink and- shit. 

You were so wrapped up in all the emotions Matty confessed that you had completely forgotten that he hadn’t even pulled out yet. 

“Speaking of you cumming inside of me.” You mumble against his lips as you clench around him softly. 

“Fuck.” Matty hisses against your mouth, pulling away far enough so he could look down between the two of you and see that he was, in fact, still inside of you. He smiles sheepishly, “I forgot about that, here.” 

He grabs onto your hip with one hand and the base of his length with the other before slowly pulling out, you both moan softly at the feeling, a sound that pulls from Matty again as he watches the way his cum spills out of you now that he’s not holding it in any longer. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re fucking filthy.” He groans, his dark eyes glued to the sight of him dripping out of you, practically in a daze as he mumbles, “Looks like someone needs to clean you up.”

As soon as the words are spoken, he’s falling to his knees on the bathroom floor for the second time that night, your legs naturally falling over his shoulders and you can’t help but gasp at the sudden change in energy. 

“Matty.” You mean for his name to sound as a warning but that’s quite hard to do when it falls breathless off your tongue, his filthy mouth already placing open most kisses along the expanse of your inner thighs, your hand already threading through his hair. “If you make me cum again, you’re seriously going to have to carry me out of here.”

Matty smiles against your inner thigh, staring up at you through his lashes from the floor as he mumbles against your flesh. “I was already planning on it.”

[noacf-enthusiasttt]

whatever. blue hair matty appreciation post

[noacfslut]

almost, so close, maybe. part six. - matty healy

this is the final part of office!au. here are the links to the other parts in case you missed them! one. | two. | three. | four. | five.

part six: yours

you wake up monday morning wrapped up in matty's arms, is that where you'll fall asleep tonight?

minors do not interact!

tags: 18+, age gap (25/34), cheating, masturbation, guided masturbation, oral (m receiving), choking, degradation, praise kink, brief d word mention, unprotected sex, panic attacks, suuuper angsty

27386 words

You wake up Monday morning the same way you had fallen asleep the night before, wrapped up in Matty’s arms. His feet tangled with yours beneath the bedsheets, his knees in the bend of your own, his bare chest pressed to your naked back with no room to spare, his tattooed arms wrapped around your waist to hold you flush against him as his lips pressed softly to the back of your neck. 

The kisses he littered your neck with now were as slow and calculated as his breath that fanned against your skin and raised goosebumps in its path, waking you up in the all too familiar way that he had lulled you to sleep the night before, a task that wasn’t too hard to do after the events that had unfolded.

The way Matty had cleaned you up after spilling inside of you for the first time, eating his own cum out of you as if he was starving for it, moaning and whimpering against your cunt as he licked up every drop of him. It made him so worked up that by the time you were falling apart again, Matty was ready to go for round two. Well, two and a half if you count the way he fingered the cum he spilled inside of you for the second time back where it belonged before making you clean the rest off of his fingers with your tongue. 

You were rather weightless after that, actually thankful to not have Matty between your legs for once after he finally finished playing with you and decided to come cuddle instead. He didn’t even bother with the task of finding the clothes he’d tossed off the side of the bed first before falling into you and murmuring promises you could only hope he’d keep against your skin.

You had found comfort against his frame quickly, unable to ignore the intimacy of it all as you drifted off to sleep naked in his arms, fighting to not think about how perfectly you fit together as if you belonged there all along.

You were nervous to open your eyes now, terrified that it all might be a dream and none of this was real. Not the coffee or the bagels or the dinner he cooked for you, not the soap and shampoo of his you had used and was embedded in your skin and hair if you searched through all the layers of sweat from the night before, not his feelings that he had confessed for you.

I love you, I love you, I love you. 

It’s the last thing you thought about when you fell asleep in his arms last night and the first thing on your mind the second you started to stir awake from the feeling of Matty’s curls brushing against your jaw with his lips pressed softly to the back of your neck this morning. 

Why didn’t you say it back? Why haven’t the two of you talked about it yet? Hell, did he even mean it? Or was he just high on an impending orgasm and drunk on pussy that he was about to spill inside of?

And as insistent as those three little words swirled through your mind all night long, as badly as you wanted to know the truth behind them, you were terrified to know the answer. 

If what he felt for you was real, if he truly meant it, he could tell you tonight.  

Because tonight he’s breaking up with her, tonight he will be single, tonight he will be all yours. 

Finally. 

Matty’s hand slides down your waist and you get chills from his cold fingertips running along the expanse of your naked frame, your stomach flipping when his hand settles at your hip, gripping it in a way that has anticipation creeping up your spine as his kisses grow a little less soft and a lot more filthy. 

You shift in his bed, slow and subtle, hopeful that it wouldn’t make your intentions too obvious as you press your body more flush against his own and turn your neck to the side ever so slightly just to give him more room to work with. 

Matty’s blunt fingernails dig into your hip harshly, enough to bring a jolt of pain and let you know that you hadn’t been subtle at all. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to feel ashamed, not when he takes the silent invitation and trails filthy, open mouthed kisses along the newfound expanse of your neck in a way that has you gripping the duvet a little tighter and praying that this all wasn’t just some wet dream. 

Matty uses the leverage he has with his hand at your hip to pull you back on him in tune with him pressing against you and you nearly moan at the feeling of his hard length rolling against you. The feeling has you nearly ready to beg for him to lift your leg and slide home as his teeth graze against your neck before he bites down softly and soothes the area with his tongue. 

“You awake?” Matty mumbles against your neck, his voice rough and raspy from sleep, it shoots straight down to your core and makes your thighs clench in a way that Matty surely doesn’t miss. 

“No.” You mumble, nuzzling your head more into the pillow as Matty laughs softly into your neck before littering more kisses up the side until his breath is fanning against the back of your ear, you hum at the feeling. “What time is it?”

“Early.” Matty offers as his tongue licks over the shell of your ear and you can’t help but shiver as he breathes hotly into it. His blunt fingernails dig into your flesh as he rolls his hips against your backside, making you feel as though the rough edge in his tone was due to more than just the early hour. Suddenly you felt wide awake. Matty’s teeth nip at your earlobe before he whispers into your ear. “Roll over.”

The raspy command served as a bucket of ice water, effectively removing what tiredness that lingered behind your eyes as you finally opened them softly and took in the sight of the navy sky out the window adjacent to the bed and drew the conclusion that it was in fact early, nowhere near the time the alarm was set for. 

You hum as if you were considering it, nuzzling your face deeper into the pillow as if you were going to fall back asleep even as your hips roll back against his own in a way that makes him moan into your neck and causes you to feel all too powerful. 

“Oh, don’t tell me that you woke me up just so you could fuck me.” You tease in a faux annoyed tone, your toes already curling just from the feeling of his hard length grinding against you in desperation. 

“You woke up on your own.” Matty argues, pinching your hip as he smiles against your neck and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes softly despite the fact that he couldn’t even see you. “C’mon baby, roll over.” Matty tempts you yet again, the desperation clear in his raspy tone as his lips trail down the side of your neck until he’s kissing along the backs of your shoulders. “Know you want my cock.”

And you couldn’t help the way your stomach flips as the filthy words melt again your skin, feeling a bit embarrassed by how true that statement was because even though Matty had fucked you every which way for two days straight, you still wanted more, you still craved him. He was like a terrible addiction that you just couldn’t seem to kick. 

“Or,” You draw the word out and Matty is already digging his teeth softly into your shoulder at the sound. “you could use your right hand?” You offer, rolling your hips back against his own for extra measure as you tease. “Haven’t you had enough of me already?”

And you were fully prepared for Matty to grab you by the hips and roll you over himself, manhandle you in a way that would have you begging for him to fuck the brat out of you. So you couldn’t help but feel shocked when Matty smiles against your shoulder, digs his teeth a little harsher into the flesh before mumbling against your skin. 

“Okay.” He concedes, pressing one final kiss to your shoulder and giving your hips a squeeze as his rough, raspy tone conveys that he was about to snatch all that power from you. “Whatever you say, princess.”

And then he was gone. 

His body rolls away from your own so quickly that it pulls your stomach down to your toes that were uncurling at the loss of him, your body already growing cold from the lack of warmth, your heart racing out of fear that you had just teased your way out of getting what you really wanted. 

Maybe being a brat was finally about to bite you in the ass.

You hear Matty shuffling behind you, your body moving slightly with every dip and movement from the mattress beneath all of Matty’s shifting as he settles into a comfortable position. You knew that he was only testing you, teasing you, seeing how far he could go before you caved in and admitted defeat like you always did. 

You told yourself that you’d stay strong and keep your back turned towards him, knowing that if you even glanced his way that you’d be wrapped around his finger and that was exactly what he wanted. 

But he was the one who was so desperate for it that he pulled you out of your slumber just to have you, he was the one who started this whole mess in the first place, surely he’d be the one to break first. He’d probably only last four or five pumps of his right hand before crawling back to you, begging for you in ways you’d only dreamed of. 

And that all might have been true but you’d never know because all Matty had to do was moan once and you were caving, quick to turn over so you could watch the show he was so loudly putting on for you.

And my god, did he look downright filthy doing it. 

The duvet was thrown off of his body in a half hazard manner to fully expose his naked frame that was all too tempting. Your tongue thickens at the sight of his mouth dropped open in a long drawn out moan that was surely exaggerated, his face screwed in pleasure as his hand pumps his length slowly, precum already leaking from the tip and making you wonder what Matty could have possibly dreamed about to make him this desperate. 

“Matty.” His name falls off your tongue in a breathless whisper that makes him groan at the sound and you couldn’t help but feel envious of his own hand bringing him the pleasure and not yours. 

Though, you didn’t necessarily mind watching it all unfold. Even as the jealousy for his hand burned through your veins, the desire you felt for the man pleasuring himself under your watchful eye pooled even hotter between your thighs that clenched as a deep moan rips from his throat. 

You were mesmerized by the sight of him. The way his thick eyebrows furrowed with every moan fallen from his tongue. The way his dark eyes would roll when he’d squeeze the base a little before dragging back up to the tip. The way the veins in his hand flex with each passing pump and the way his face crumbles in pleasure at the sensation. He was impossible to pull your eyes away from. 

“Fuck.” Matty groans, his left leg twitches next to your thigh from the jolt of pleasure his hand brings him, hissing as he swipes his thumb over the tip. “Was dreaming about you.” He confirms in a ragged voice that has your thighs clenching all over again, cursing under his breath and barely heard through the slick sounds of him pumping himself. “Y-Your mouth.”

And oh, maybe you still held all the power after all. 

“Yeah?” Your own voice barely more than a whisper, biting your lip as you inch closer to the older man, the duvet falling down your frame as you slide your hand across the mattress until your fingertips are brushing against his arm. Matty twitches at the contact. “This what you usually do when you dream about me?” Your tone was innocent enough, a complete contrast to your hand that slides across his arm and down his abdomen until it joins over his own pumping himself, guiding his hand in a pace you deemed worthy. “About my mouth?”

“Fuck.” Matty groans, his dark eyes quick to fall on the sight of your hand over his own that guided his hand to pump his cock in a much more antagonizingly slow pace than he had set before. “Y-Yeah.” He nods, his curls tangling against the pillow beneath his head as your own leans forward enough to where you could press a kiss to his abdomen. “C-Can’t help it, you drive me so fucking crazy.”

“Oh, I know.” You mumble against his skin through a smile and a patronizing tone that has Matty desperate to pick up the speed of his hand over his length but your grip over his own prevents him from doing so. “You called me last time, remember?” 

You tease and the memory of your own hand between your thighs beneath the bedsheets as you listened to Matty whine and beg for you burns through your veins until you’re dizzy. 

“You couldn’t do it on your own, had to have me talk you through it.” Your lips grow more bold against his abdomen, trailing open mouth kisses as filthy as the desires in your mind down his stomach until his fingertips are brushing against your cheek with each passing pump. “Just like now, hm?” Your teeth graze over the rose tattooed on his lower stomach. “Can’t do it on your own, have to wake me up to do it for you.”  

“I can take care of it myself, sweetheart.” Matty argues with a smug grin that you wipe clean by licking over his rose tattoo. “But why would I want to when I have a perfectly filthy princess laying right next to me?”

And you couldn’t help the way your core clenches through the way you practically preen at his words, effectively knocking his own hand out of the way so you could fully take over his pleasure now and Matty groans at the feeling of your softer fist pumping his length. 

“How often?” You mumble against his skin, trailing open mouth kisses across his lower stomach until you’re peppering them up the length of his cock. 

“W-What?” Matty gasps, his dark eyes burning a hole through your head as you pump him slowly and kiss over the veins just as much. 

“How often do you dream about me?” You clarify, blinking up at him in an all too innocent way as your plump lips pout against his cock in a kiss that he crumbles at. “How many times have you wished your hand was my mouth instead?”

“Fuck, baby.” Matty groans, his cock twitching in your hold as your tongue sticks out to follow a vein up the side of his length. “E-Every time, been picturing you since the day I-I met you.” His words have a sinister image burning through your mind of a blonde head of hair between his thighs as he fights to not moan your name instead and you can’t help but hope he’s slipped up at least once as you kiss up his length. “But it’s never enough, never as good as you.”

And god, if that didn’t make the image burning through your mind travel down to pool between your legs until you were finally caving. 

“‘Course not.” You giggle, sliding your head down his cock to squeeze at the base before staring up at Matty’s with a smirk as you lean forward to kitten lick his tip and you weren’t quite sure if his dark eyes were rolling at your words or the pleasure he was already drunk on. “I could’ve told you that.”

Matty huffs out a laugh, shaking his head softly as his fingers thread through your hair in a way you can’t help but nuzzle into until you’re gasping from the quick pain of them twisting your strands. 

“No, it’s never as good when I don’t have a bratty fucking mouth to fill.” Matty coos, that condescending tone dripping off his tongue and letting you know that at the end of the day, he was always the one in control. “So maybe you should fill yours before you get too ahead of yourself.”

And while every stubborn bone in your body is screaming at you to stand your ground, to not cave and give him what he wants at the first tremble of dominance in his tone, to make him beg for you, you couldn’t. 

Not when he was looking at you like this, not when his fingers were threaded through your hair and tugging so sharply it sprung tears to your eyes. Not when his cock was already right in front of you, leaking precum and practically begging for you to lick it up.

The desire to please the older man burned through your veins more than what was pooled between your thighs and you couldn’t help but lean forward and cave to give Matty exactly what he wanted, like you always did. 

“Oh my god.” Matty groans, his stomach rising and falling in quick succession with the pants falling from his tongue as your mouth slides down his cock in a way that makes him breathless “Oh my- fuck, baby.” Matty whines, his fingers tugging on your hair out of instinct as you pull him in until your nose is brushing against your fingers still wrapped around the base of his cock. “S-Shit.”

You nearly smile around a mouth full at the desperation pouring from Matty’s tongue, swallowing around him before slowly pulling off of his length and pumping your hand over him in your absence. 

“What’s got you so worked up?” You pout, tilting your head to the side ever so slightly and relishing in the way Matty was already panting through pink stained cheeks. 

“Don’t tease me.” Matty says through a clenched jaw that tightens at the sight of you sticking your tongue out to swirl around his tip in an obscene manner that makes his cock twitch. “You- fuck, please don’t tease me, baby.” Matty begs as his fingers tighten in your hair, his tongue peeking out to lick over his bottom lip before pulling it between his teeth. “I-I need you, please, I- fuck.”

Matty gasps out a choked off moan at the feeling of your lips wrapping around his tip before sliding down his length once more, his face quick to crumble in pleasure when you obey his wishes and choose to bob your head in a brain melting rhythm as your hand pumps what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. 

“S-Shit, baby.” Matty whines, tossing his head back against the pillows in a moan pulled from his toes as you suck his cock as if you had something to prove. 

And really, you did. 

That insistent image of a blonde head of hair in your exact position right now fueled your need to give him a blowjob as filthy as your desire to ensure that she’d never be on her knees for him again without him thinking of you. 

Your eyes flutter shut as you focus on the task at hand, twisting your hand at the base of his cock while your head bobs in a perfect rhythm that pulls pitiful whines from Matty’s throat that you could barely hear over the obscene sound of you swallowing around him. 

“My god.” Matty groans, deep and rugged as his other hand comes to join his fingers already wrapped in your hair until all your strands are pulled into a messy ponytail to keep it out of your face while you work. “Fuck.”

You fight off a smile as you hallow your cheeks and bob your head a little faster before pulling off of him so you could take a deep breath, quick to pump your hand in the absence of your mouth that was still connected to his cock through a string of spit linked from your bottom lip to his tip. 

You glance up at the older man and he crumbles at the sight of you, gripping the makeshift ponytail a little tighter as he hisses. 

“Y-You’re so fucking pretty, baby.” Matty stutters through breathless pants as you pepper kisses down his length before tracing a vein up the side with your tongue and swallowing him back down. “Oh, f-fuck, princess.” He groans as his thigh twitches from the pleasure of you swallowing around him. “So fucking pretty with your mouth stuffed full of my cock.”

You couldn’t help but moan around his length as his filthy words wash over you and settle between your thighs that clenched in a desperate attempt to ease some of the ache between them. The vibrations only have Matty tightening his grip on your makeshift ponytail for some form of purchase as spit drools from the corners of your swollen lips from how filthy and obscene you were sucking him off. 

You pump what you couldn’t fit in your mouth a few more times before pulling your hand away in favor of taking a deep breath through your nose and relaxing your throat before sinking your throat down further and further on Matty’s cock until he’s whimpering and your nose is brushing against the hair on his abdomen.

“F-Fuck, I- oh my god.” Matty gasps, his grip on your hair tight as ever as you hold yourself in place and blink away the tears brimming at your eyes as you deepthroat him. “Shit, princess.” He whines, his thighs trembling beneath you as you swallow around him. “You take me so fucking well, baby girl, y-you’re so fucking good for me.” 

Matty brags and you practically preen, rewarding him by swallowing around his cock once more before pulling off of him long enough to catch a breath in a deep gasp that mirrors the one he releases when your swollen lips slide back over him. 

“Such a filthy fucking girl.” Matty groans, struggling to decide if he wanted to stare at your swollen lips wrapped around his cock, the spit pooling out the sides of them or the tears streaming down your face at the stretch of him. “My filthy girl.” He emphasizes and you couldn’t help but moan around him, earning a sharp tug at your hair as the sensation rolls through him. “Would spend all day on her knees sucking Daddy’s dick, wouldn’t she?”

You moan around his cock, nodding as best as you could with a mouth full and his tight grip in your hair as you continue to bob your head and wrap your fist back around his length to pump what you couldn’t fit. 

“Yeah?” Matty coos and his tone of voice is already enough to have your core clenching. “Maybe I should just hide you under my desk all day and keep that pretty mouth of yours busy while I’m in meetings.” Matty tugs on your hair sharply and you moan at the pain. “You’d be more productive that way.” 

Matty teases and you couldn’t help but graze your teeth softly against his cock before doubling your efforts over him, desperate to shut him up and knock him off of his power filled pedestal for once. 

The obscene sounds of you slurping around Matty’s cock echo off the walls bounce back to settle between your thighs that were surely dripping with as much desperation as the spit drooling from your mouth as you bob your head faster, pump him quicker, pulling out all the stops to make him fall apart down your throat. You woke up craving the taste. 

“Fuck me.” Matty groans, tossing his head back in a long, drawn out moan before rolling it to the side so he could watch the show you were putting on for him. “I-I- shit, princess, oh my god.” He hisses, tightening his hold on your makeshift ponytail and pulling so harshly it springs a fresh set of tears to your eyes as he pants through breathless moans. “F-Fuck, baby, I’m s-so fucking close.”

And you couldn’t help but take a page out of Matty’s own book and pull off his length just in time to make him whine at the loss, to drive him crazy as you blink up at him innocently and tease. “Already?”

Matty’s fingers tighten in your hair and thrill creeps up your spine at the dangerous look in his eye as his cock twitches in your hand that still pumps him slowly. 

“Don’t get fucking smart.” Matty warns through a hard face that crumbles when you lean forward to kitten lick his tip that was red and leaking precum. “Fuck, get up here.” Matty groans, tugging on your hair in an attempt to pull you up towards him and repeating the action a little harsher when you just stare up at him in confusion. “Come on, don’t make me say it again.” 

And while your eyebrows were still furrowed in confusion, you’re quick to obey and scramble to climb up Matty’s body through his hands tangled in your hair that guided you. Matty releases the makeshift ponytail he had made in your hair in favor of settling his hands down at your waist and manhandling you until you were in a position he deemed fit. 

“Don’t wanna cum down your throat, baby.” Matty explains as your knees settle on either side of his hips as he grips your own in one hand while his other trails between the two of you to take hold of his cock, pumping it once or twice before guiding it between your legs and running his tip through your dripping core in a way that makes you crumble through a gasp. “Wanna cum inside of you.”

And whatever words you were about to say get ripped from your throat and replaced by a gasp at the feeling of Matty slowly pushing inside of you, the hand he had used to guide himself was now holding your other hip and gripping the area so tightly you feared it might bruise as he bottoms out in you. 

Your mouth was dropped open in a long drawn out moan as you adjust to the burning stretch of his length inside of you, your face screwed in pleasure as your manicured nails dig into the heart tattooed on Matty’s chest as you grow accustomed to the feeling, gasping from a loose jaw when you clench around him softly. 

“Fuck me, you feel so good.” Matty groans through breathless pants, his mouth curved in a lazy smile as his dark eyes scan over your frame shamelessly. “So fucking pretty when you’re sitting on my cock.”

“Matty.” You sigh, clenching around him tighter now as you dig your nails a little harsher into his chest, your face screwed in pain mixed pleasure at how full you felt. 

“I know, baby.” Matty coos, using the grip he has on your hips to lift you ever so slightly and drop you back down, you both shiver at the pleasure it brings. “Fuck.” Matty groans, his blunt fingernails digging into the flesh until your eyes are locked with his own that fall down into a wink as he smugly teases. “As you were.”

You roll your eyes softly and blush at the implications as you slowly drag your nails down Matty’s chest and sit up a little straighter, staring down at the older man as if you held all the power in the world as you roll your hips in an experimental way that makes his face crumble. 

And oh, how you’d love to see that again. 

You dig your manicured nails into his stomach a little meaner now as you lift your hips up just enough to drop back down and pull a rough moan from his throat, the sound settles in your core and encourages you to repeat the action a little quicker now, desperate to draw more out of him and quick to find a rhythm that gave both of you exactly what you wanted. 

“Fuck, that’s it.” Matty coos. “There she is.” He brags as his dark eyes slowly fall down your frame to settle on the way he was disappearing inside of you, relishing in the view for a few passing bounces before his dark eyes are back on your own. “There’s my good little girl.”

“Matty.” You gasp out his name and the corners of his mouth twitch at the sound, something you knock loose by leaning forward just enough to raise your hips until it was just his tip inside of you before slamming back down on his length in a way that pulls a guttural groan from both of you. 

“Baby.” Matty whines, his blunt fingernails digging into the flesh of your hips as you lift and drop them in a dizzying manner. “Fuck, baby, you feel so fucking good.” Matty praises through a moan that has you feeling on top of the world, practically preening on top of him as you ride him with a little more fever now. “Love watching you bounce on my cock.”

And you couldn’t help but crumble a little bit, clenching around his length as you dig your nails into his chest, your rhythm falters a bit and you have to take a deep breath before falling back into it as delicious and mind numbing as before. 

You’d lost count on how many times you’ve rode Matty into his office chair, most of the time with his right hand wrapped around your throat and his left sticking two fingers in your mouth to keep your sounds at bay so you didn’t get caught. Or how many times you’ve bounced in his lap in the backseat of his car during your lunch break on days he didn’t think he could keep you quiet. But you’ve never rode him like this, laid out in a bed, fully in control. 

You slowly trail your manicured nails down his stomach until they were running up your thighs instead, traveling up your own stomach until your hands were capturing your bouncing tits in palms that Matty couldn't be more envious of, his dark eyes glued to the way your hands squeezed your tits as you bounce on his cock in perfect rhythm. 

“What happened to that smart mouth of yours, hm?” The condescending tone drips from his tongue and makes your core clench around him in a way that makes him moan. “I stuff you full with my cock and suddenly you can’t do anything but moan and whimper?”

“Still- fuck.” You cut yourself off to moan, nearly proving his point as you squeeze your tits to relieve some of the pressure and start again. “Still here.” You promise, staring down at him with a wicked gleam in your eye as you tease. “Because I’m still doing all the work.” You emphasize by rolling your hips in a sinful manner as you point out, “I’m fucking you.”

Matty huffs out a laugh and tightens his grip on your hips and really, you should’ve known that was the beginning of the end. 

“Yeah? You think so?” He raises a thick brow, almost challenging you, a smirk slowly breaking out on his face when you nod in response. Matty tsks. “You’re cute.”

Matty plants his feet on the mattress and holds onto your hips tightly as he fucks into you so deeply that you nearly felt him in your stomach. 

“Matty.” You gasp out, face screwed in pleasure when he snaps his hips up into your own yet again before quickly finding a rhythm that puts you back in your place. “Fuck.”

“Yeah, I thought so.” Matty practically boasts as he fucks into you with such precision that it was hard to do much of anything other than moan and crumble into him, barely catching yourself on the headboard that you grip tightly as his cock drills into you. 

Your tits hang in Matty’s face at this angle, bouncing with each and every thrust the older man fixed you with and if he tilted his head up just enough he’d be able to-

“Oh my god.” You practically whine as his tongue swirls over your hardened nipple before wrapping his lips around the bud and sucking until your eyes are rolling back. “F-Fuck, Matty.”

Matty hums around your nipple, his eyes staring up into yours as his cheeks hollow out from the way he was sucking on your tits as he fucks into you with fever, the mattress squeaking beneath the two of you as you hold ont the headboard tightly for support through it all. 

“So fucking full.” You nearly slur out, so drunk on pleasure that your vision starts to blur. “C-Can feel you in my stomach.”

And almost as though he wanted to test your theory, Matty’s right hand slips away from your hip in favor of spreading out over your stomach just to feel the way it bulges with each passing thrust. Matty smirks against your tit at the feeling and can’t help but press down on your stomach just enough to heighten the feeling of him fucking into you until your arms were shaking and you were a whimpering mess. 

“F-Fuck.” You whine through breathless pants, swallowing down a moan when Matty’s teeth graze over your nipple before swirling delicious circles around it as you attempt to meet his thrusts before eventually giving up and succumbing to the pleasure he was providing. “You know, f-for an old man, your ability to hold off from cumming is actually quite impressive.”

And you weren’t even trying to be a brat this time, it was impressive. A few minutes ago Matty was about to spill down your throat and now it seemed as though he was hell bent on making you fall apart first as his hand pressed down over your stomach trails down lower until his thumb was swirling over your swollen, neglected clit. 

A pitiful whine rips from your throat at the relief and you couldn’t help but become rather dizzy from the feeling of his lips wrapped around your nipple, his cock drilling inside of you and now his thumb swirling tight circles over your clit. You were nearly overwhelmed by all the pleasure coursing through you. 

You stare into Matty’s dark eyes that gleam back up at you and fall into a wink and the sight makes one of your hands fall from the headboard in favor of wrapping around his throat. 

It was a position you had found yourself in many times before, Matty’s hand around your throat, but the roles had never been reversed before. 

You give Matty’s neck a soft, experimental squeeze and the older man practically growls against your tit at the feeling, his dark eyes rolling back softly as he doubles his efforts over you and barrels you closer and closer to the edge. 

“Fuck, Matty, I-I’m so fucking close.” You pant, the headboard slamming against the wall in tandem with the powerful thrusts he was fixing you with as his thumb swirls over your clit in tight circles alongside his tongue over your nipple. “I-I’m so- fuck.” You whine, that all too familiar heat climbing up your spine and making you feel numb as you succumb to the pleasure. “M-Matty, I- ah!”

The chord inside of you snaps and you’re falling apart on Matty’s cock, mouth and fingers so intensely that you nearly blackout as your mouth falls open in a silent moan while your orgasm rips through you. 

Your body shakes uncontrollably as Matty continues to fuck you brutally, his hips still drilling, mouth still sucking, thumb still swirling all while your high crashes into you. You could do nothing but lay there and take it while squeezing Matty’s neck for some form or purchase while it all washes over you. 

You weren’t sure if it was due to the inability to hold out any longer, the way your walls were fluttering around his cock as you fell apart on top of him or the way your hand was still wrapped around his throat that sent him over the edge, but he only lasted two more thrusts before he was following in the footsteps of your body that was still trembling through the aftershocks. 

Matty pulled off your tit with a pop in favor of tossing his head back in a deep, guttural groan as he spilled inside of you, his hands quick to find home at your hips to hold you in place as his own body convulsed through a high that he’d been chasing since the dream he had about you. 

You loosen the grip you had on his neck but kept your hand resting there as you watched Matty’s eyes roll back as the waves of his orgasm rolled through him, a pitiful whine ripped from his throat as you clenched around his length to milk him for all that he was worth. You felt more full than ever still stuffed with Matty’s cock and now his cum too, maybe you were filthy after all. 

“Fucking hell.” Matty groans, his head tipped back to stare up at the ceiling as the final waves of his high roll through him, the Adam's apple in his throat bobbing as he swallows thickly through desperate pants. He rolls his head to the side now to look at you with eyes half lidded and still full of lust, the corners of his mouth twitching up into a smirk as he teases. “Where did that come from?”

You could tell by the gleam in his eye what exactly he was referring to, your hand wrapped around his throat and you couldn’t help but blush. Your cheeks were as hot as the desire for him still burned through you as you stared down at him beneath you, clenching around his length still buried deep within you until he’s groaning and digging blunt fingernails into your flesh. 

You shrug, tracing over the lines of ink tattooed on his chest faintly with your fingertip as you will the pink tint burning your cheeks away. “Felt inspired.”

“Hm.” Matty hums, his mouth twitched into a half smile now as his dark eyes scan down your body quickly as his thumbs rub soothing circles over your hips. “Crazy move to pull out for the first time at this hour.” He teases and you weren’t sure if your blush would ever fade as he pinches your hip softly until you’re looking at him again, his dark eyes quick to fall into a wink. “Not that I mind.”

You huff out a laugh, rolling your eyes softly as you mindlessly trace over the heart tattooed on his chest. “What time is it? You never told me.”

Matty hesitates, almost as if he feared your reaction as he mumbles. “5:17.”

Your mouth drops open in a gasp and the hand that had been tracing his tattoos softly comes to smack him on the chest. “You woke me up at five in the morning just to fuck me?”

“Technically you woke up on your own.” Matty defends through a shit-eating grin that makes you want to smack his face instead but you refrain. His hands rub up and down your sides as he tilts his head and coaxes you into forgiving him. “Can’t help it, was craving you.”

“Yeah, ‘cause it’s not like you haven’t had me enough already.” You scoff, rolling your eyes once more while Matty just smiles through it all. 

“Never get enough of you.” Matty argues, rolling his hips enough to make you feel his length that was still inside of you and you fight to ignore the desire already pooling back in your stomach. 

“Don’t get any ideas, mister.” You scold, raising your eyebrow at the older man as you clench around him once more. “I’m going back to sleep until at least seven.”

“Or we could go shower,” Matty offers, capturing your wrist in his hand to bring up to his mouth so he could kiss the inside of it, mumbling against it. “let me clean you up.”

And while the idea was tempting and the feeling of his lips on your wrist had you nearly ready to fold again so soon, you couldn’t help but give him a hard time. 

“I don’t know.” You drag the words out in a song-like manner. “We don’t have to be at work for hours.”

“Well, then that’s plenty of time for me to make it worth your while.” Matty counters with a smug grin spread on his face as if he already knows he’s won because of course he has. “C’mon,” he pinches your hip, tilting his head towards the direction of the bathroom door, surely already planning what position he was going to put you in. “I’ll even cook you breakfast after.”

And how could you possibly say no to that?”

—

“Shit, I’m so sorry.” The words come out in a rushed panicked as Matty grabs the nearest dish towel and starts to scrub over your blouse where the dark liquid was already soaking in. 

Matty had kept his end of the deal and made you breakfast after your long and steamy shower together, leaving you to get ready for the day alone in his bathroom while he cheffed away in the kitchen. The two of you shared the meal over flushed cheeks and tangled feet until it was nearly time to head into the office, quickly cleaning up and sharing a kiss near the sink that sent Matty’s elbow into the mug of coffee in your hands to spill all over your blouse. 

“It’s okay, it’s fine.” You assure through a wince as the hot coffee seeps into your shirt and slightly burns your skin. You watch Matty frantically try and clean you up, his thick eyebrows knit tightly to concentrate as he continues to mumble apologies while getting practically nowhere in getting the stain out. “It’s not going to come out.”

“No, it is, it will.” Matty nods, full of determination as he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and reaches to run the dish towel under some water before bringing it back to your blouse, you hiss at the cold feeling. “Fuck, can you just take it off?” And you shoot him a pointed look that Matty just smiles at in response, shrugging as he winks. “So I can get a better grip.”

You roll your eyes but ultimately cave, not wanting to be the subject of all Matty’s scrubbing any longer. You huff as you unbutton your blouse enough to pull it over your head, smacking Matty in the chest with the shirt when his eyebrows raise at the sight of you standing in his kitchen in nothing but a bra and a pencil skirt.

“You know, on second thought, I don’t even think you need a shirt.” Matty practically drools as his dark eyes scan over your chest as if it’s his first time seeing your tits even though he’d had them in his mouth for most of the weekend. 

“Yeah?” You cross your arms over your chest and Matty nods slowly, his eyes locked in on the way your stance pushes your tits up higher. “Well, I’m sure Luke would love to see that.”

And that was enough to snap Matty out of it, the older man quick to take your blouse and lay it down over the counters to try and scrub it out more roughly now that it wasn’t on your body. 

It takes Matty all of a minute to huff and admit defeat. 

“Okay, fine.” He sighs, tossing the dish towel off to the side. “You were right, it's not coming out.” 

“I always am.” You boast, giggling when Matty just rolls his eyes in response. “It’s fine, I can just run home really quick and grab another one.”

Matty stands before you deep in thought, his thick eyebrows nearly quivering as he mulls over an unknown decision in his head before nodding to himself and holding up a finger at you. “Wait here.”

Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion faster than Matty can even take a step away from you. “Where are you going?”

It’s a question that remains unanswered, a question you couldn’t wait any longer to know the answer to as you follow him blindly into his bedroom just in time to see him pulling a pink blouse from the closet. 

You freeze almost immediately, staring at the baby pink fabric held on a hanger between his fingertips and stare at the older man as if he’s grown two heads. 

“Are you serious?” You nearly laugh, glancing back and forth between Matty and the pink blouse. “Is that hers?”

You couldn’t bring yourself to say her name. Not when you had spent the weekend in her apartment, sleeping in her bed. Not when you had just eaten breakfast on her plates, using up the last of her milk. Not when you were standing in her bedroom, staring at a shirt that you were almost positive belonged to her. 

“Well, it’s not mine.” Matty tries to joke, already removing the pink blouse from its hanger and holding it out to you. “Here, you can wear this.”

“I’m not wearing that, are you crazy?” You scoff, taking half a step back and staring at Matty with wide eyes that grow even bigger when Matty looks back at you as if he’s confused as to why you wouldn’t want to. “That’s your girlfriend's shirt, Matty.”

“I know.” Matty nods slowly as if he still doesn’t see your point. “But I don’t see what the big deal is, she hasn’t worn it in ages.” He shrugs, wiggling the shirt in his hands to tempt you to take it. “It’s shoved all the way in the back of her closet, she won’t even notice it’s missing.”

You couldn’t help but notice his refusal to speak the blonde's name, you didn’t know if it was his own conscience or him just following in your footsteps. 

“Or we could avoid the possibility altogether and I could just go home real quick and change?” You offer a plan that seems much more appealing than wearing something that belongs to Farrah. Even the idea of going down the block and buying a new shirt seemed like a better idea than wearing hers. 

“But then you’ll be late.” Matty argues, his thick eyebrows furrowed in concern. 

“Well, it’s not like Thomas is going to reprimand me.” You shoot back and can’t help but smile at the pointed look Matty throws back, the slight clench in his jaw, the way his fingers tighten ever so slightly on the pink blouse. 

“Of course he won’t, he’d never punish his gold star girl.” Matty spits off with a roll of his eyes that you couldn’t help but giggle at. “But if you’re going to take advantage of the favoritism Thomas has for you, wouldn’t you rather be late because I had my head between your thighs?”

“Matty…” His name falls off your tongue in a warning that he ignored, his long legs already making slow strides towards you and you didn’t even consider backing up. “We don’t have time for this.”

“We don’t if you leave.” Matty nods, the corners of his mouth twitching up into a smirk as he comes to stand right in front of you, raising his eyebrow as he offers the temptation on a silver platter. “But if you stay…” 

He trails off, dropping to his knees in the middle of his bedroom at your feet and your stomach practically does a somersault at the sight. He rests the pink blouse over his  own thigh and his hot hands are quick to travel up the side of your leg, fingertips brushing under the hem of your skirt to push it up a little higher so he could lean in to place a kiss at the middle of your thigh that trembles at the contact. 

“Matty, we can’t-” You attempt to stand some ground but Matty is quick to interrupt you. 

“C’mon baby.” He mumbles the plea against your flesh, grazing his teeth over the area before biting down softly in a way that makes your thighs clench, the action doesn’t go unnoticed by the older man. “Just wear the shirt and let me have my way with you.” His hands travel deeper beneath your skirt, his mouth leaving open mouth kisses up the expanse of your thigh and raising goosebumps in its path as his fingertips toy with the waistband of your black thong that you had just put on half an hour ago. “We won’t even be that late. You know I can get you there fast, won’t even need to use my hands.”

You could almost feel the smug smile spreading across his face against your inner thigh as he brags about his ability that you both know he’s more than capable of. And while you had a gnawing feeling in your gut to just go home and change, the overwhelming tingle of Matty placing a soft kiss over your clothed core outweighed your intuition and you found yourself threading your fingers through his already styled curls and caving. 

“Fine, give me the shirt.” You huff, tugging on his hair as some form of punishment for making you agree as you accept the pink blouse that the older man blindly holds up for you to take. You slip your arms through the holes and try to ignore the fact that the blouse was a perfect fit as Matty hooks one of your legs over his shoulder and slowly pulls your thong to the side. “Just try not to wrinkle it while you’re down there.”

—

Shockingly, you and Matty were only a sensible fifteen minutes late to work. 

And it wasn’t shocking because Matty lacked the skill to make you fall apart quickly, but because he didn’t let up when you were falling apart the first time. He didn’t pull his head away from between your thighs until he was satisfied from you crumbling on his tongue twice and you hated the smug smirk plastered on his glistening lips when he finally pulled back because he had made you cum twice in the matter of minutes and he didn’t even use his hands. 

Matty walked in first and you followed a sensible seven minutes behind, knowing Thomas would be more lenient on you for being later. And while you were pretty positive nobody around the office knew about the little affair the two of you had going on, but you couldn’t help but feel like a giant spotlight was placed on you as you walked through the cubicles to make your way into your own office. 

You couldn’t ignore all the stares as you walked by. Jill the receptionist, who looked you up and down when you first stepped out of the elevator. Maeve and Alyssa from accounting, who were whispering until you got too close and then stopped to stare. Even Luke’s eyes lingered on you for a second too long as you walked past his cubicle and made your way down the corridor. 

Christ, could they smell him on you?

Because their lingering stares and hushed whispers were most likely innocent and had nothing to do with you, but you couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that everyone knew. 

And while that was an impossible conclusion for them to draw from something so simple, it wasn’t a crime to show up to work seven minutes later than your coworker, the burning stares as you walked by had you feeling as though maybe you should have sat in Matty’s car for another fifteen first. 

You had finished the walk to your office at a faster pace, quickly shutting the door and locking yourself in with the goal of keeping your distance from Matty for the rest of the day. Because while you were certain you were just on edge, you couldn’t risk it, terrified that a coworker would see the two of you standing by one another and be able to sense that you had just spent the entire weekend being bent over every surface of Matty’s apartment. 

You had made pretty good work of keeping to yourself all morning, quickly becoming lost in paperwork and spreadsheets and losing track of time until three knocks at your door pulled you out of concentration, not even waiting for you to give the okay to come in before opening your office door slowly. 

You sigh, grabbing a stack of papers off the top of your desk and straightening them just to keep your hands busy. 

“Matty, I don’t have time for- Oh!” You glance over at the door and stop dead in your tracks, thankful that you didn’t wait a second longer to look at who was walking into your office before finishing that sentence. “Hey!” 

Your voice was a higher pitch than normal as you shot a forced smile that you could only hope hid the way your face surely fell and paled at the sight of Farrah standing in your doorway. 

“Hey!” Farrah gives you a soft wave and it takes everything in you not to hurl all over your desk just from the sight of her. 

“You’re back early.” It’s the first thing that comes to your mind and you immediately shake your head softly at how stupid you sound, so thrown off by the blonde’s presence that you couldn’t even function properly, quick to give an excuse as to why you’d know that information. “M-Matty mentioned you were coming home tonight, he’s really excited.”

The bile rises up your throat as the lie spills off your tongue, somehow upset over something you had just made up on the spot because what if it was true? What if he was excited to see her?

“Yeah, yeah, I um…” Farrah trails off, her eyes falling to the ground quickly before sighing and bringing them back up to look at you, giving you a smile just as forced as your own. “I’m home.”

You nod slowly, heart racing in your chest as the two of you stare at one another for what felt like an eternity. You were unsure if you had even taken a breath the entire time, desperate to fill the silence in the room and find out why Farrah had come knocking on your door instead of her boyfriends. 

“I’m pretty sure Matty’s in his office right now.” You speak softly, hopeful that she doesn’t notice the tremor in your tone as you try and make a joke to ease the ache in your own chest at the sight of the blonde. “I don’t think you’d be interrupting him or anything, he’s probably just playing solitaire or fucking around on Google.”

The two of you share a giggle and the mixture makes you feel sick. 

“Oh, he’s not.” Farrah waves you off. “He’s um- he’s in a meeting right now. At least, that’s what Jill told me anyway.” The blonde laughs softly and rolls her eyes just as much, picking at the skin around her fingernails as she swallows thickly. “I actually came to talk to you.”

Oh.

You feel dizzy from how quickly your heart drops to your stomach, your ears practically ringing as your heart beats wildly in your chest as the possibilities of what Farrah could possibly be here to talk to you about whirl around in your mind and they all lead back to the same conclusion, she knows. 

“Oh, yeah, of course! Come in.” Your voice is a little too enthusiastic to be deemed natural as you shake your head softly and shift in your office chair to sit more comfortably, suddenly feeling as though you were under a giant microscope as Farrah takes a step further into your office, already closing the door behind her before you have the chance to give her the permission. “You can shut the- okay, perfect, you already did.” You laugh softly, smoothing out sweaty palms on your thighs before gesturing towards the empty chair in front of your desk. “Have a seat, make yourself comfortable.”

Farrah nods and follows directions with ease, wiping her own hands on her hips before taking a deep breath and sitting down in the chair across from you while you are stuck holding your breath as you wait for the blonde to finally clue you in as to why she was here so you could stop drawing your own conclusions. 

It takes half a minute of silence and a deep breath before she finally does.

Farrah sighs. “Do you remember the other day when you caught me in Matty’s office drunk?” 

Oh, god. How could you forget? Images of purple lace blur through your mind and oh my god you were about to be sick everywhere. 

“Tipsy.” You nod, mimicking the way Farrah had corrected you when you deemed her as drunk that night and thankfully the joke lands. The blonde huffs out a laugh, you couldn’t help but follow suit and for a second she’s just a girl. “Yeah, I remember.” You nod and quickly assure, “but don’t worry, I-I haven’t said anything to Thomas or anyone about it. I won’t.” You reiterate the genuine promise you had given her a few nights ago. “We said we’d-”

“Forget about it, right.” Farrah finishes for you with a slight nod and a hefty sigh. “And we will, I promise, it’s just-” The blonde cuts herself off to tip her head towards the ceiling, rubbing her hands over her face quickly before facing you again, hesitating before dropping the bomb on you. “You know how I said that I thought Matty was cheating on me?”

The question hits you like a freight train, barely even heard over the ringing in your ears and insistent pound of your heart. You swallow thickly, nervously, practically gulping as you nod. 

“Y-Yeah, I remember.” The nerves clear in your tone, desperate to save yourself from what felt like the inevitable as you try and shift the direction this conversation was headed. “I told you that I really didn’t think that he was and-”

“And I believed you!” Farrah interrupts again and your stomach rolls with nausea. “I-I thought I was crazy.” A laugh full of self pity falls off her tongue as she shakes her head softly, her blue eyes pinning you to your office chair. “But I don’t think I’m so crazy anymore.”

You feel dizzy, your heart nearly beating out of your chest and landing on the desk between the two of you as you stare into the blonde’s teary eyes and the reality of the situation comes crashing down over you. 

She knows.

“Oh.” Your voice barely more than a whisper, full of a nervous tremble that rattles down your spine as you build up the courage to ask. “What changed?”

“Well, I got home from my trip about an hour ago.” Farrah sighs as she retraces her steps. “And as soon as I walked in it just felt-” The blonde hesitates and you hold your breath. “Off, you know?” You nod, willing her to get on with it before your stomach spills all over your desk. “The apartment was clean, too clean.”

And that might have been due to the extensive work you and Matty had put in to ensure there wouldn’t be a trace left of you behind before you set off to work this morning. Refolding blankets, taking out the trash, you even scanned the couch extra hard for any stray hairs left between the cushions. 

“It felt like he was trying to hide something, someone.” Farrah laughs half heartedly, her blue eyes rolling slightly. “He honestly did a pretty nice job. I probably would have assumed that the clean apartment was just him doing something nice for me to come home to if he hadn’t forgotten one little thing.”

Your stomach drops down to your toes. 

Did you overlook a thong left in the middle of his bedroom? Had you forgotten your tube of mascara on his bathroom counter? Was there an earring lost and tangled in his bedsheets?

“There were two wine glasses left in the kitchen sink.” Farrah delivers her evidence and it hits you like a blow to the chest, a bitter laugh falling from her glossed lips as she shakes her head. “What an idiot.”

Your eyes squeeze shut for a split second. How could neither of you think of that? After all that time spent cleaning up this morning, checking every detail, you were about to get caught over something so simple, so obvious. 

“Maybe they were both his, just from different nights?” You suggest weakly with a pounding heart, guilt pooling in your veins as you try and convince her she’s reading into things when in reality your fingerprints were all over the glass. “I mean, you were gone for two days, right? Maybe he just had a drink each night and felt too lazy to clean it up.”

You felt awful making excuses for the man you knew was guilty, guilt pumping through your veins with each pound of your racing heart. Sneaking around was a lot more fun when you weren’t face to face with the victim. 

“No, I think he had someone over this weekend.” Farrah is quick to shut you down, so sure of herself and it doesn’t go unnoticed that she says someone instead of pointing the blame on you. “I-I don’t know who or how he had the time to find someone when he fucking lives up here and-“ The blonde cuts herself off as if a lightbulb just went off in her head and your heart drops, holding your breath as you wait for the inevitable blow. “are you sure it’s not Maeve?”

And suddenly you could breathe again, air reaching down to your lungs for the first time since Farrah stepped into your office. 

This whole time you’ve been holding your breath and preparing for her to jump across the desk to maul you for sleeping with her boyfriend, this whole time you were convinced she knew that it was you and she in reality, she had no idea. 

“I know it sounds crazy because I have no evidence against Maeve other than how she was staring at him at the Christmas party, I just-” Farrah sighs, defeated. “are you positive that it’s not her?” She asks again, the desperation clear in her tone. “I don’t know why, I just have this gut feeling about her. I mean she is his type and…”

You couldn’t help but tune Farrah out after that. You didn’t want to hear how Maeve, who was nearly a carbon copy of Farrah, was his type when you looked like neither of them. 

It was almost comical at this point, how Farrah could still sit there and never assume that you were the other woman. 

Because if she’d just take a step back, she’d realize that she has all the evidence right in front of her, something stronger than a gut feeling. 

Farrah was so busy watching Maeve watch Matty at the Christmas party that she didn’t even realize that Matty was watching you and the way your nearly too short dress rode up on your thigh when you crossed your legs in a way that flashed him your red thong and was all too tempting. 

Yes, she was right, Matty did live up at the office. How would he possibly have time to find someone to cheat on her with when he’s always at work? So yes, it has to be someone he works with. 

And no, it wasn’t Stephanie from HR or the new temp that you hadn’t been bothered to learn the name of yet and it sure as hell wasn’t fucking Maeve from accounting. It was you. 

You were the one she nearly caught with his cum all over your face just a few nights ago, you were the one who had spent the entire weekend getting railed every which way all over her apartment, you were the one she’d taste if she went and kissed Matty right now because you were the one who’d been fucking her boyfriend for ten months.

All the evidence was right there, right under her nose and somehow she was completely blind to all of it and so dead set on a girl he’d probably spoken five words to. And for a brief second, you almost consider blaming it all on Maeve just to ensure you were in the clear and buy you and Matty some more time. 

But at the same time, you wanted her to know. You wanted to grab her face and scream at her. It’s me. It’s ME. IT'S ME. She shouldn’t be thankful to catch you alone with Matty after office hours, she shouldn’t be confiding in you about her rocky relationship, she shouldn’t be convincing herself that it’s anyone but you because she had all the proof right at her fingertips. 

She just had to open her eyes and see it for herself. And maybe she never would, maybe that was a good thing, maybe you can come out of this clean and free from any blame. 

“Which would make sense as to why he sent me away this weekend, I should’ve fucking known.” Farrah sighs, holding her hand up to her forehead, laughing at herself. “God, I am such an idiot.”

You finally tune back into Farrah’s rant just in time to catch a small detail that had your heart dropping all over again. 

“Wait a second, he sent you away?” You couldn’t help but question, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you stared at the blonde and shook your head softly. “I thought you were out of town to visit your family in Pennsylvania?” It doesn’t go unnoticed the way Farrah’s eyes squint ever so slightly and you’re quick to cover up your reasoning for knowing that “M-Matty mentioned it to Thomas and I overheard.”

Which was a lie, of course. Matty told you himself that’s where Farrah was, two hours away in a different state because it was her mother’s birthday. 

“No?” The confusion in Farrah’s tone matches the way it’s written all over her face. “My family lives in Brooklyn?” And you could practically see the wheels turning in the blonde's head. “I was in Pennsylvania because Matty sent me away on a spa weekend to the Poconos to make up for being such a shitty boyfriend the past few months.”

And oh my god you were about to be sick all over again because Matty lied to you. He didn’t invite you to stay at his apartment this weekend because it happened to be empty, Farrah was gone because he planned for her to be. This entire weekend was meticulously thought out to get her out of the house and you into it without either of you batting an eye and it worked. 

“Which at the time seemed like a sweet gesture even though I was confused as to why he wasn’t coming with me, you know?” Farrah squints, tilting her head to the side. “If he was planning this trip to say sorry for being such a shitty boyfriend then you’d think he’d come with me but he didn’t and now I’m realizing that’s because he didn’t send me away to apologize.” The blonde laughed bitterly, as if it was all finally clicking in her head and it took everything in your power not to spill all over the desk between you. “He sent me away to have our apartment all to himself so he could have a girl over.” Her blue eyes stare at you wide and all knowing, brimmed with tears as she nods. “Matty’s cheating on me.”

You couldn't even dwell on the fact that Farrah had fully, finally come to the realization that Matty was in fact cheating on her all this time because you were so busy spiraling about how he had lied to you and why?

Why would he lie to you about where Farrah was? Why would it matter if she had left Manhattan on her own or if he sent her there himself? What was the reasoning behind Matty making you believe she was away at her parents in Pennsylvania when they didn’t even live there and she was actually at a spa unless he was lying to you about more than just her location. Planning a spa getaway as an apology for being a shitty boyfriend sure didn’t sound like a man who planned on ending a relationship. 

“I should have known when he only answered my calls in the middle of the night while she was probably sleeping in my bed.” Farrah scoffs, you could practically see the wheels turning in her mind as the past ten months all come back to her in a new light. “Hell, I should have known when he stopped fucking me months ago.” Her blue eyes roll, a hefty sigh falling from her glossed lips. “I knew something was wrong. He’s been different ever since that night we almost broke up and he came home from the bar with fucking glitter on his neck.”

Your heart drops. 

You remember that night vividly. Your back pressed to the wall of a dive bar bathroom, legs wrapped around Matty’s waist as he fucked you fast and filthy, the shimmering glitter lipgloss you had chosen to wear that night left as evidence on his neck when the two of you parted ways without even exchanging phone numbers. You didn’t even think you’d ever see him again. 

And while Matty didn’t necessarily lie to you that night because you never actually asked him if he had a girlfriend or not, you just assumed he was single by the way his hand brushed against your thigh as he bought you a drink, you couldn’t shake the fact that he had lied about Farrah's location and were desperate to find out if he had lied about anything else.

You think back on the morning after Farrah nearly caught the two of you, how Matty had come groveling into your office to apologize for the blonde being there and swearing that he didn’t fuck her in his office because he hadn’t fucked her at all. ‘Not since we started.’ You recall him promising. 

You had to know. 

“How long?” You couldn’t help but ask, terrified to know the answer. “H-How many months has it been since the two of you-” You cut yourself off, not even able to bring yourself to say it. “you know.”

Ten months. That’s how long it’s been since the two of you started, that’s how long it should be since he’s touched Farrah. ‘I wouldn’t do that to you.’ He promised and practically begged you to believe him and you did. Ten months. Please say ten months. 

“Three.” Farrah says through a pitiful, breathy laugh and you could practically feel the world beneath you crumbling. “We haven't slept together in three months, can you believe that?” No, you couldn’t. “A-And it’s not like I haven’t tried, believe me, I have he just- he doesn’t want me anymore.” 

It took everything in your power to not fall apart right then and there. Why would he lie to you about something like that? Why would he lie completely unprompted? You didn’t even ask him how long it had been, he lied to you for no reason and for what? Just so you’d forgive him? Has he just been a master manipulator all this time?

“You know, I disregarded the glitter on his neck when he came home that night because at least he came home to me at all, right?” Farrah’s voice was choked up, her eyes wet. “I-I didn’t want to believe that he cheated on me because I love him and if he came home to me that meant he wanted to be with me. I-I told myself that he loves me, he would never cheat on me.” 

You couldn’t help the way your own eyes teared up, quick to blink them away as the guilt consumes you. 

“But now I’m really thinking about it and maybe it’s not Maeve after all.” And your heart starts to race all over again. “Maybe he did meet some girl at the bar that night and they’ve been sneaking around my back this entire time.”

And if Farrah doesn’t stop talking she’s about to figure it all out. 

Suddenly it felt hard to breathe, as if your office walls were closing in on you, practically suffocating you as the past ten months full of lies and deceit all come crashing down on you. 

“Oh my god, that’s why we haven’t been back to that bar since that night.” Farrah continues word vomiting all the revelations she was having while you were forced to swallow down bile as you come to terms with your own. “That’s why he- oh my god, I am so fucking stupid.” Farrah practically pulls her hair out. “Do you think she works there? D-Do you think she even knows about me?”

You felt dizzy, your stomach twisting with such intense nausea that your face was surely green, your eyes swelled with tears you prayed wouldn’t fall as you shake your head softly. 

“N-Not at first, I- she-“ Your voice was breathy even in your panicked state, shaking your head more intensely now to stop yourself from slipping up. “I-I didn’t- I-I don’t think she knew about you when it started, no.” You swallow thickly, wiping sweaty palms on your thighs and shaking your head vigorously when the first tear falls. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t-“ The words nearly slip out, the guilt practically eating you alive as you stare into Farrah’s eyes. “know. I-I didn’t know. And by the time I did it was too late and I- fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-“

“What?” Farrah interrupts, concern written all over her face as she takes in your panicked state. “Are you okay?” And the question only springs more tears to fall from your eyes, your head shaking rapidly as she leans across the desk to place her hand over your own. “You didn’t mean to what?”

Her touch is like a burning flame to your skin and you’re quick to pull away from the fire before you turn to ash, standing up so quickly that your office chair clatters to the floor in a way that makes you both jump and the concern on Farrah’s face grow deeper. 

Christ, she was so nice, so clueless. 

“I need to go to the bathroom.” The words fell out rushed, panicked, scared that if you kept your mouth open for too long that you’d spill your guts all over your desk and you needed to put some distance between you and the blonde before you did. You tug on the collar of your shirt that felt as though it was suffocating you and the action brings Farrah’s attention to the pink blouse. “I-I need to-“

“Hey, I have the same top.” Farrah smiles softly, wiping a stray tear that had fallen down her cheek. “What are the odds?”

You glance down at the blouse you were wearing and you freeze. You were so caught up in your own head that you had completely forgotten that the blouse you were wearing belonged to Farrah, you’re quick to cross your arms over your chest to try in a poor attempt to hide the top that the blonde had already recognized. 

“I haven’t worn mine in so long because it has an ink stain on the-“ Farrah’s smile drops as fast as your heart does down to the floor, her blue eyes blinking fast and eyebrows twitching as you could practically see the wheels turning in her mind. All the color drained from her face as her plump, glossed lips fall open in a small gasp that nearly breaks your heart in two when her eyes full of betrayal meet your own. “Oh my god, it’s you.”

You had never wished so badly for the ground to open and swallow you whole, feeling so small with her blue eyes staring at you in a newfound light she never had before. Your arms feel numb as you hug them tighter across your body in an attempt to shrink yourself as your bottom lip trembles. 

“Farrah, I-“ 

“You’re the girl Matty’s cheating on me with.” Farrah stares at you in astonishment, her blue eyes wide and manic as her head shakes slowly. “Duh!” She emphasizes through a sharp laugh that makes you wince. “Oh my god, am I fucking blind?” Her eyebrows scrunched in genuine confusion. “How did I not see that?”

“Farrah-“

“Did this just start three months ago?” She cuts you off once more, her voice full of desperation as the questions whirl around in her mind. “Is that why he stopped fucking me because he was too tired from you?”

The bite in her tone hits you like a slap to the face. You swallow  thickly before your eyes fall to the desk and you shake your head slowly. 

“This whole time?” She gasps, the wheels still turning in her mind as she thinks back on all the times she’s been around the two of you. “T-That day I met you for the first time, when I saw the two of you having lunch and he told me you were his coworker, was he fucking you back then?” 

You hesitate, the memory of that day coming back and burning through you like wildfire as you remember how angry she was for catching him with another woman and how pissed you were with him to find out that he had a girlfriend the whole time and yet somehow he smooth talked his way into you both forgiving him without a scratch. 

You glance up to meet her gaze, nearly gulping before slowly nodding and quick to wince when Farrah throws her face in her hands and starts to cry harder. 

“But I-I had no clue that he had a girlfriend when it all started.” You explain as if that’s going to make any of this better. “I didn’t know you existed until you walked away from the table, h-he never mentioned you.” You squeeze your arms tighter around yourself, your voice softer now.  “Not until he had to.”

“Okay, so that explains why you looked so fucking angry with him for introducing you as his coworker and for-“ She cuts herself off to laugh, wiping her wet cheeks and rolling her blue eyes softly. “finding out about me that way, I guess.” 

“I-If I had known he had a girlfriend when I met him I wouldn’t have-“

“But you kept fucking him after you found out about me, right?” Farrah interrupts, her bloodshot blue eyes pinning you in place and for a split second you consider your chances at  survival if you just jumped out your office window. You nod and Farrah mirrors the action. “So it doesn’t really matter what you would have done.” 

You shift on your feet, digging your manicured nails into your arm as you mumble weakly. “I’m sorry.”

“How long was he working here before he pursued you?” Farrah asks in a tone that says she’s terrified to know the answer, a certain gleam in her eye tells you that what you’re about to say will shape the outcome of how this ends. “I mean, I’m just assuming that he pursued you because you’re too pretty to go after a man in his thirties.”

And while you were fairly certain this was a conversation she should be having with Matty, there was a part of you that needed to be honest with her, Farrah deserved to know the truth and you weren’t positive that she’d get that talking to him. 

“Before.” You mumble, digging your nails into the flesh of your arm harsher as if you were punishing yourself before sighing and letting it spill. “I-I knew him before he started working here.” Farrah’s face falls and you’re quick to assure her, “but not for long! I had just met him the Saturday before he started, I-I had no clue he was going to work here.” You explain, practically word vomiting just to fill the silence in the tense air. “We didn’t even exchange numbers, I-I thought I’d never see him again! It wasn’t supposed to turn into…” You trail off, trying to find the right word that wouldn’t make her frown any deeper. “this.”

“So the glitter was from you.” Farrah comes to the conclusion all on her own, the mysterious case of the glitter left on Matty’s neck finally solved when you nod. “Wow.” The blonde sighs and the pain was evident behind such a simple word. “I didn’t take you for a glitter girl.”

And it’s not because you didn’t want to be, it’s because you couldn’t be. Once you started sneaking around with Matty, you had to become very conscious about the makeup you wore, always careful not to leave a trace behind. It was-

“Too risky, I guess.” Farrah laughs bitterly, shaking her head slowly. 

“I-I’m sorry, I-“

“You two had me fooled.” Farrah interjects, her blue eyes falling back down to her pink blouse clinging to your frame, zoning out on the fabric as her bottom lip trembles. “Do you know how many times we fought about you?” And you can’t help the way your stomach rolls at the thought. “How many times he swore to me that you were nothing more than a coworker to him?” Your heart has the audacity to crack. “How many times he called me crazy for assuming there was something going on between the two of you?”

And the truth was that, no, you had no clue any of this had happened at all. Matty had always made it seem as though Farrah never questioned, well, anything. You had assumed she’s just been clueless this entire time, you had no idea Matty was off spewing promises of how you meant nothing to him. 

“It took me months to believe him after catching the two of you out at lunch that day.” Farrah shakes her head softly, her voice cracking from the emotion pouring from her eyes. “I mean, why wouldn’t I be insecure over a pretty, young, smart girl working across the hall from him? Of course I had my doubts.” 

She wipes her cheeks, squeezing her eyes shut briefly before finding the courage to look at you again and you nearly hurl at the sight of her. In the back of your mind, you knew this would all come crashing down eventually, you just selfishly always thought Matty would get the brunt of it. You never thought you’d have to see how broken the truth would make her feel and you could barely even breathe through all the guilt you were drowning in. 

“But then I met you, like really met you, not just in passing. A-And I got to know you and I-“ Farrah’s face twists in sadness as a new wave of emotions wash over her and pour from her eyes. “I trusted you.” Your eyes squeeze shut as the three words hit you like a bullet to the chest, digging your fingernails into your arms so harshly you might draw blood as Farrah sobs in front of you. “I confided in you and you told me there was no way that he was cheating on me when you knew that he was.” 

“Farrah, I-I’m so sorry.” Your voice is not much more than a whisper, your bottom lip trembling through the tears pouring from your own eyes as the shame creeps up your spine to mix with the guilt already eating you alive. “I’m so fucking sorry, I-“

“Does he love you?” Farrah interrupts to ask a question she’s terrified to know the answer to, you could tell she was holding her breath as she wipes her cheek and reiterates. “Is he in love with you?”

It was the same question that had nearly kept you up all night. 

Was Matty in love with you?

I love you, I love you, I love you. 

It sure seemed like he was, sometimes, especially after this weekend. When his eyes would gleam up at you a little too long while you were sitting in his lap, when your fingers tangled under a blanket you shared while the opening credits to your favorite movie rolled, when his fingers slowly scrubbed the shampoo in your hair when you were showering together this morning. In those moments, it felt like he was in love with you. 

But how could he be in love with you and still put you through the absolute hell that he has for the past ten months? How could he be in love with you and still not break up with his girlfriend? So did he really mean it last night when he moaned it in your ear or was it just a form of dirty talk that went way too far? 

You wanted to believe him, you needed it to be real. But Farrah had just finished saying how Matty swore to her that you were nothing more than a coworker to him, that you meant nothing to him and you weren’t quite sure which girl actually got the truth, if either of you did at all. 

“I-I don’t know.” You mumble an honest answer because you truly weren’t sure if he did or not and that kills you. “Maybe.”

Farrah nods, sniffing while wiping her cheeks and you don’t miss the pained look in her eye at your inability to answer, almost as if that was worse than hearing you say yes. 

She opens her mouth and hesitates, almost as if she was debating if she actually wanted to know the answer before finding the courage to ask, “Are you in love with him?”

And Christ, you didn’t even have to think twice about it. 

Your bottom lip trembles as you stare into Farrah’s blue eyes that pour with tears as if she already knew the answer before you even get the chance to nod, too ashamed to say it out loud. 

Farrah squeezes her eyes shut and you couldn’t help but do the same, feeling guilty for even crying at a time like this when the blonde girl's entire world had just been flipped upside down, but you couldn’t help it. This wasn’t how you imagined it to go, the moment you finally admitted how deep your feelings for him truly go, you never thought it’d be like this. Full of pain and guilt and shame and disgust with yourself for falling in love with a taken man. 

“I-I’m so sorry.” Your voice cracks from the emotion pouring from your eyes. “I never meant for it to go this far, I-I swear. I tried to stop it so many times, I just-“ You take a deep, wobbly breath, staring up at the ceiling as the tears trickle hot and fast down your cheeks. “I just couldn’t.”

Farrah releases a hefty sigh, wiping away final tears and drying her wet palms on her thighs before standing up from her chair and facing you eye to eye. For a split second you’re convinced she’s about to slap you across the face and while she doesn’t end up scratching the itch she surely has to do it, her words hit you just the same. 

“You’re too pretty for him.” Farrah nods with a sad smile, her blue eyes scanning over the features of your face as if she was trying to memorize them to compare to her own later. “I know that you love him, but so did I.” She nods, her voice cracking and she's quick to clear her throat of any leftover emotion. “You deserve better than this, we both do.” She decides, blinking away a fresh batch of tears before locking her gaze with your own. “Remember that the next time he inevitably comes crawling back to your door.”

And you’d be damned if her kind words didn’t make you feel worse than being caught fucking her boyfriend because how could she possibly look at you after everything she knows and still be so nice? It made you feel awful, disgusted with yourself, practically out of your own body as you stare at the woman whose entire life you just ruined. 

Not only did you wreck her home, her relationship, her trust but you also completely destroyed whatever confidence and self-esteem she had. You could see it in the way her blue eyes couldn’t stay still for too long on one part of your face, overanalyzing each and every feature to most likely find what he liked better about you that she didn’t have, too terrified to ask him herself. 

You knew this because you had spent the past ten months doing the same thing with her, wondering why he wasn’t choosing you over her and trying to find the reason why in the features of your face, your body, everything. 

You were about to get everything you wanted, finally ready to call Matty yours and you couldn’t even be happy about it because you had completely ruined a woman’s self-worth in the process. 

Four knocks delivered in a rapid succession beat against the door to your office and jolt you out of your spiral, quick to wipe your tears and take a deep breath to try and compose yourself before the person who you hoped and prayed didn’t have curly hair walked in. 

You’ve never been so relieved to see Thomas knocking at your door in your life. 

“Hey, have you gotten the chance to look over those- oh! Hey, Farrah! What are you doing here?” Thomas speaks in a bright tone that makes it clear that he doesn’t immediately pick up on the tension in the room. “Matty’s in his office, meetings over so he’s all yours.” Your boss teases in a flirtatious tone that makes you nauseous, one glance at Farrah and you can tell she’s feeling the same. “Just don’t make him too tired, yeah? He’s got to meet with a client in half an hour.”

And Jesus Christ, someone please shut this man up. 

“Oh, don’t worry.” Farrah sighs, giving you one last glance before turning on her heels to make her way out of your office. “This won't take long.” 

Thomas laughs as if there’s some innuendo hanging in the air, pointing his thumb over his shoulder at the girl who was making her way across the hall. 

“I like her, she’s- oh.” You both flinch at the loud bang of Matty’s door being slammed shut and the way it echoes in the defending silence that falls over the office floor sends shivers down your spine. “Well, someone is sleeping on the couch tonight.” Thomas grimaces through a laugh and you feel nauseous all over again, your heart pounding so rapidly that your ears start to ring as you could only imagine the conversation happening across the hall. “Hey, are you alright?”

You flinch at the sound of Farrah yelling through the unforgiving walls, your body growing numb as you realize that she wasn’t going to be the only one to find out about your office romance today, everyone was about to. 

You could only imagine the judgmental glares they’d give as you walked by their cubicles, how they’d whisper behind your back at the copy machine, how they wouldn’t be able to look at you the same.

You would never be able to step foot in this office again after today without everyone knowing what you and Matty were doing behind closed doors that were only sometimes locked and oh my god you needed to get out of here before they had the chance to find out through these paper thin walls. 

“I-I feel sick.” You mutter as best as you could, stuttering through a racing heart and a dizzy head as you stare at Matty’s closed office door and fight to not spill your stomach all on the floor. “I need to leave.”

And you don’t even wait for a response from Thomas before you’re practically sprinting on numb legs that didn’t quite feel attached to your body through the corridors and straight to the elevator, rapidly pressing the button over and over again in hopes that it’d open before another coworker asked if you were okay. 

Thankfully the doors close faster than they took to open and as soon as you’re met with the blurry gaze of the chrome fully shut, you finally let the reality of the situation wash over you, an audible sob ripping from your throat as you crumble to the floor of the elevator and let it all out. 

Normally when you’re in the contraption, you’re annoyed by the slow pace, tapping your foot and wishing the floors would go down faster so you could go home already. But right now as you hyperventilate on the floor of the elevator, hidden from the world and all its judgement for what you’ve done, you couldn’t help but want to stay behind the chrome forever. 

—

The hot water from the shower head pelts against your skin and burns in a way that feels like a punishment you more than deserve. Your skin practically scrubbed raw as you try and wash away all the guilt and shame down the drain. 

Though it only intensifies the longer that the image of Farrah’s heartbroken face festers in your mind. The way her blue eyes glowed brighter as more tears fell down her cheeks, the way her bottom lip quivered as she tried to speak, the last look she gave you before turning on her heels and entering Matty’s office. You couldn’t stomach it. 

What happened in his office? How did their conversation go? How did Matty react? Was Farrah still there? Was Matty?

Oh, Matty, Matty, Matty. 

You scrub the loofah against your skin a little harder now, enough to pull a sharp hiss from you as the soap suds against your skin that you hope would cleanse you of him, of Farrah, of everything. 

You’d never felt so disgusted with yourself before. 

It was never supposed to go this far, god, why did you let it get this far? Why didn’t you stop it, why didn’t you stop him? You knew he had a girlfriend and yet you continued to fuck him over and over and over again until you deluded yourself into believing that you actually meant something to him. 

Christ, you were so stupid. 

You grab onto the shower wall for support as a sob racks over you, digging your nails into the tile while the water beats down your back. How could you be so stupid?

You do another rinse on your body, standing up straight under the heavy stream of hot water in hopes that this time it’d wash away all your guilt, all that shame, the pain. You nearly scream when it doesn’t work, when you stare at the soap swirling down the drain and still feel just as filthy as the first attempt. 

God, how did Matty do it every night? How did he come home from fucking you over his desk and not feel any remorse while kissing Farrah at the front door? How did he live with himself? You could barely breathe through all the guilt and he probably felt nothing and-

“Fuck!” You couldn’t help but scream, taking all of your anger out on the knob of the shower that you practically punched to the left, a slight shiver ran up your spine now that the hot water had stopped pouring and you were left standing in the steam. 

You wave the stinging pain in your hand off as you huff out a deep breath and stare at the tiled wall of your shower, debating if you felt cleansed enough of your sin or if another attempt would make you feel any better. Your eyes roll when you quickly realize that it would take a lot more than soap and hot water to make your skin stop crawling, maybe you should try a different approach and try to drown it all out instead. 

You take one step out of the shower and immediately catch sight of Farrah’s pink blouse  sitting in the corner of your bathroom floor, all crumbled up and thrown with a fist of fury. You couldn’t even stomach the sight of it now, one glance at the pink fabric and you’re nearly ready to hop in the shower all over again to ensure that you had scrubbed all of Farrah away. 

You dry your body off in slow movements, in no rush to return to reality, nearly falling into a trance as the events play back over and over again in your mind. You couldn’t help but be thankful for the fogged up mirror so you wouldn’t have to look at yourself, the blurry outline already enough to make you feel sick and if you stare at it long enough you might have a fist full of broken glass. 

That thought alone has you quick to snap out of it, drying off the rest of your body with rushed movements before tossing your towel over the rod of the shower and throwing an oversized t-shirt over your head. It was a shirt you had thrifted years ago, a vintage Yankees tee that fell down to the middle of your thighs and had only ever seen the walls of your apartment. It was something you had only ever worn to bed and you honestly couldn’t wait to crawl into your sheets now, even if it was still the middle of the afternoon. 

But not until you had a massive glass of the bottle of wine that was calling your name, hopeful that if you drank enough of the merlot that it would help you forget about Farrah’s face when she found out. 

If you couldn’t wash the guilt down the drain, maybe you could drink it away instead. 

You were standing on your tip toes in the kitchen, reaching for a wine glass tucked away in the top cabinet and cursing yourself for putting it so high when a knock came at your front door. 

Three knocks. 

The familiar cadence makes your stomach drop, quick to tighten your grip on the glass you had finally secured so it wouldn’t have the same fate as your feet land flat on the floor and your head turns to stare at the front door of your apartment. 

Maybe you were just hearing things, maybe the knock was coming at your neighbors door instead and the thin walls of New York City apartments did a shit job at muffling the sound, maybe you had finally gone mad. 

And just when you had convinced yourself that you had made it all up in your head, the sound repeats itself. Three knocks at your front door that were louder this time around and made you certain they were for you, your heart drops down to your toes. 

It had to be him. 

The three knocks were nearly a dead giveaway, it was something you’d heard countless times over the past ten months, always delivered to the doorframe of your office before tilting his head to the side and leading you off somewhere so he could have his way with you. You had no doubt in your mind that he was standing on the other side of your door and you can’t help but curse yourself now for allowing him to drive you home after work on a rainy day a few months ago, surprised that he still remembered the address. 

You set the empty wine glass on your kitchen counter and weigh out your options, you could stay silent and pretend that you weren’t home, maybe he’d give up and leave if you iced him out long enough. Or you could open the door and hear him out, maybe he had a good reason for all of this. And while you didn’t really think that was true, you couldn’t help but wonder what bullshit he’d spin to talk his way out of it this time. 

The knocks come at your door again, three that were quicker in succession this time, more full of desperation as they pound against the wood with more force. And like a moth to a flame, you find yourself answering his call yet again. 

Your feet carry you across your apartment floor until you’re standing in front of your door, your hand hesitant to reach out for the knob as Farrah’s face flashes in your mind. 

“You deserve better than this, we both do…remember that the next time he inevitably comes crawling back to your door.” 

The last words Farrah spoke to you spin around in your mind and make you second guess even opening the door at all because she was right, you did deserve better and you knew this but that still didn’t stop you from wanting him. Even though you had just spent nearly an hour trying to scrub Matty and the pain that came with him away, your chest still ached to see him, to know what he was thinking, how he was feeling. 

Fuck, you were in so deep. 

You take one last deep breath before unlocking the door to swing it open and the sight of him alone nearly knocks you off your feet, his brown eyes blown wide and full of nerves that were surely eating away at him as they don’t hesitate to scan down your frame and bring that never ending nausea back up your throat. It nearly spills out of you when they lock back with your own, his dark orbs swimming with worry as he clears his throat from any emotion that might have built up on his drive over. 

“Hey.” He mumbles, glancing at your apartment behind you in some unspoken request to be let in and while you probably should have slammed it right back in his face, you find yourself silently stepping to the side and allowing the older man through the threshold. 

You close the door behind you with a soft thud and stare at the wood until you’re brave enough to turn around and face him, the skin you had scrubbed raw already itching from the way it crawled at the close proximity to him. You could already feel your resolve growing weaker and weaker just from the smell of his cologne. 

“How are you feeling?” Matty asks softly, the concern for you clear on his face. Your stomach rolls at the question, your brain already in pain just from the idea of trying to put how you felt into words. “Thomas told me that you felt sick and had to come home, I-” He hesitates, clear that his mind was whirling with a million thoughts. “Are you okay?” You hate the way your eyes immediately brim with tears, those three words cursing your plan to act unaffected by it all. “I brought you some soup. It’s chicken noodle, I-I thought it might help.”

Matty holds the takeout bag up to bring your attention to it and you couldn’t help the way your eyebrows come together ever so slightly in confusion at the sight. Why would Matty bring you chicken noodle soup at a time like this? I mean, surely he knew you left work feeling sick about Farrah coming up there and finding out about the two of you, right? 

Matty takes a step toward you and places the back of his hand on your forehead, your cheeks, surely checking to see if you were feeling warm and had a fever and oh he truly thought you were sick. He had no idea that you knew about Farrah finding out, for all he knew you left before she ever arrived, completely clueless to everything that went down in his office an hour ago. 

And now that you knew that he thought you were in the dark, you were able to notice the signs you had somehow missed. His muscles were more rigid than normal, his dark eyes blinking excessively and full of an unshakable worry, his hand shaking as it lowered from your forehead back down to his side. 

He was nervous and you had never seen him this way before. You couldn’t help but be curious to know if those nerves were due to him telling you about it or him hoping you’d never find out. 

“Yeah, I-I’m fine.” You sigh, wrapping your arms around yourself in an attempt to bring yourself comfort as you take a subtle step away from him and cast your eyes on the floor. “I just felt a little nauseous.”

And you weren’t necessarily lying, you did leave work because you felt like one more minute in your office and you would’ve spilled your guts all over the floor, you just didn’t mention why you felt that way to begin with. You wanted him to be the one to tell you about Farrah all on his own, it was a test to see if he’d be honest with you, for once. 

“Oh.” He pouts, setting the soup down to be forgotten. “A Sprite might have been better then.” You can’t help the way your nose scrunches up at that and Matty chuckles at the sight. “Yeah, yeah, I know you don’t like Sprite but you would have lived.”

The sound of Matty’s soft laughter in your apartment only intensifies the ache in your chest, wanting nothing more than to jump into his arms and pick up where the two of you left off this morning, desperate to go back into your little bubble that had already popped. 

“It’s okay.” You wave him off, giving him a soft smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes as you lie through your teeth. “I feel better now.”

“Good, that’s good.” Matty nods and you can practically see the wheels turning in his mind, your heart starting to race the longer the silence lingers between the two of you. 

You nod slowly and stare at him as if you’re daring him to address the elephant in the room, to tell you the truth, to give you an explanation for everything because you deserve it. Matty looks as though he’s having an internal battle of his own in his mind, his dark brown eyes scanning over your face rapidly as he surely fights to find the right words to say and you hoped he did fast or you were about to spill your guts all over his shoes. 

“So,” Matty starts, his voice meek and full of nerves, scratching the back of his neck as he hesitates through a squeeze of his eyes before taking a deep breath and delivering the news that you are already more than aware of. “Farrah knows.”

He says it as if he’s dropping a bomb on you, as if he was about to turn your whole world upside down and really, if you didn’t already know, it probably would have. But you did know, you were the reason she knew anything at all and Matty had no clue.

“I-I don’t know how she figured it out but she came by my office today and she-” He cuts himself off to sigh, rubbing a sweaty palm over his face. “She knows.” He glances at you through his fingertips before dropping his hand altogether. “She knows about you, a-about us.”

And even though you were already aware, your heart drops anyhow because he was staring at you as if he was waiting for you to react and you didn’t quite know how. Should you continue to play clueless or should you be honest and tell him that you were the reason?

“I-I’m so sorry.” Matty stresses, taking a step forward to grab your hands and settling for your elbows when you don’t uncross your arms for him to do so. “I don’t know how she figured it all out just from seeing two wine glasses in the sink? I-I don’t know how she-

“I know.” You cut him off, squeezing your eyes shut through a racing heart, hating the fact that you could never lie to him. You take a deep breath and stare into his dark eyes that hopefully wouldn't lose their gleam when he looks at you as you admit, “I told her.”

Your stomach churns as Matty’s face falls. You can practically feel the way his body tenses while his eyes lose their gleam to be replaced with betrayal, slowly pulling his hands away from your elbows as his eyebrows furrow softly and he practically gasps out, “You what?”

The nausea comes back to you at full force.

“Yeah, I uh-“ You clear your throat, squeezing your arms tighter around yourself as you shift the weight between your feet. “I guess she didn’t mention that to you?”

“No.” Matty’s voice was so soft you barely heard it, his thick eyebrows furrowing together more as the betrayal seeps into his veins. “No, she didn’t mention it.” He shakes his head, his dark eyes squint at you slightly. “Why would you tell her?”

You hated the way he was looking at you, hated knowing that his entire perception of you had just changed in a blink of an eye, hated that you still cared. 

You sigh. 

“That night that she almost caught us, when I found her in your office, she um- she confided in me.” You explain and Matty’s eyes squint further. “She thought you were cheating on her with Maeve.” You nearly laugh and can’t help but roll your eyes. “I told her you weren’t, of course.” And you can’t help but tack on a snarky, “You’re welcome.” 

“Maeve?” Matty’s face scrunches up further. “I barely even speak to her?”

“Yeah, well, apparently she was making eyes at you at the Christmas party.” You huff out a laugh, shaking your head softly. “Because that clearly was more proof than your eyes on my legs all night.” And you’d be damned if Matty’s eyes didn’t fall down to them now. “I thought she’d drop it and she would have if we just remembered to clean up the wine glasses in the sink.”

Matty sighs. “Yeah, that’s my fault.”

Everything was, you wanted to snap back at him but refrain because really, you were just as much to blame. 

“So today she came into my office crying about how she knew you were cheating on her and I obviously panicked because I thought she knew it was me.” The panic bubbles in your chest now as you relive it all. “But she didn’t know it was me until she saw my shirt- well, her shirt.” You grimace and shrug. “She kinda figured it out on her own after that.”

“So that’s it?” Matty’s face softens a bit, his eyes scanning all over your face. “You didn’t actually tell her, she just figured it out because she noticed you wearing her shirt?” Matty was desperate for an explanation, swallowing thickly as he shook his head softly. “That’s not your fault.”

Well.

“No, it is my fault. I-I told her.” You stress, squeezing your arms tighter around yourself as Matty’s face twists in confusion yet again. “After she noticed that I was wearing her shirt, I told her everything.” You could barely stomach the look in his eyes, the hurt and betrayal behind the brown orbs enough to make your stomach roll. “She was asking me all these questions and I-“

“And you answered them?” Matty interrupts, his voice growing in volume as he stares at you in bewilderment. “You didn’t think that was something she should hear from me?”

“You have no right to be mad at me.” Your head shakes. “You weren’t there.” The tears build up in your eyes despite your best efforts to prevent them. “You didn’t have to see her face when she found out.” 

Matty’s face softens when he notices your tearful eyes, rubbing a hand over his face as he takes a deep breath and a beat to collect his thoughts. 

“I-I’m not mad at you.” He speaks to you softer now. “I just don’t understand why you would-“

“Because she deserved to know!” You can’t help but interrupt in an outburst that makes Matty flinch, your own voice still full of fire now. “After everything we put her through, the least I could give her was the truth and I wasn’t sure she would get that from you.” 

The insult falls off your tongue with a bite that immediately shifts the air between the two of you. Matty raises a thick brow, taken aback by your words that practically slapped him in the face. 

His dark eyes narrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Do you really expect me to believe that you would have been honest with her?” You can’t help but fix him with an unimpressed glare that he swallows thickly at. “I mean, after all the lies and bullshit you’ve fed us both for ten months, I find that really hard to believe.”  

“Both?” Matty’s eyes narrow further with an impressive display of confusion that was nearly believable, would have been if you didn’t already know better. The dark orbs fall down ever so slightly. “I have never lied to you?”

And it takes everything in your power not to slap him. Did he really think you were that stupid?

“Look me in my eyes and tell me that again.” You challenge him, even provide him with a beat to do so, shaking your head softly when silence is all you’re met with. “You can’t do it.” You laugh weakly through a scoff, proven when his eyes meet your own again now. “You can’t do it because you know that you have.”

“Name one time.” He argues weakly, as if he already knows he doesn’t have a leg to stand on yet he can’t stand to not defend himself. 

“Oh, just one?” You snap back, your voice dripping in sarcasm. “How will I ever choose just one?”

“Well, that’s a little bit dramatic don’t you think?” Matty scoffs. 

“Really?” You narrow your own eyes at him now, cocking your head to the side and practically smiling when you ask, “When’s the last time you slept with Farrah?”

The question hits him like a freight train, you can see it in the way his face falls as the words wash over him, the way he gulps before shaking his head. “What?”

“You heard me.” Your voice is strong, solid, surprisingly so considering the way your legs felt like gelatin as you await his response. 

You had never stood up to him like this before, never called him out in such a way, never intimidated him before and you could see behind the nerves in his eyes that you were doing so now. 

“I-I already told you that I haven’t-” Matty tries to reiterate his same argument as he had in your office the morning after Farrah nearly caught the two of you but you’re quick to put a stop to it. 

“Matty, you’re lying to me right now.” You laugh in disbelief. “It’s actually unbelievable.” You shake your head in astonishment at the older man standing before you. “Don’t you think if I’m asking you about it that means Farrah already told me?” You make a valid point that he couldn’t argue with, accepting defeat with a hefty sigh as you repeat the question. “How long has it been?”

Matty rubs a hand over his face out of frustration and stares up at the ceiling as if he’s trying to decide what to do, how to answer, or maybe he’s calculating the months in his head. “Five months.”

And it once again takes everything in you not to slap him for having the audacity to lie to you again even after you said Farrah had already told you the answer. 

“Three.” You correct, unable to hide the disappointment in your tone as you roll your eyes softly. “It’s been three months since you and Farrah slept together.” Further explaining as if he needed you to spell it out for him. “Not ten, not five, three.”

Matty’s face twists in confusion, holding his fingers out to count the calculations in his head and shaking his head out of disagreement while doing so as if you were the one lying to him. 

“No, it’s been five.” He stands his ground. “I slept with Farrah on her birthday and that was the last time, I-I swear it.”

“You’re lying to me.” You shake your head softly, almost admiring the way he refused to give in. 

“I’m not lying to you.” Matty stresses, his thick eyebrows knit together and trembling from the pressure. “What good would it do for me to lie to you when I know that you already know the answer?”

“Exactly!” You laugh. “So why are you saying it’s been five when Farrah told me it’s been three?”

“I don’t-” Matty sighs, his dark eyes falling to the floor as the wheels turn in his mind, fighting to think back on what happened three months ago and you could practically see the light bulb go off when he realizes. “Well, I didn’t know that we were counting oral!” 

And if looks could kill, he’d be laid out on the floor of your living room right now. 

“Her, not me.” He’s quick to clarify as if that was going to make all the difference. “I-I woke up to her sucking my-”

“Oh my god, I don’t care!” You cut him off, finally unwrapping your arms around yourself to cover your ears as a preventative measure so you wouldn’t have to hear the details that would surely send that sickness you’ve been feeling for the past hour up your throat. 

You squeeze your ears tight enough for them to ring and relish in the pounding of your own heart for a beat. When you’re confident that you’re in the clear, you loosen your hands from over your ears in favor of bringing your fingers to rub at your temples to ease some of the ache in your overworked mind. 

“I don’t care that you slept with her, that’s not my point.” Your voice is softer now, more defeated. “She was your girlfriend, I expected you to be fucking her, I-I can’t be mad about that.” Because it wasn’t like you didn’t know what you were getting yourself into by sleeping with a taken man, you might not have liked to think about what they were doing behind closed doors but that didn’t mean you weren’t aware it was happening at all. “But why would you lie about that? Why would you make me believe that you weren’t sleeping with her when you were?”

Matty opens his mouth but quickly closes it with a sigh, running a sweaty palm through his hair out of frustration before throwing his hand up in defeat. 

“I-I don’t know.” Matty huffs, his brown eyes slightly glossed over and you hate the way that your heart aches at the sight. “I guess I thought it’d help convince you that my feelings for you were real.”

“Convince me?” You can’t help the way your voice booms yet again. “There are a million ways you could have shown me that your feelings for me were real and instead you chose to lie about something that I didn’t even ask you about.” You laugh in disbelief, pressing your fingers into your temple until the pain is too sharp to handle. “I never asked about your relationship with Farrah other than when you were going to end it. You lied about that completely unprompted, for no fucking reason!”

Matty grimaces. “I-I’m sor-”

“Do you understand that I’m not angry with you for fucking your girlfriend?” The heat simmers behind your eyes and tears bubble beneath the steam, brimmed and blurry as you explain, “I’m angry with you because you lied to me about it and made me feel so special that you hadn’t.” You can’t help the way your voice cracks, a single tear finally falling from your eye as the emotions boil over. “Like I was so important that you would do that for me without me asking.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t-”

“Do you understand why I’m angry about that?” You ask yet again, more fire behind your tone now as you deliver the question in a way that makes Matty flinch, the intimidation he felt towards you surely growing. 

“Yes, I understand that and I-I’m sorry!” Matty stresses, taking a step towards you and gulping when you take one further away from him. “I don’t know why I lied about that, okay! I-It just slipped out and once I said it, I couldn’t take it back. I’m sorry, please.” 

He takes another step toward you and you remain in place this time, your heart nearly beating out of your chest as his hand reaches out to graze your arm and the ghost of touch alone has you ready to give in to him.

“But my feelings for you are real, okay? I-I just didn’t know how else to make you believe me because you weren’t listening to me.” He explains as his hand slides down your arm with the intention of sliding his palm into your own but he’d never reach it there because he was about to dig his own grave. “And one little lie shouldn’t-”

“One little lie?” Those three words snap you out of whatever trance he was putting you under, quick to pull your arm away from his touch and return to reality to fix the older man with a wide eyed glare. “You can’t be serious.” You scoff, disgusted with yourself for almost falling into his trap yet again. Not this time. “Where did you say Farrah was this weekend?”

Matty freezes, staring at you for a beat as if he was trying to decipher if this was a trick question before answering with a calculated. “Pennsylvania.”

And that wasn’t a lie, you’ll give him that. Farrah was in Pennsylvania, she told you as much, but not for the same reason Matty had.

“Yeah.” You nod, cocking your head to the side. “To visit family, right?”

Matty doesn’t answer, he just swallows thickly in the silent tension between the two of you, surely knowing at this point where you were going with this and deeming it better to just remain quiet than to try and come up with an excuse. 

“Right.” You answer for him. “You know, it’s so funny because Farrah was just telling me about her family.” You explain with a certain flair in your tone that makes Matty’s heart sink. “Her family who live in Brooklyn, by the way, not Pennsylvania.”

And you can nearly see the way Matty’s stomach sinks, his dark eyes filled with a newfound worry that he wasn’t going to be able to talk his way out of it this time. 

“But you know what is in Pennsylvania?” You ask knowing that Matty wouldn’t respond. “The Poconos! They have these incredible resorts there with mountains, lakes, spas.” You emphasize that word in particular, sure that it hit close to home by the way Matty’s eyebrow twitches now. A sickeningly sweet smile spreads on your face as you sarcastically tack on. “So beautiful, so romantic, don’t you think?”

You allow the thick silence to linger between the two of you long enough to make him shift uncomfortably under your heated gaze, his mind surely whirling with ways to dig himself out of this hole. 

“Farrah sure thought so, she had a lovely time.” You nod, making it clear to Matty that you were more than aware of the plan he had devised. 

Matty’s face falls, his heart surely with it. He tugs on the collar of his shirt as if it’s choking him and you were all too familiar with the feeling, having felt it underneath Farrah’s stare only hours ago.

“And, you know, maybe you can help me with this because I just can’t seem to figure it out.” You speak through a soft laugh. “But why would a man who intends on breaking up with his girlfriend plan such a grand, romantic gesture to apologize for being a shitty boyfriend?” You speak slowly to ensure that he didn’t miss a single word. “Unless, that shitty boyfriend didn’t plan on breaking up with his girlfriend at all.”

“Yes, I was.” Matty argues. “I told you that I was breaking up with her when she got home today, I promised you that.”

“But you weren’t going to!” Your bottom lip quivers, another tear betraying you to fall down your cheek. “Yes, you promised me, but we both know that come tomorrow morning you were going to be groveling in my office about how you just couldn’t do it.” You nearly mock, having heard the bullshit reasons for ten months now, you knew this script by heart at this point. “You don’t send your girlfriend away on a trip like that just to break her heart as soon as she gets back home.”

“It wasn’t like that.” Matty shakes his head, his curls with it. “I promise, I-”

“That night that she almost caught us, that scared you.” You effectively shut him up. “And you weren’t just scared of losing me, you were scared of losing us both.” A sad smile twitches at the corners of your mouth as another tear falls. “You were scared that I was going to freak out about seeing Farrah wearing lingerie in your office and you were scared that she wasn’t as drunk as she seemed and she knew about us.” 

All those attempts at scrubbing away your guilt in the shower opened your mind to see things for how they really were. 

“You could feel her putting all the pieces together, so you had to find a way to convince her that she was just reading too much into it.” You emphasized his words from earlier and delivered them like a slap to the face that he surely felt by the way he flinches when they’re spat off your tongue. “But what about me? H-How do you prevent me from walking away?” Your voice cracks. “You send Farrah off on a trip that’s just far away enough to give you the comfortability to invite me over. Maybe if you make it feel special, if you make it feel real, I’ll forgive you too.” You laugh wetly. “And it worked.”

“Baby-”

“My god, you’re a fucking genius!” You laugh once more, pushing more tears to fall from your eyes that melt into your cheeks. “A-A master manipulator or some shit I mean, how the fuck do you even keep up with it all?” You ask him genuinely, wiping away stray tears before they reach your quivering lips. “You found a way to save your relationship while still keeping me in your back pocket and wrapped it all up in a little bow to give to us on a silver platter and we both ate it up.”

Matty runs his hands over his face, scrubbing hard enough to leave a little pink tint on his cheeks when he pulls them away to slide through his curls instead, tugging on the strands a little out of frustration before fixing you with a pointed glare. “Are you done?”

“I-I don’t know yet.” You bite back with a racing heart. “Maybe.” You shrug before crossing your arms back over your chest, glaring into his dark eyes as you try and find something else to tack on and sighing when you come up empty handed. “Yeah, okay, I guess I’m done.”

“Good.” Matty nods, the frustration clear in his tone and you weren’t quite sure if you were ready to be the brunt of it yet. “I didn’t send Farrah away to save my relationship.” He scoffs at the mere idea of it. “I sent her away so that I could be alone with you for longer than ten minutes tucked away in a fucking supply closet.” He throws a hand up in defeat. “I planned this weekend for us, not her.”

“You shouldn’t have to send your girlfriend away just to have a weekend alone with me.” You cry. “Not when you could just fucking break up with her and have me all the time.” Your head shakes, your heart aches. “You didn’t do this for us, you did it for you.”

“I-I don’t know what else you want me to say.” Matty sighs, rubbing his forehead. “My relationship with Farrah is over, I have no interest in being with her.” He stresses through dark eyes that captivate you and pull you in. “I want to be with you, only you.”

“Well, if you want to be with me so bad then what the fuck took you so long!” You can’t help the yell, the words booming off your tongue and blowing into his chest as hard as your hands do, pushing him back just enough to catch him off guard and make him stumble. “Why would you swear to me for ten fucking months that you were going to break up with her and never do it?” 

The outburst opens the dam in your eyes and the tears flow freely down your cheeks as you finally let all that pent up disappointment out. 

“I-I mean, I cannot find one logical answer as to why you would keep her around other than the simple fact that you wanted her there!” You laugh wetly. “Her, not me!” You emphasize by shoving his chest again though he’s more prepared for it this time, standing his ground as you take your anger out on him. “How can you stand there and tell me that you have no interest in being with Farrah when you did everything in your power to prevent having to break up with her?”

You go to deliver another blow to his chest but Matty is quick to catch your wrists, your eyes quick to lock with his own as he squeezes them softly and holds them in place. You stare into his big brown eyes and can’t help but want to kiss him because even though you were so angry with him, he looked so unbelievably pretty right now. And that makes your fists clench even harder because my god, can you get a grip?

Matty’s eyes fall down to your lips and that’s all you needed to snap you back into reality, quick to pull your wrists from his hold and take a step back from him as you wipe your cheeks clear of tears that were still pouring. 

“I mean fuck Matty, you still haven’t broken up with her.” You laugh maniacally, wiping your wet hand on the oversized shirt you were wearing. “After all this time, all these promises you made to me, she broke up with you.” You scoff through a giggle. “I mean, it’s so fucking ironic.”

“I didn’t get the chance!” Matty finally blows up, his voice cracking with emotion as it booms through your living room. “What did you want me to do, hm? Stop her from screaming at me for cheating on her to say oh, can you hold that thought so I can dump you first?” He scoffs, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I mean, come on, what was I supposed to do?”

“Break up with her ten months ago!” You fire back at him, your voice already hoarse from harboring so many emotions, so much pain. “I would have even settled for five months ago, or three. Fuck, I would’ve been happy even if you had just done it prior to this weekend and avoided sending her away at all.” You cry, resisting the urge to shove his chest again. “Because that would have proven to me that you were serious about this, about me.”

“How would that have proven I was any more serious about you than what I’m saying to you right now?” Matty’s thick eyebrows furrow deeply, his dark eyes scanning all over your face. “Or what I said to you last night?”

Your heart drops at the mention. 

I love you, I love you, I love you.

“Because why wait?” You exasperate, feeling like a broken record at this point and nearly exhausted from constantly repeating yourself. “Why go through the struggle of sending her away when you could have just broken up with her right then and been done for good?” A question that he still hadn’t provided an answer for, your heart nearly breaking in two as you come to the realization. “You still want to be with her.”

“No, I don’t.” Matty is quick to shut the idea down. “I-I don’t want to be with her, I want to be with you.” He stresses, taking another step forward and placing his hands on your shoulders to ensure you were staring into his eyes as he promises. “You.”

“If she hadn’t found out about us, would you be here right now?” You can’t help but wonder, dread swimming through your veins as the terrifying thought swirls through your mind, a stray tear trailing into your mouth as you ask, “If she hadn’t broken up with you, would you even be standing in my living room?”

“Wha- yes, yes!” Matty emphasizes by squeezing your shoulder. “Of course I would be.”

“See? That's the problem,” Your voice barely above a whisper as you shake your head softly. “I don’t believe you.”

“I promised-”

“You promised me for ten months, ten.” You’re quick to cut him off, face screwed in an overwhelming wave of emotion. “And not once did you follow through, it was always fucking something.” You scoff, rolling your eyes softly. “Farrah had a bad day at work, Farrah had a flat tire, Farrah got a paper cut today.” You can’t help but laugh breathlessly. “I mean, it was always Farrah, Farrah, Farrah. Well, what about me?” You cry, your bottom lip quivering and eyes brimmed with so many tears that Matty’s face grew blurry. “What about my feelings?”

“What are you talking about?” Matty stresses, you could practically hear the panic in his tone. “I-I care about you, of course I care about your feelings.”

“You don’t.” You argue, swallowing down the lump in your throat as the pain pours from your eyes. “You have never thought once about how these past ten months have affected me because you knew all you had to do was drop to your knees and I’d forgive you.” 

You feel ashamed now even admitting it because it was true, it happened countless times before. You’d get angry at Matty and he’d drop to his knees, spread your legs until you forgot why you were even angry with him in the first place. You could only assume he was considering trying it out now by the way his eyes fell down to your legs that were only covered by the hem of your oversized tee. 

“Poor Farrah couldn’t get her heart broken because she got a fucking speeding ticket but you had no problem crushing mine week after week, you fucking asshole!” The anger bubbles up inside of you until you're shoving at his chest yet again, the blow knocking his hands off your shoulders and back to his sides. “You fed me bullshit for months and I believed you!” You cry, amazed at yourself for not seeing through it all sooner. “When in reality, the timing was never right because you didn’t want it to be.” You shove your finger into his chest, delivering a heartbreakingly weak realization. “You were never going to break up with her.”

Matty’s face falls and you hate the way your chest aches at the sight, hate the way that after everything you still couldn’t stomach the sight of him being upset. You squeeze your eyes shut to block it out now and the tears race down your face to see who would be the first to roll down your neck and seep into the neckline of your t-shirt. 

“And some part of me always knew that but I had convinced myself that I was wrong because I wanted to believe you.” You shake your head softly, opening your eyes slowly and the breath gets knocked from your lungs at the sight of him, the view clearer now that your eyes weren’t so blurred from all the tears. “I needed to believe that one day you were going to break up with her. That one day this would all amount to something, that somewhere deep down inside of you, you had real feelings for me and this wasn’t just about the thrill.” You confess with a voice that cracked with emotion. “I needed to believe that because it made it all hurt a little less.”

You bring your hands up to your head and shake your head to try and make the jumbled mess of a million thoughts whirling around in your brain makes some sense.

“A-All the sneaking around, the lying, the guilt. It would all be worth it someday because you were going to break up with her and finally choose me.” You sigh, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth as a fresh batch of tears roll down your cheek, your voice barely above a whisper as you mutter. “And you never did.” 

“I am choosing you, I-I’m choosing you right now.” Matty stresses, his tone full of panic as his dark eyes brim with tears that you weren’t sure were genuine or not. “You want me? You have me.” He promises, reaching up to take hold of your hands that were still resting on your head, quick to intertwine his fingers with your own before you could pull away from him. “I-I’m right here.”

Your eyes glance up to the ceiling, pursing your lips in hopes that it would stop them from quivering. You knew that if you stared at Matty for too long that you’d give in and you couldn’t, you refused because Farrah was right, you did deserve better than this.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited for this?” You sigh, eyes stinging ever so slightly from the light up on the ceiling that you were staring at, choosing this vice over the one in front of you because Matty’s gaze burned more fiercely. “How many nights I’ve dreamed about you showing up on my doorstep? Single, begging for me.” 

It’s something you fantasized about more often that you cared to admit. Zoned out during meetings, watching a rom-com with your best friends on a Friday night, when you were tossing around in bed unable to fall asleep. You thought about the day Matty would come running to you constantly, you practically wished for it with every penny you threw into a fountain, but you never thought it’d happen like this. 

“This is all I have wanted for so long.” Your voice breaks, face twisting in sorrow as you blink away the sting from the light on the ceiling and find the courage to look into Matty’s dark eyes again. “You’re finally choosing me and I can’t even be happy about it because I will never know if you’re choosing me because you actually want me or just because Farrah didn’t give you any other choice.”

The words sting as they fall off your tongue, the idea twisting your stomach with a deep nausea that makes your legs feel weak as you stand before him.

“Are you kidding me? Of course I want you.” Matty squeezes your hands still intertwined with his own softly. “It wouldn’t matter if Farrah gave me a choice or not because the result would be the same, I would still be standing right here with you. Y-You have to believe me.” Matty begs, squeezing your hands even tighter now out of fear that you might leave him. “I want you, not her. I-I haven’t proven that to you?”

You couldn’t even bring yourself to speak, the emotions pouring from your eyes had built up too large of a lump in your throat to swallow, all you could do was stare into his glossy, dark eyes and shake your head slowly. Matty’s face crumbles at the sight and the first tear falls from his eye at the impact, his own lip quivering as he opens his mouth and hesitates before rubbing his thumbs over the backs of your hands.

“I know you heard me last night.” The softly spoken words pack quite the punch, practically knocking the air from your lungs and cutting your heart strings to drop it to the floor. “You’ve been pretending like you haven’t this whole time, but I know that you did.” He nods as another tear trickles from his eye, inching his face ever so slightly closer to your own so he could stare deeper in your eyes. “I love you.” His voice is sure and strong, full of emotion, pulled from his gut. “I-I’m in love with you, you know that I love you, is that not proof enough?”

You had dreamed about what it would feel like to be loved by Matty, if you’d be swept away by the butterflies swarming in your stomach when he finally admitted it or so consumed with happiness that you would burst on the spot. You never dreamed that the three words falling from his tongue would fill your stomach with dread, that hearing them would make you feel nauseous and skeptical because under the circumstances that he was saying them to you, you just couldn’t believe him. 

“No.” You shake your head softly, the word barely more than a hushed whisper, painful as you admit it. “Fuck, Matty, do you know how long I’ve been waiting for you to say this to me? A-And now that you are it’s-” A crack in your voice cuts you off, pulling your hands from his own to wipe your tears away. “No, i-it’s not enough because how do I know that you actually mean it?”

Matty’s face twists in a newfound pain, as if the accusation hurt more than if you had just slapped him in the face instead. 

“Of course I mean it, I-” His head shakes, his eyes brimmed with tears thick brows knitted tightly and you can’t help but cast your eyes to the floor to distract yourself from the sight of his own aching heart. “I love you. Hey, look at me.” He stresses, his hand quick to grab onto your face and maneuver it in a way that has your red eyes fixated on his own again as he repeats more slowly, more intentionally. “I love you.” His dark eyes roam all around your face, a deep set panic behind the tearful glaze. “I would never lie about that.”

“Ten minutes ago you were swearing to me that you had never lied to me at all.” You laugh weakly and his hands settled over your cheeks burn like fire as they wipe collect the tears falling from your eyes. “We both see how that turned out, so how can you expect me to believe you now?”

Matty’s face crumbles in defeat, his hands gripping onto your face tighter as his head falls back in a deep sigh, staring up at the ceiling while a stray tear trickles from his eye. It nearly reaches his quivering pink lips before he’s tilting his head forward again and locking his gaze with your own. 

His thumbs stretch out to carefully wipe beneath your eyes, handling you with such care that it only makes you cry harder and you’re so wrapped up in your own emotions that you don’t even realize Matty’s leaning in to kiss you until his lips are already pressed against your own. 

It was only a peck, as if he was testing the waters, a kiss just long enough to make your heart flutter and miss him when he pulled away to whisper “I love you.” in the inch of space between your lips before diving in for more. 

His lips slide against your own in a familiar display of desperation, practically pouring all the thoughts he couldn’t find the words to express out loud into your mouth through his tongue, holding onto your face tightly as if he feared you were about to slip through his fingertips if he loosened his grip at all. 

You couldn’t help but melt into him, his tears dancing with your own in a salty mix that  only makes you all the more desperate to drink him in, your hands nearly ready to slide up his chest so you could wrap your arms around his neck and fall victim to the never ending cycle once again. 

You were seconds away from it, your fingertips twitching at your sides to reach out and touch him, so wrapped up in the way his lips felt against your own that you would’ve done anything for him if he hadn’t slid his fingertips in your hair and snapped you out of the trance.

You’re quick to place your hands on his chest and push him away with so much force that you both break away from the kiss in a gasp, the two of you practically panting as you stare into each other's eyes.

“No.” You stress through a new wave of tears, shaking your head to further get your point across. “No, I-I’m not letting you manipulate me into forgiving you again.” You take a step back to put some distance between the two of you, terrified that if you stared at his swollen lips for a second longer that you’d throw caution to the wind and dive back in. “You can’t just kiss me and expect it all to go away, not this time.”

“I’m not kissing you to manipulate you?” Matty looks pained at the accusation. “I’m kissing you because I love you and it’s the only way I know how to prove that to you.” He takes a step forward to try and grab your hands but you're quick to cross your arms over your chest and prevent him from doing so, hurt flashes behind his brown eyes and makes you feel ill for rejecting him. “I love you and I-I want to be with you, please believe me when I say that.”

“And I want to be with you, more than anything.” You can’t help but admit through a weak, defeated tone. “But I-I don’t know if I can.”

“Why?” Matty exasperates, the frustration clear in his tone. 

“Because what if you do it to me?” Your voice is not much more than a whisper as you finally admit the fear you’ve had all along, sniffing and rolling your eyes slightly before continuing. “What happens when a younger, hotter, smarter girl who wears her skirts just a little too short starts working at the office and you decide she's the one?”

It was a fear you’ve had the entire ten months you’ve known Matty, that some fresh out of college intern would start working there and he’d forget all about you, toss you to the side the second someone new and more exciting came along. 

“I don’t want to wake up in two years and realize that I’m Farrah.” You cry, swallowing down the lump in your throat as you shake your head to confirm. “I won’t.”

“I would never do that to you.” Matty promises and you can’t help but laugh weakly at the irony. 

“Don’t you think Farrah believed that too? That you’d never do something like this to her?” You don’t even have it in yourself to be angry anymore, your voice full of defeat and sorrow as you sigh. “Look at her now, I mean, we ruined her and all because you wouldn’t just man up and end it.” 

You couldn’t help but throw the blame on him because yes, you were partially to blame but at the end of the day, none of this would have happened if it wasn’t for him being unfaithful. 

“And you still can’t even admit that the only reason you wouldn’t break up with her was because you didn’t want to.” You nearly felt numb at this point, your eyes swollen with pain from crying for so long, wishing that you had never opened your door at all and just left Matty sitting on your doorstep. “There were never any speeding tickets or flat tires, that was all just bullshit to buy yourself more time.” You scoff. “It didn’t matter what I did, what I said, it never mattered because I was never going to be yours.” Your heart cracking in two and the pain from it shines clearly in your voice that breaks as you whisper through tears. “And that’s all I ever wanted to be.”

“You’re not listening to me. I want you to be mine, baby.” Matty chokes out, his eyes full of desperation and a silent plea for you to believe him. “Y-You are mine, you-”

“I’m not.” You sigh. “I never was.” The words sting as they fall from your tongue, you didn’t even need Matty to help break your heart, you were doing a fine job of it all on your own. “And the only reason you want me to be now is because you can’t have her anymore.” You wipe at your cheeks and roll your eyes softly, even give yourself a laugh of self pity. “I will always be your second choice and I feel like the biggest idiot in the world for falling in love with you.”

You grimace as soon as you say it, squeezing your eyes shut tightly, a stray tear falls down your cheek rapidly from the impact. You couldn’t believe that after all this time, after all the ways you had envisioned it happening, that this was how you finally admitted it out loud. 

“You’re in love with me?” You could practically hear the astonishment in his whispered tone, the breathless way it fell from his lips that were surely quivering with emotion. 

“Oh, don’t pretend like you didn’t know that.” You laugh weakly, opening your eyes just to roll them but keeping them downcasted on the floor, sick just from the sight of your bare feet parallel to his shoes. “It’s not like it wasn’t written all over my face anytime you gave me some attention.”

The silence that lingers between the two of you is suffocating and you’re plagued by the torture of not even knowing his reaction to your admission because you were too cowardly to take a peek. You continue to stare at the ground and watch the way Matty’s shoes shift on the floor in front of you, listen to the way he sniffs and wipes away tears of his own as he processes the words you never thought you’d have the guts to say to him. 

“Why didn’t you say it back?” The pain is clear in his voice and the sound makes your chest ache. “Last night, why didn’t you tell me that you loved me too?”

Your heart drops at the question, memories of you tossing and turning in Matty’s arms all night as you stew on those three words play in your head and make you desperate to turn back time and start the day all over. 

You sigh. Well, it was already all out there in the open now, might as well be honest. 

“Because I was your best kept secret and that was mine.” Your heart climbing up your throat to spill out all over his shoes that you couldn’t stop staring at. “And what if I finally admitted that secret I’d been hiding for so long just to find out that you had only said because you were about to cum.” A huff of laughter in the form of air exhales from your nose as you shake your head at the ground. “I-I couldn’t say it back until I knew for sure that you meant it.”

There’s a beat of silence that feels as though it drags on for an hour and the sound of Matty sniffing breaks the allusion. 

“And now?” He asks, leaving room for you to answer him and sniffing once more when you don’t even make an attempt. “You know that I mean it? Y-You do know that I love you, right? Please tell me that you know that.” He stresses as you watch the way his shoe steps closer to your bare foot and suddenly his hands are on your face, pulling your head up so you’re forced to meet his eyes. “Look at me, I love you.”

“It doesn’t matter.” You whimper, your bottom lip quivering with overwhelming emotion, an indescribable pain shooting through your chest. “I-It’s too late, you’re too late.”

“It’s not too late.” Matty is quick to argue, his fingers holding onto your face for dear life. “We can fix this, I can fix this.” He promises through a stream of tears that your own eyes mirror. “I love you, please let me fix this.”

“You can’t.” It pains you to admit because if there was even the slightest chance that he could reverse all the damage he’s done, you would give him the opportunity without any hesitation. “I wish that you could, but I-I don’t think I could ever trust you enough to be with you.” Matty’s face crumbles through your admission, so much pain behind his eyes that you knew you’d be haunted by the image forever. “I-I’m sorry, I just- I-I can’t.” You hiccup through a painful cry, feeling as though your heart was ripping in two as you whisper. “I-I think that you should leave.”

“Please don’t do this.” Matty begs, his dark eyes wide and wet with tears. “Please don’t end this, I-I’ll do anything, baby, please.”

“I have to.” You whisper, hesitating before reaching out to wipe his own tears away softly with your thumb and nearly break at the way he leans into your touch. “Please let me.” You plead, holding onto his cheek and cherishing the feeling before it was gone forever. “Please. I-I have tried to end this for ten months now and you have never let me follow through with it, you always find a way to reel me back in and I-I can’t let that happen this time.” Your head shakes, your heart aches. “You have to let me end it, you have to leave.”

“No.” Matty argues, standing his ground with a newfound fire in his eyes hidden beneath all the heartache and despair. “I’m not leaving, I-I’m not giving up on you, on us.”

“You have to.” You stress through a pout that trembles at the sight of him crying over you. “If you don’t leave then I’ll never end it and I have to end it because you are killing me, Matty.” You choke out. “Being in love with you is killing me.” Your thumbs swipes under his eye to collect the fresh tears falling from his beautiful brown orbs. “I-I can’t have you around me anymore, you have to go.”

Matty’s face twists in deep sorrow, his hands sliding from your cheeks to run through your hair, his eyes scanning every inch of your face as if he was fighting to memorize every feature so he’d never forget a trace. “But I love you.” 

“I know.” You smile softly, rubbing your thumb soothingly across his cheek. “And I love you.” You nod, your stomach twisting in pain at the realization that this was the first and only time the two of you would ever exchange the sentiment. “But you have to leave, you have to do this for me.”

Matty shakes his head, sliding his hand to the back of your neck to pull you in for a desperate kiss that you don’t stop him from, allowing him to pour out every unspoken emotion through his lips that press against your own that understand every silent word. 

He pulls away from the kiss after what felt like a lifetime, his eyes bloodshot from all the tears that had poured from them as he laughs weakly. “I don’t know how you expect me to leave now.”

You smile softly, leaning up on the tips of your toes to press one last kiss to his quivering lips. 

“Because this is your chance to prove it.” You nod at him in reassurance as you wipe another tear from his cheek. “If you truly love me then prove it to me and walk away.” You try to stand strong but your voice betrays you in the way it breaks from the emotion pouring from your eyes, begging Matty one last time. “Let me end it, please.”

You stare into Matty’s dark eyes and could practically see the internal war happening in his mind through the pupil, surely outweighing his options and deciding if it was better to fight for you to prove his love to you or listen to your request and lose you forever. 

His decision takes a lifetime and you get lost in his eyes as you await his next move, hopeful that he’d comply and let you win for once, you weren’t sure if you had any argument left in you. 

Matty’s hand trails up your neck to cup your cheek, rubbing his thumb soothingly beneath your eye as he takes a deep breath and finally caves, nodding his head and accepting the fact that if he wanted to prove his love for you, this was the only way how. 

Your stomach rolls at the pain behind his eyes as they scan over your face one last time before he leans in to press a soft kiss to your forehead, allowing it to linger there long enough for you to feel the way his lips quiver against your skin, your eyes squeeze tight at the feeling. He pulls back far enough to press another kiss to your hairline before nodding once more and walking away despite everything in his body screaming at him to stay.

Your chest aches more and more with every step he takes toward your front door, feeling numb when he hesitates as he grabs your door knob and glances over his shoulder at you to ensure that this was what you really wanted before he left your apartment. And even though you were the one forcing him to leave, you couldn’t bear the sight of watching him walk out of your life forever, you stare at him for one more gulp before casting your eyes down to your bare feet that immediately blur from the tears that pool rapidly. 

Matty lingers for ten more seconds, you knew because you were counting, getting one last look at you before turning the knob and leaving you and your apartment for good. 

The door shuts softly yet the impact of the moment makes it feel as though it was slammed, shattering your heart into a million pieces the second you hear it close, knowing that you were all alone and immediately crumbling down to your knees in the middle of your living room at the sickening realization that this is how you’d feel for the rest of your life, alone. 

You couldn’t help but allow the emotion to overtake your body, spilling out of you in a painful way now that you didn’t have someone to be embarrassed in front of, nearly hyperventilating through sobs as you grip the floor of your apartment for some support through it all. 

This was not at all how you envisioned this day to go. 

You woke up in Matty’s arms this morning with the confidence that it was where you would fall asleep tonight, fully convinced that this was the time he'd be honest with you and finally break up with her, this would be the time he would choose you. 

And that all may have been true, but you would never know.

Your chest burns with fire now from the sobs that wrack through your body as you come to terms with the fact that you would never truly know if Matty was being honest with you or not. If he hadn’t forgotten to clean up those fucking wine glasses, if Farrah hadn’t figured the two of you out, would Matty have followed through and broken up with her anyway? He could scream empty promises that he was going to until he was blue in the face, but you would never know if he was being truthful or not.

Matty was the only one who would ever know how this day was going to initially end and that killed you.

You wished more than anything that you could crawl inside of his mind and discover the answer because you needed to know, you craved it. You needed some sort of comfort that you hadn’t just wasted ten months of your life on a man that was never going to choose you and the fact that you would never have it was going to haunt you forever. 

And while you know it’s for the better, you know that it’s a good thing that Farrah found out because it led you to realize all the lies you’ve been blindly believing for the past ten months, there's a small part of you that wants to stand up and sprint out of your apartment to catch him before it was too late. 

Maybe he was leaning against your apartment building right now, smoking a cigarette and wishing his lips were wrapped around you instead. Maybe he was out pacing in the cold and regretting every stupid decision he made that led to his inevitable downfall, god, you hoped that he was. Or maybe he was still sitting right outside, maybe his ear was pressed to the wood and he was listening to you sob and scream for him and fighting not to bust down the door to come back for you. 

You have to dig your nails into the floorboards to prevent yourself from crawling over to your door and opening it to check if he was still sitting out there because you knew if he was that you’d cave and let him back inside and you couldn’t do that. As badly as you wanted him, you couldn’t have him. You deserved better than someone who took ten months to finally choose you, you had to let him go.

But that doesn’t stop you from mourning the fact that you would spend the rest of your life missing him because you almost had him. Matty was so close to being yours and if he would have just remembered something so simple like cleaning up those damn wine glasses, today would have gone entirely different and maybe, just maybe he would have been.

[viperify]

KINKTOBER 2025 | ᴛᴏᴍ & ᴍᴀᴛᴛʜᴇᴏ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

❤︎ WHEN IN PARIS…

SUMMARY: A late night, drunken confession doesn’t only entertain your friends, but also the two brothers it’s about. And they—well, they use the opportunity to show you why the Eiffel Tower is popular in the city of love.

WARNINGS: MATURE CONTENT. threesome, semi-public sex, oral m!receiving, brief (pussy) spanking, unprotected p in v, swearing, they are mean, deepthroating, degradation, hair pulling, facial.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: ahem. *disappears into the void*

wordcount: 3,6k

It was a bet.

A stupid bet, if you think about it.

An atrociously dumb one, to be very fair.

It’d begun innocently at first—your friends and some of the girls from Beauxbatons sitting in a circle, asking each other truth or dare questions.

Until it was your turn.

“Truth or dare?” your friend asked you with a giggle, and you rolled your eyes.

“Truth.” You say, considering all of you had quite a lot to drink, and alcohol only seemed to enhance their… creativity.

“Well,” your other friend began, suppressing a laugh—several drinks apparently clouding her judgement of what would be an appropriate question to ask. “Who does it better? Tom or Mattheo?”

Your eyes widened at the question, and you immediately denied having anything to do with either of the Riddle brothers.

Though intrigued as they were, the French girls wouldn’t let it go. Pestered you with questions all evening until you, perhaps a little too intoxicated, spilled your precious secret.

A secret which only your closest friends were in on, and you were now willing to share with a group of strangers.

Happily, with the buzzing confidence of Vodka in your veins, you began explaining rather loudly how you’d managed to bed both of the two brothers—and not only once, but multiple times. And the best part—they both knew they were sharing you.

“They’re both amazing. Tom’s rougher, doesn’t kiss you, Mattheo’s mostly gentle except when he’s jealous.”

The girls continued staring at you expectantly, even when you were done telling in overly extensive detail what was supposed to be something you’d carry to your grave.

“So that’s that,” you dragged out the last word, downing another shot before you lifted your gaze to the many wide, surprised eyes that were currently gawking at you—more than twenty people had gathered around you to listen to what you had to say about the two brothers.

“They are here too, right?” A curly-haired French girl squeaked, cheeks reddening. “Mattheo’s a dream.”

You agreed with a short nod. “Yes, they’re here. Haven’t seen much of them yet, though.”

You thought they had finally moved on until another girl with long, dark hair and a clouded, indifferent expression shoved her way into the circle.

“If they like you so much, why aren’t they here with you? I say you’re lying,” she snapped, her words wrapped in a thick French accent as she condescendingly stared down at you.

Oh, someone was jealous.

The fuzzy feeling of the last drink you had boosted your confidence too much, definitely. You knew that. You also knew that you shouldn’t let others provoke you, especially not about thismatter.

And yet, something inside you snapped at the audacity of her to talk down on you.

You too stood up, adrenaline rushing through your veins as you fake-smiled at her. “And that’s where you’re wrong. I am still meeting them tonight. The both of them, by the way.”

For a split second, the grin on her face vanished—lips curling downwards, a muscle ticking in her jaw. And then, a flame lit up behind her eyes.

“Prove it then. I bet they won’t even spare you a glance for the entirety of the week.”

You huffed. “I bet they will. And you will be the first to know.”

Why you had to take it this far and couldn’t just ignore her, you aren’t sure. Perhaps because you hate others questioning you, doubting you. Perhaps because she is Tom’s type and hasn’t stopped trying to talk to him ever since you arrived.

She undoubtedly hit a nerve, and you lost your cool. And now, you found yourself in a situation you most likely won’t be able to fix.

Your friends had long steered the conversation elsewhere when you sat back down and tried lifting the fog around your thoughts. In no way would it be possible to convince them to lie for you—if anything, they’d laugh at your stupidity.

Your eyes absentmindedly swayed around the common room during your thoughts, and to your horror, locked onto a very familiar face.

Mattheo’s.

The realisation hit you like a brick.

He swirled a glass of firewhiskey in his hand, half empty as he raised it to his lips and took a slow sip—then, his lips curled upwards with a challenging smirk as he spotted your terrified expression.

Oh, you were done for.

The rest of the night passed in a blur, and not even your favourite drinking game could get you out of the haze of thoughts you found yourself trapped in.

They were not supposed to know you boasted about having fucked them both.

—

School trips are perhaps the most fun part of the winter semester at Hogwarts. You’ve always adored the exchanges, a week where you’d visit a magical school in another country and learn about their culture and curriculum.

Days packed with activities almost have you forget what happened during your first evening.

The last day of your exchange has begun, and you still haven’t even spoken to the two. It’s not as though you planned on doing so either way. You’d take the loss, and that’s it—it’s your own doing, after all.

You’re sent back to reality when your professor, Miss Sprout, yells at the top of her voice to get everyone’s attention, handing out a flyer, a map and an instant camera to every student.

“Students! Your final task for this week is to search for exotic plants around the gardens. Please go and have a look for any rare species you can find. You’ll have one hour, then I expect each one of you to have returned to this spot right here.” 

The botanical garden in Paris spans over a hundred acres and is filled with thousands of plants you’ve never seen before. The sheer size of the magical part, which isn’t accessible for Muggles, has your breath catch.

It’s truly one of the most gorgeous places you’ve ever visited.

You decide to take a different route than your friends for once, led by the inviting, sweet smell of a tree which is blooming in all its glory at this time of the year. Soft pink and red petals dance in the air as a breeze sweeps past you, the old tree’s branches groaning in protest as it sheds some of its blossoms.

In awe, showered in colourful, small confetti-like petals, you decide to read the description beneath.

The Lover’s Tree

Sprouted in this very spot over a thousand years ago, the Lover’s Tree has been sought after by countless lone wizards. Many times, it has helped bring love in ways they didn’t expect.

And beware of its petals: knowing once love isn’t far, the tree will do its part in brushing up your outfit to its liking.

Your eyes drift to your blouse and skirt, entirely covered in the withering blossoms of the tree.

You are quick to deem it as a mere coincidence, the wind clearly having done its part in the matter, until—

“Didn’t know you were into this cheesy stuff.”

A voice from behind you calls out, almost mockingly—and you recognize the tone all too well. You turn around, only to be faced with both Mattheo and Tom, striding towards you.

“What are you doing here?” You ask with a raised eyebrow, trying your best to conceal your trembling hands behind your back.

Mattheo huffs, eyes scanning over your shorter figure—briefly stopping at the skirt which ends just below the curve of your ass, one that’d get you two weeks’ worth of detention had this been Hogwarts.

“You have a bet to win if I remember correctly,” Tom cuts in, hands in his pocket as they stand before you.

Your heart thrums in your throat when the correlating memories come flooding your mind, and suddenly you wish you never left your friends’ side in the first place. Why’d they bring it up? Why now? Why here?

Why’d they follow you all the way to this secluded area, just to corner you against the thick stem of a tree? To humiliate you?

“I don’t know anything about a bet,” you lie, but your horrified expression only confirms Tom.

“I heard you, sweetheart. Every. Single. Word,” Mattheo mutters, taking a step closer. “About how I am almost too soft with you sometimes.”

You wince.

“About Tom, who loves making you scream into his pillow,” he continues, and at this point you wish you could vanish into thin air—cheeks heating up in embarrassment, eyes locked onto the lush green grass underneath your soles.

“About—“

“Okay, okay! Stop!” You exclaim, swallowing the knot that has formed in your throat. “It’s true. There is a bet.”

But Mattheo doesn’t even think a second about stopping right before the best part.

“About how you think it’s a secret competition between my brother and me, when in reality it’s teamwork—and it seems as though you need a reminder of just that.”

Your eyes meet his, wide with surprise as you process his words. They couldn’t possibly mean—

“What?” 

Tom glances at his watch in the meantime. “We have thirty minutes. If you don’t wish to lose your little bet, you better stop pretending and follow us.”

It’s not as though you really have a choice anyway—Mattheo quickly grips onto the sleeve of your blouse, tugging you along.

They lead you to a gazebo located in the middle of a small pond, connected to land by a bridge and shielded by trees surrounding the area. The sun reflects in the still water, a dragonfly buzzing by as you step onto it, the wood creaking beneath you.

It’s a stunning place, one where you expect proposals to take place—just like described in your books. Where couples shed tears and share kisses, where newlyweds come to take photographs.

But you are here for an entirely different reason—glancing around nervously at the thought.

“What if someone passes by?” you ask quietly, meeting Tom’s eyes.

“Then you’ll finally have to learn how to keep that overconfident mouth of yours shut.” he answers shortly, void of emotion as usual. 

“But— are you sure—“

Mattheo’s palm lands on your ass with a resounding smack, and you yelp at the sting it leaves behind. 

“Bend over, we don’t have all day.”

And so, with slight hesitation but also an undeniable pulsing between your thighs, you lean over in the middle of the roofed platform, skirt riding up so high, the lace of your panties catches Tom’s eyes.

“Wear this again and I am giving you a month’s worth of detention as soon as we are back.” he scolds, fingers hooking into the fabric of your skirt and bunching it around your waist. “In my dorm.”

Perhaps your favourite type of detention.

Mattheo has settled in front of you, unbuckling his belt and letting his trousers slip down just far enough so his cock springs free—already hard, leaking pearly white beads from the flushed head.

You wet your lips at the sight, glancing up at the curly-haired boy in front of you. And he, he smirks down at you in an all too familiar way. “Go on, then. Suck.”

The moment your tongue swirls around his swollen tip, most of your worries are shoved to the back of your head—literally—and you soon come to relish the taste of him in your mouth, as well as the little sounds falling over his lips when you take him deep, coughing and gagging around him. A string of saliva connects to the tip as you pull back, placing a kiss on it and repeating the process all over again.

The raven haired brother behind you brushes the pad of his thumb over your still clothed clit, having you moan around Mattheo’s cock in return—who then grips your hair and pulls you off him.

“Quiet. Take it like a good girl and shut the fuck up.” he hisses, forcing your head to bend painfully as he makes you look up at his darkened eyes. “He’s barely fucking touched you.”

In the same moment, the fabric of your tights rips with a sharp tear, making you flinch.

“Tom— no, those were exp— hmph—“ you try to complain, though Mattheo is quick to shove himself back inside of your mouth with one sharp snap of his hips, having your eyes flutter closed, throat constricting around his length.

“Shhh,” he scolds again, firmer this time, fingers tightening their grip near the roots of your hair—to the extent every move is painful. So you stay still, slack-jawed, as he begins setting his own rhythm.

No more being gentle. Mattheo’s thrusts are deep and unforgiving, tears streaming down your face as you cough and splutter around him. But he doesn’t even think of giving you a break.

Tom takes a step back behind you, his gaze lowering when his thumb finds its way back to your clothed cunt, the pad brushing over the length of it and pressing down on your clit, circling the puffy bud. And you, you can’t help but groan softly, bucking your hips against his finger.

Smack!

Tom follows his brother’s move from before, and you yelp—jerking forwards, which only makes you take Mattheo’s cock deeper. He just smiles, cruel enough to keep you there for a moment longer, nose flush against his abdomen as you struggle to breathe.

“Look at that,” he rasps, glancing at Tom. “Fucking filthy.”

Only when you tap his thigh does he let you suck in a much needed breath, his arousal mixed with your spit trickling down your chin and onto one of your finest blouses.

“Fuck— Mattheo, that’s—“ you cough, but he doesn’t even let you finish that sentence before his tip prods at your lips again, and you happily wrap them around him once more.

You should have definitely kept your mouth shut that day.

Tom feels the dampness seeping through your panties, scoffing at just how easy it is to turn you into an obedient mess for them. “Wet already. Dirty girl.” 

In the meantime, one hand works open his trousers while the other pushes the lace of your panties to the side, gently slipping the length of his thumb inside of you.

“F-fuck—“ you struggle around Mattheo, hands finding his thighs for support—but he doesn’t let off, too lost in pleasure to care. With every thrust of his hips, your nose bumps against his lower abdomen, and he’d lie if he said all of this doesn’t make his brain fuzzy with lust.

You are so pretty for the two of them, bending to their will. Anyone could walk by—and still, you happily let them play with you. Because you want to win the bet? Mattheo is certain that is the last thing on your mind right now.

Stroking himself a few times as he pushes his thumb in and out of your slick hole, Tom watches how your arousal soaks his finger—only having more blood rush to his already rock-hard length, precum drooling from the swollen head.

As soon as he feels your legs starting to tremble, walls fluttering around him—he withdraws.

“Close already. Merlin help you.”

His palm lands sharply on your half-exposed pussy once, twice, having a muffled scream tear from your throat, knees buckling—but he’s quick to steady you, placing one knee in between your shaky legs.

“Do what you do best for us—spread your legs, slut.”

And so you do. 

Mattheo’s fully thrusting himself inside of your mouth when you feel Tom swipe through your soaked folds, collecting your arousal before he pushes himself past your entrance.

“F-sh-fuck— please s—so much—“ you whine desperately, hands clawing at the other brother’s thighs, shaking your head—but he stills you with a sharp tug on your hair. 

“Hands behind your back. Don’t be feisty,” Tom warns, and reluctantly, you oblige. He pins them there, and then, with a single, sharp snap of his hips, buries himself inside of your warmth.

You cry out at the burning sensation on your walls, but it’s no use either way. One of them withdraws, the other thrusting inside of you to the hilt.

It’s a never-ending cycle of the drag of their cocks inside of you—mind dizzy with both pleasure and exhaustion, throat sore and aching, the stretch of Tom’s thick length bordering pain.

“‘M so—sorry didn’t— mmph— mean to—“

One of Mattheo’s hands slips underneath you, tightly squeezing one of your tits.

“I can’t fucking understand you when your mouth is stuffed full with dick.”

Hot tears roll down your cheeks after another few minutes, every single muscle in your body protesting the position they’ve kept you in for way too long. The camera around your neck dangles with every sharp, measured thrust of the two, mockingly so. Reminding you of what you should be doing right now instead of this.

And yet—even beneath the discomfort—blooms pleasure. Reluctant at first, settling deep in your lower abdomen—but when Tom’s hand slips between your thighs, swirling his fingers so perfectly around your neglected clit, you nearly lose it.

Reduced to nothing but a drooling, trembling mess between them, you feel your climax approaching rather quickly—Mattheo’s cock repeatedly hitting the back of your throat, staying there until you splutter around him and start coughing.

It shouldn’t turn you on to be deprived of fucking oxygen, but for some reason, it does. The lack of it making your mind spin—walls tightening around Tom, eagerly fluttering as he thrusts himself deep.

And they both know just how close you are.

“Ask,” Tom hisses from behind, pinching your clit with his fingers. “Ask if you want to cum.”

A sob slips from your lips when Mattheo momentarily withdraws, his flushed tip soaked with your saliva mere centimetres from your face.

“Pl—please— please I want to— want to cum, please,” you stutter, coughing at the tingly feeling at the back of your throat—Tom fucking into your cunt like he means it.

“Do it. Cum around my cock like the pathetic girl you are.” he rasps, letting go of your wrists to instead grip your hips, pulling you back against his thrusts.

“Just the tip, baby. Suck on it.” Mattheo instructs, and you follow—swirling your wet tongue around the sensitive head, having his head tip back with pleasure, fingers softening their grip on your hair.

You do so for as long as you can—until your high hits you like a curse, frying your nerves and having your entire body jerk—your cunt clamping down so tight around Tom, he has to hold back from cumming right there with you. You whimper and moan softly, eyes unfocused as your vision swims—knees trembling and finally giving in when no one holds you up.

Your mind is still fighting through the haze of your climax when Mattheo wraps his hand around his cock, stroking himself to the sight of your fucked-out face, tears reflecting the sunset so beautifully. He groans, knuckles white from how tightly he’s gripping himself—and then, a split moment later, his cum spills onto your face in thick ropes, creating an even more stunning artwork than any of those you’ve seen at the museums all week long.

You gasp as he does, jerking back slightly—but Tom’s there to keep you from running away.

“Stay and take it—that’s it, beautiful girl.” he praises, yanking you towards him with his fingers in your hair when Mattheo’s done.

“Going to make you even prettier,” he mumbles, and you look up at him when he too starts jerking himself. “Is that what you want? Us to make you look all gorgeous?”

You nod weakly, looking up at him with bloodshot eyes. “Yes—yes, please.”

And that’s all it takes for Tom’s cock to twitch in his grip, covering your face with his own release. Praises fall over his lips as he holds you close, wipes his tip on your lips when he’s done—and you, you gleefully lick them.

You all take a minute or two to process what just happened—until you reach to wipe your face, but Mattheo grasps your wrist and stops you.

“Not yet. We still have one last thing to do.”

Tom then snatches the camera that’s been around your neck this entire time and points it at your face before he reaches in his pocket to withdraw a single, red flower.

He puts it in your hair, a smirk dancing at the corner of his lips as he takes you in.

You look more than stunning like this—cum mixing on your face, slowly trickling down your chin combined with tears and spit, eyes red and yet so sweetly searching for his own. Soft, late afternoon breezes sweep past you, birds singing in the distance—and just like Mattheo, Tom comes to the realisation that you’re the most precious of all things they’ve seen this week.

And best of all, the flower that he’s been given by that one dark-haired girl who started the bet adorning your hair. She smiled at him expectantly, telling him they are her favourites.

Tom can’t get himself to care in the slightest. On you, it looks much better anyway.

He doesn’t tell you that, though—finger hovering over the shutter button of your camera.

“Smile, baby. You’ll have to show her proof, no?”

thank you for reading! feel free to reblog and leave feedback <3 — masterlist. | kinktober.

©2025 viperify. please do not copy, translate or claim my work as your own.

[viperify]

KINKTOBER 2025 | ᴘʀᴏꜰᴇꜱꜱᴏʀ!ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

✧˖ JEALOUS LITTLE THING.

SUMMARY: You should already know that jealousy gets you nowhere with him—but it seems as though you do need a little reminder sometimes, which Tom naturally is more than happy to provide.

WARNINGS: MATURE CONTENT. professor x student, age gap, cockwarming, ring kink???, teasing, fingering, edging, orgasm denial, spanking

AUTHOR’S NOTE: happy one-year anniversary to this blog and happy one-year anniversary to my first ever fic, aka brat taming with tommy! lets celebrate with… brat taming with tommy????? not my best work, honestly but… here ya go :33

wordcount: 3,1k

You didn’t mean to take it that far. Really, your morning had started out perfectly fine that very day—you woke up without feeling tired, your makeup was on point, your blouse came back from the laundry without a single crease, and the sun, although mid-autumn, bathed you in its warmth once you pulled the thick curtains aside.

For once, you weren’t grumpy or irritated when you left your dorm for breakfast and got ready for classes.

There was no reason to give him an attitude, not really. Because, after all, correcting students is part of his job. Even if that means he guides other girls’ hands, his long fingers enveloping theirs as he stands behind them, muttering encouragements with a low and steady voice. Corrects their pronunciation and praises them when they get it right. Adjusts their stance.

You got over it long ago.

Or so you thought.

Today, something put you off. Tom was pressed up tighter against that one girl, seemed to whisper more than just instructions in her ear. And she had the audacity to smile at you during it all, knowing it would rile you up, make you jealous. Because even if nobody knew about what happened after class on Friday afternoons between your professor and you, people talked, people suspected. Especially her—she has always had a strong opinion when it comes to you.

You have despised her ever since she spilt wine over your finest ball dress a few years ago and didn’t even bother to apologize. In short, she is a stuck-up, egoistic brat from a rich background who believes she can get away with anything.

But not with you, never.

And the worst of all: Tom has close ties to her family, meaning he has to play along with her antics. 

Still, you told yourself that it was probably nothing. Tried to ignore it. But when it happened again, and she took a step back just to “accidentally” brush against his front, shooting you a challenging look—you lost it.

Your eyes burned with rage, and for the rest of the lesson your focus lied on anything but the matter he was trying to teach. Every soft smile, every whispered praise bothered you. And when it was his turn to assist you, already reaching for your hand—you snapped.

“I don’t require your help,” you sneered, turning away from him.

Perhaps you were a little too bold. Too loud.

The room fell to dead silence at once, air buzzing with tension—and not only because even Tom seemed to be surprised at your sudden outburst, but numerous people stared at you, then at him. Back at you.

While being the most knowledgeable professor of all, he is also the strictest. Nobody dares speak up against him or complain about the piles of homework he assigns every week—many students saying they’d rather have a whole month of only History of Magic, the most boring subject of all, than to sit through two hours of detention with him.

“As you wish. I will expect a perfect execution of the spell next lesson.” he replied almost too casually, not sparing you another glance before he moved on to the next student.

Internally, you were cursing yourself. Once again, you’d let jealousy get ahead of you, and now—

You were in trouble. Big trouble.

The end of the lesson approached promptly after, students whispering to themselves as they swiftly packed their bags, some of them sending you sympathetic looks before they left the classroom as fast as they could.

You too shoved your textbooks into your bag, swinging it over your shoulder before you rushed past his desk, anger still blooming low in your chest—though, just short of the door, his voice stopped you.

“Miss, do you mind staying for a while longer?”

Cold. Casual. Final.

Not a question, but a demand.

Your shoulders curled in themselves, and you sighed in defeat.

You were well aware he wasn’t going to give you detention. No extra work either. No reports to the principal about your behaviour.

Instead, he would take care of it himself—just like he always does.

—

And that is how you’ve ended up here, in his study, late at night. The sun had long disappeared behind the horizon, its last, weak rays painting the sky in a golden-red colour before they ceased to be visible altogether, replaced by the tranquil darkness of the night.

You’ve been perched on his lap for three whole hours.

Tom hasn’t spoken to you this entire time—instead, he’s been grading papers of first years. Then, homework of the year below you. After, wrote a letter to the Ministry.

Never spared you a single glance.

Every conversation you’ve tried to start ended in a dead end of ever-stretching silence.

The only two things entertaining you are the candles, flickering low in the corner of the room, their shadows dancing on the plain white wall, and the intoxicating scent of his signature cologne. A deep, rich woody note—sandalwood, perhaps—mixed with the crisp aroma of fresh mint.

Oh, and not to forget, one or the other twitch of his cock, which has been nudging uncomfortably at your cervix ever since he made you sink down on him hours ago and hasn’t let you move an inch since.

“Please, Tom,” you whine, shifting on his lap ever so slightly—but his left hand digs into the flesh of your hip in an instant, halting your movements. And again—silence.

Another thirty agonizing minutes pass, and it surely must be 1 or 2 in the morning at this point. Your eyelids grow heavier with each passing moment, and it’s then that he finally puts his quill down and sinks back against his chair, dark brown eyes meeting your own for the first time that night. 

“Jealous little thing,” he sighs after a moment of just staring at you, one or two additional wrinkles etched onto his forehead, eyes glassy and reddened. He too is exhausted. “Are you sorry yet?”

“Sorry for what?” You blurt out a bit too quickly, eyebrows drawing together. None of this was your fault, and yet he had the audacity to ask—

Tom sighs, returning his focus to the stack of papers on his desk. He’d not let you off until you learned that cooperating with him is the only way to end your misery. And although tired, he could do this for hours—which you should already be well aware of.

But you, on the other hand, no longer want to play his game. Your head dips to the crook of his neck, gently trailing kisses down the side of his throat, hands working to loosen his tie—rolling your hips against his as you do.

Just to see how far you could take it until he’d finally lose his patience with you.

Your punishment shall now be his, too.

“Quit that.” he tells you. Once, twice, perhaps three times.

By the fourth time, he huffs another sigh, one of his hands dropping to rest on your thigh, just below the hem of your skirt. The sudden skin-to-skin contact has a soft whimper slip from your lips—his palm hot and steady, the cool rings adorning his fingers a stark contrast to your heated leg.

His quill is still scribbling letters on the fresh parchment, and he is focused on anything but you when his hand wanders higher. Inch by careful inch, until the tips of his fingers slip beneath the thin fabric of your skirt—which has ridden up so far in the meantime, he finds the lace of your panties just a moment later.

“Please,” you whisper again, lips brushing against his ear as you toss his tie to the ground. Anything to get him to pause his work.

Tom still doesn’t seem affected in the slightest, though—dipping his custom-made quill into the black ink to add his signature underneath the content of his letter, folding the parchment and putting it in an envelope before he seals it with red wax.

His thumb, at the same time, draws patterns along the soft material of your underwear—teasingly slow, just shy of where you need him most. 

Half of his shirt is unbuttoned, revealing a sliver of his toned chest when his finger eventually dips lower—brushing right over your center, and the wet spot that has formed on the fabric.

Tom’s gaze drops to your exposed thighs as he feels your arousal dampening his thumb—scoffing lowly, mockingly almost, when he catches a glimpse of the state of the fabric. Ruined and soaked with your slick, although he’s kept you full of him all these hours.

And, what’s worse—you can’t help but grind your hips on only his finger, chasing after the little friction it provides you.

He shakes his head, his second hand on your hips anchoring you to him. “Needy, impatient girl. Whatever should I do with you?”

His voice does things to your brain you are too embarrassed to admit. Raspy with sleep, coiling around you like a curse and sending a wave of heat right to your core—the second time he spoke directly to you since he made you sit on his lap, cock buried deep between your folds as he started busying himself with work.

“Anything,” you whine, cunt clamping down around his invading length with shameful need—but when his lips curl into a smirk you know all too well, you quickly come to regret your plea.

“Get up and bend over my lap,” he says, leaning back against his chair. “And don’t make me tell you twice.”

So you do. Slowly, you lift yourself from his lap, the slow drag of his cock against your sensitive walls effectively short-circuiting your brain, breath catching low in your throat. But you’re too slow for his liking—so he grabs your waist, lifts you off him and turns you around to bend over his lap in one smooth motion.

Tom then bunches your skirt over your hips, a chilly breeze of air sweeping past the now exposed curve of your ass, having goosebumps flood your skin, shivering. He quickly shushes you by caressing the soft skin with his palm, fingers digging into your flesh before he lands a soft smack on your ass.

Experimenting.

When your reaction is nothing less than a needy moan, almost begging for another, the next blow is harsher than the last—the unyielding metal of his rings adding into the sensation, leaving welts blooming on your tender skin as he slaps you another time. 

“How many?” you ask softly, although you already expect what his answer may be.

“Until you apologize.”

Another resounding smack echoes around the tiny room before you get to reply.

By the tenth, the spots he’s struck feel as though on fire, tingling more painfully with every next strike. You squeal in his lap, choking out a sob—but his arm wraps around your waist swiftly, trapping you pressed against him.

He pauses briefly, hand soothing over the irritated skin, kneading tenderly. 

“Sorry yet?”

You shake your head.

“No.”

He scoffs lowly, landing another merciless smack on your ass. “Alright, then.”

And although the predicament you’ve gotten yourself caught in turns you on way more than it should, panties a mess as your professor’s hand corrects your behaviour in a less than appropriate way—you start regretting answering no soon after. Mascara streaks over your cheeks as tears begin spilling from your waterline, every slap harsher and more painful than the last.

And Tom, well, he enjoys this more than he’d want to admit. Angling his palm just right, rings painfully digging into the already sore skin with every single hit. And every broken squeak and whimper of yours, every tear rolling down your pretty face only makes his cock grow harder, straining against the firm fabric of his dress pants.

By what you guess to be the thirtieth, you finally surrender.

“Okay, okay! Please, stop— I am sorry, I am sorry!” you sob, whimpering softly as his hand caresses the curve of your bruised ass, his other gently trailing along your spine.

“There we go. Was it really that difficult?” he hums, fingers already hooking into the flimsy lace of your panties, tugging them down just enough to reveal your glistening cunt to his eyes.

“Soaked, too. Pathetic is what you are,” Tom huffs, parting your folds with his index and middle fingers—leaning over you just to add his spit to the sticky mess. His middle finger lazily drags through your slick, circling teasingly around your entrance, just shy of pushing inside. “Spread your legs, doll. Let me see.”

And that’s just what you do.

Only the tip of his finger enters at first, thrusting slowly until your hips buck and you beg him to give you more.

“Tom, please— don’t tease.” 

Smack!

You yelp at the sudden sting. It’s a reminder that you still aren’t the one giving orders—candles flickering low in the corner at the sudden shift of air.

“If you want something, address me properly.” he says, fingers threading through your hair, tilting your head backwards slightly—just so you’re able to see his strict gaze from the corner of your vision.

“I need you, sir—your fingers, anything. Please.”

He hums lowly as he returns to your cunt, coating his fingers in your slick before he dips them inside merely an inch—a satisfied, throaty groan reverberating in his chest.

“Look at yourself. Stretched open so beautifully already—sucking me right in.”

You can only offer a croaky whimper in reply, every inch, every ridge of his fingers setting your nerves aflame with lust and hunger for more—clenching down around him, hands clutching at his thighs as your nails dig into his flesh.

“More— please more, sir.” Your plea is answered just a moment later when he digs deeper, working you open around his long, slender fingers, momentarily stealing your breath away at the stretch—and his rings only add to the friction, cold metal biting into your sensitive walls with every deliberate drag of his fingers.

“You are fucking soaking me. That good?” Tom rasps, lips curving into a smirk as he curls his fingers just like he learned has your vision go dark around the edges and stars dance in front of your eyes. 

“Y— yes, God, yes,” you squeal, thighs trembling as his fingertips find the exact spot he’s been looking for—caressing the spongey spot gently until he feels you pulse and throb around him.

It’s only been three minutes since he’s entered you, and you are already dripping around him, orgasm approaching faster than you’d like.

The mere sensation of his ring-clad fingers driving in and out of your pussy in quick succession has your mind go blank, clear liquid gushing out around his digits as he works you closer and closer to your high—not caring about the mess you’re making on his fine, hand-tailored trousers.

“Please— please,” you half-sob when his thumb presses down on your swollen clit, fingers thrusting deeper—and you are ready to tip over the edge and let the pleasure he’s denied you for so long consume you.

But instead he withdraws when he feels your walls fluttering around him.

You whine at the sudden loss, his arm circling your waist again, pulling you closer to him before he smacks you three more times, too quick for you to even try to stop him—instead squealing and apologizing. For what, you don’t know exactly.

“Please what? Use your words, brat.” he says, his hand wandering from your waist to your throat, pressing down—just enough to make you feel lightheaded.

“Please let me cum, sir.” you gasp, begging for the release you’ve been craving for more than four hours now.

Tom adds another finger when he enters you again a second later, stretching you taut around him—the naughtiest moan slipping from your lips at the burning sensation between your thighs.

It reminds you of the first time he thrust himself into you—whispering soothing praises into your ear, calling you his good girl…

But today, you weren’t good.

And if you really think he’ll let you cum after all this—you are mistaken.

His thumb is back on your swollen clit as he feels you tighten, walls eagerly clenching and pulsing around him—and judging by the way your muscles tense, breath catching in your throat, you are right there. Right on the edge of the orgasm he won’t let you reach.

And then, when you’re about to tip over the edge, drowning in the overwhelming waves of your high—he pulls away at once, leaving your cunt to pulse and clamp down around nothing, a broken whimper escaping your parted lips.

Then, he slaps your clit, hard.

“Brats don’t deserve to come. And that’s precisely what you were today.”

A tear rolls down your cheek, but you don’t protest—it’s no use. Even if you did—it’d most likely result in the exact opposite of what you want.

So, you stay bent over his lap until your thighs stop trembling, and he helps you sit upright again—placing you right above his painfully hard cock. You sob, once, twice, wiping your tears on his expensive suit as his hand caresses your head.

Tom can’t help but smile to himself at the state of you—exhausted, fucked out, all while he didn’t even let you come.

Gorgeous.

He then cups your face, making you look at him and brushing his fingers over your lips.

“You soaked me, filthy girl. Clean up your mess.”

As if on command, your mouth parts for him, granting him entrance as your tongue obediently works to lick your own arousal from his skin—staring right into his chocolate brown eyes which have a satisfied glint to them.

After you’re done, he presses his lips to yours, kissing you gently—letting you rest against him before he hauls you from his lap. 

At the same time, he frees himself from the confinement of his trousers, leaving them to pool around his ankles—and just the sight of his rock-hard length has you swallow hard.

But it’s not what you expect that comes next—of course it isn’t.

“On your knees,” he drawls, threading his fingers through your hair, gently tugging you down to drop to the floor of his study. 

“And now, open your bratty mouth like the good girl your parents think you are.”

thank you for reading! feel free to reblog and leave feedback <3 — masterlist. | kinktober.

©2025 viperify. please do not copy, translate or claim my work as your own.

[birdofwildness]

Tw::cheating

Boyfriend’s dad!Tom Riddle who doesn’t bother hiding the way his eyes drag over your body, even when Mattheo’s right there beside you.

Boyfriend’s dad!Tom Riddle who leans down a little too close when he speaks, lips brushing your ear as he rasps, “You really ought to be more careful, dove. Someone might think you’re tempting me.”

Boyfriend’s dad!Tom Riddle who spreads his thighs wide on the sofa so your knees press against his, smirking when you squirm but making no move to give you more space.

Boyfriend’s dad!Tom Riddle who lets his hand linger on your lower back when he passes behind you, pressing just enough to make you stumble forward and gasp.

Boyfriend’s dad!Tom Riddle who tugs your skirt down when it rides up but does it slowly, deliberately, his fingertips grazing your bare thigh as his lips curl into the faintest smirk.

Boyfriend’s dad!Tom Riddle who insists you sit beside him at dinner, knee brushing yours under the table, and when Mattheo isn’t looking, his fingers trace lazy patterns on your thigh.

Boyfriend’s dad!Tom Riddle who pulls you into family photos with his arm slung heavy over your shoulder, thumb brushing the swell of your chest, and doesn’t even try to move when you stiffen.

Boyfriend’s dad!Tom Riddle who murmurs “princess” when you walk past him in those little pajamas, eyes dragging down your body like you belong to him already.

Boyfriend’s dad!Tom Riddle who catches you staring at his bulge through his dress slacks, raises a brow, and chuckles low.

Boyfriend’s dad!Tom Riddle who doesn’t care if Mattheo is in the next room.he’ll brush his hand against your hip, whisper in your ear, smirk when you flush, daring you to keep quiet.

Ya girl is so nervous because of tomorrow 😭 I have a bio exam.

[moscatosin]

🖤 500 - tom riddle 🖤

doe eyed tom & a no strings attached agreement. bloody perfect. enjoy with a rum and coke. for @viperify & @juliet-017. mdni but pretty tame xoxo

The first time you and Tom have sex – it’s isn’t for love, nor necessity. Please – it’s just a matter of pure unadulterated convenience. To him, you’re nothing more than a valve for his release from the constant pressures Hogwarts demands from him and for you… well, it’s the golden opportunity to earn bragging rights of being the only girl to tame the obstinate prefect.

You both swore black and blue that it was going to be a one-time thing, or at least – that’s what you remember agreeing to between moans as your teeth sunk into his bed sheets. Head down, ass up, skin pluming the daintiest and most humiliating shades of ever-red crimson. It was rough, it was raw, it was brute.

Tom had been walking towards the Astronomy Tower one night to break up a party after curfew – you had been walking back to your dorm tipsy and high as anything. You smiled – he scowled. You twirled a strand of hair around your fingertips – he adjusted his tie. You licked your lips – his eyes dropped to follow. You whispered that he looked stressed – he agreed with a sigh that held no weight. You offered yourself up to be used – he took advantage of the opportunity exactly as you’d expected he would.

Fifteen minutes. The whole thing lasted for a little more than fifteen minutes and by the end of it, your legs could barely carry you back to your own dorm, but hey – it was exactly what you had expected from him; nothing more, nothing less.

The perfect transaction – Tom got his release, you got your pussy ruined, no strings attached, no feelings, just heat, fuck, peace.

Or well.. it should have been the perfect transaction. For that to of occurred though, what happened behind closed doors between the two of you was meant to just be a one time thing, a one night stand, a hook up, a fling, wham bam thank you Merlin.

And yeah – it was… almost two years ago now.

Fast forward from 5th year to 7th year and this bizarre ‘agreement’ had warped into an inexplainable courtship. Not that there was romance involved – hell no, you’d both deny it if ever called out on it, but after the second, third and fourth time, you figured that this unconventional intimacy was maybe, a little more than either of you had expected.

You began keeping a journal, documenting for your own amusement every intimate meet up – how long it latest, Tom’s likes and dislikes, how he responded to pet names, what got him into a feral mood, what made him snap, the places, the risk factor, if you ever kissed, the number of times you’d orgasmed.

Two years. 24 months. 104 weeks. 730 days. 17,532 hours. That’s how long it took to get to fuck 500. Not that you were counting… ha, joking, you most definitely were.

Tonight was different. Not in what you were doing; the sex was always the same - but in the way it felt. Usually, it was just heat, release, a ruthless hunger. Tonight, it was… charged. Electric. Almost sacred rather than you just being used.

The two of you hadn’t planned on meeting up tonight. Tom was meant to be attending a Slug Club dinner and you had planned on going out to Hogsmeade for drinks with the girls, but on the way to your respective arrangements, the two of you had passed by one another in a quiet corridor – a daring look exchanged, a curl of lips, a cheeky wink - - and next thing you knew it, you had your back pressed hard against his bed, fingers tangled into his hair, his mouth swallowing your whimpers, hips rocking in unison as his touch which dragged along your waist felt lighter, almost sacred.

This was the first time that the two of you had been completely undressed. Fully exposed. Usually, it was just your panties shoved to the side or Tom’s shirt still left on. The gold glow from flickering candlelight painted the most intricate of shadows across his body, highlighting the scars on his chest you’d always noticed but never knew whether to ask about while at the same time washing over you to subtly highlight the delicacy of your curves.

“Baby..”

Just that word – oh so innocuous, so dangerous - made Tom snap his gaze up, dark eyes glinting with both irritation and hunger. His hand wrapped around your throat, both to restrain and claim you. The thrusts slowed, then paused; leaving your cunt a playground for him, just teasing, before his eyes devoured yours.

“…fuck 500.”

Tom’s smirk cracked into something forbidden, something sinful. His breathing hitched as he drank you in. Delicious.

Liar.

“Wondered how long it would take you to mention it.”

“Oh, so you’ve been keeping track now have you, Tommy?”

“Me? Never.”

Biting your lip, heat blossomed beneath your teeth, rolling into a soft, involuntary whimper.

“Make it special?”

The word slipped out before your mind could stop it. Special. Ha! The idea made you want to both laugh and shiver. Perhaps repent. Riddle intimacy wasn’t special. It was contractual. Obligational. Intimacy was sex. Sex was utility, necessity, indulgence. Romance? Not a Riddle’s style. Or at least that’s what he’d constantly remind you.

Yet Tom’s laugh – an unfamiliar, warm, throaty sound, dragged you in. Forehead resting to forehead, his hand found one of your own, fingers entwined, he pinned you down, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“Stay the night.”

The thrusts began again and you swore you had just seen stars; your body beginning to explode around him.

The burn of his cock as it dragged between your folds and slammed back in to fill you to the hilt caused your pussy to clench at hearing that word. You must have been fucking dreaming, otherwise – perhaps the Slytherin headboy currently above you who had been using you for nothing but his own pleasure since fuck one had become…

“Excu--.”

“Stay.”

Maybe he was sick? Perhaps now was the time to ask if he could get you out of that detention Dumbledore had given you for being tardy to class 3 weeks running. Ohh, maybe you could get him to moan your name? Maybe you could get him to fess up that he liked your company more than just physically? Maybe – Maybe.

Soft?

Needy?

Tender?

Almost… human.

You were pulled from your daydream as he nipped rather playfully at your collarbone and peppered kisses up along your neck, across your jaw and pressed one ever so softly to your lips.

“Stay the night”, Tom confirmed exactly what he had meant with words and tone that were absolutely deliberate. You smiled; so did he. His big brow doe eyes were fucking entrancing. “..but in the morning, I want the best blowjob you’ve ever given a guy in your life.”

Thanks Tom.

Thanks for ruining the lustful fantasy you’d fallen within.

As for the morning – well; it would be one that he was surely never to forget.

[viperify]

I love all your works, I think I’ve read them all!❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

I don’t know if you’re taking requests right now, but if you are… could you write one where Tom and the reader are best friends, and she trusts him with everything, so she offers her virginity to him? And Tom secretly has a fixation with her skirts and underwear when he would check her drawers? (Sorry if this is too weird lol)

oneshots | ᴛᴏᴍ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ X ᴠɪʀɢɪɴ ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

♡︎ ⏦ﾟWANNA BE YOURS.

SUMMARY: Tom Riddle had been your best friends since childhood, and you never saw him as more than that—until one shared afternoon changed everything.

WARNINGS: MATURE CONTENT. loss of virginity, soft sex, unprotected p in v, fingering, praise, lots of kisses, creampie, panty-stealing

AUTHOR’S NOTE: thank you for requesting baby!! I made Tom a little softer here (save for the panty stealing lol)

wordcount: 3,1k

For years you had been listening to your best friends’ stories about their first time. Some told you it had been painful, others were too drunk to remember even half of it.

You’d always told yourself you’d wait for the right guy, take your time with it. No rush. However, years had passed since then, and no one seemed to even be interested in you. 

You’d never had a boyfriend, maybe kissed one or two guys at parties who, the next day, avoided looking your way.

For a long time you blamed it on yourself—until you found out as to why everyone was ignoring you.

Tom.

Your best friend since childhood. 

You were aware that when you two were together, no one even dared spare you as much as a glance—but you’d assumed that it was limited to Tom, and not yourself.

Until, well, a drunk Slytherin guy slung his arm around your shoulder, slurring out barely coherent words as he sat you down on the couch.

“Y-Y’know. Y’re such a—hiccup—pretty girl. If— Riddle let me close to you—he leaned in—I’d ma—make you mine in an i-instant.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, lips parting with the need to dig further—but before you could even ask what he was talking about, another friend of his quickly dragged him away from your side and back into the crowd.

Though tipsy, the words clung to you like the scent of alcohol and smoke in the air. Even when you returned to your dorm that night, you remembered his exact words, and they replayed in your head over and over again.

Was Tom keeping them away? Is that what he was trying to tell you?

The next morning, you were determined to find the guy who’d so proudly told you he’d make you his in no time if it weren’t for Tom. Normally you’d go for breakfast with him—but today, you decided to leave ten minutes earlier so you could speak to him alone.

Luckily, he sat on the far end of the table, with one friend by his side—and you shamelessly used that opportunity to get close to him.

Placing your plate on the wooden surface, you sat down on the bench right next to him.

For a moment, he interrupted the conversation with his friend and turned to face you—eyes widening slightly as he realised it was you.

“Hi,” you greeted with a soft smile. “I was just wondering what—“

“Good morning.”

The familiar, raspy morning voice of Tom interrupted your attempt to receive more information, the two friends quickly moving a whole ten metres up the dining table as he lowered himself next to you. His breakfast was the usual—two non-toasted toasts with a thin layer of raspberry jam and a cup filled with chamomile tea.

You sighed, though more to yourself. “Good morning.”

Tom raised an eyebrow at your unenthusiastic greeting, gently putting down the knife he had just picked up. “What’s the matter with you? Did he bother you?”

Quickly shaking your head, you took a bite of your toast. “No, he didn’t. Don’t worry about it.”

“Alright,” he said, though still not entirely satisfied with your answer. “What did he want?”

You shrugged at that. “He didn’t say anything. I sat down next to him.”

A knot formed in Tom’s throat. First, you didn’t wait for him in the morning, and now you chose to sit next to a guy that had never spoken to you before.

“Growing tired of me?” he asked, intending to sound sarcastic—though he failed miserably. It sounded as though an accusation at most.

You almost choked on your drink. Tom normally wasn’t that straightforward with his words. “No! No, never, Tom. It’s just— you know.”

He nodded, finally picking up his knife again to cut straight down the middle of the toast. Psychopath.

“You’ll find someone.”

You shrugged. “I guess so.”

Tom was aware how desperate you’d grown to find a boyfriend over the years. It’d been almost painful listening to you complain about how nobody seemed to be interested in you or ask you out for the annual Yule ball while all your friends had a dancing partner.

All while he was right there.

He had waited patiently for you to come to him. Warm up to the idea of him by your side, not as your friend but as your boyfriend. It never happened. He was fine with it. 

Just like he was with the fact no one dared ask you out because of him.

──

Tom realised something about himself the moment you draped your legs over his lap during another more-than-boring History of Magic lesson. The professor had long fallen asleep, and the only thing you could do was read the text passages yourself—which took less than 15 minutes without your teacher adding useless facts along the way.

Your skirt had ridden up over your knees, showing a fair bit of your plush thighs—and as much as he tried focusing on anything but that, he couldn’t help himself. The hand in his pocket did little to conceal the dent that had formed in his trousers—his cock straining against the tight, grey school uniform.

It was almost embarrassing how much he wished to take you to his dorm and forget about your friendship in that moment—but instead, he softly placed his hand on the bare skin of your knees and dealt with it. He knew only this many Quidditch players, but the mere thought of that useless sport helped to lessen his excitement rapidly.

──

Tom blamed prefect duties the first time you caught him exiting your dorm.

“I was tasked to check whether the lights still worked. There was a short outage.”

You believed him that time. Didn’t notice anything strange in your room either. Nothing seemed off, and you went on with your day as normal.

Not quite realising that Tom had, in fact, not come to check the electricity at all.

Instead, a few days prior, he had studied your timetable when you left for the bathroom during one of your shared tutoring sessions.

You’d be busy for thirty more minutes after his last lesson ended. Perfect.

Quickly glancing around, he entered your dorm without a second thought. The image of your skirt and thighs hadn’t quite left his mind since that one lesson, and he soon came to the realisation he could just borrow one—right?

He would give it back after all, before you even noticed it was gone in the first place.

Maybe.

Tom first searched your closet, then your drawers for them. And he found what he wanted—a fresh pair of your skirts, smelling like pretty flowers and fresh herbs—just like you did. 

It wasn’t his fault, not really, when he stumbled over your laundry bag on the way out and a dirty pair of your panties presented itself to his eyes. 

He picked it up at once, admiring the fine, burgundy lace before he hastily shoved it in his pocket, your skirt neatly folded in his bag.

Just as he had stuffed the rest of your clothes back into the laundry bag and was ready to leave, the door creaked open, and a rather confused you entered the dorm at the sight of him.

His excuse had worked this time. And, later that night, alone in his bed—he was more than satisfied with his new treasures.

Although intended, he never gave them back. In fact, every few weeks, when your smell had completely vanished, he exchanged them—sneaking into your dorm for a new pair of each of your skirts and panties. And the best part was that you didn’t seem to notice—not until he unknowingly took your favourite skirt.

You complained the entire week about not being able to find it, and with a heavy heart he returned the skirt when you were out with your friends on Friday evening.

──

Saturday had always been your day together. Reading, tutoring, homework, talking—either of those always kept you two busy as you spent your afternoon in his dorm together. 

You were currently cuddled into his side, your newest read in your hands as you occasionally asked him about his opinion. That’s how you’d always done it since you were children—picking a book you both liked and reading it together while you shared your opinions.

But your mind had now wandered elsewhere, something that had plagued you for months stuck in the forefront of your mind as you listened to his soft breathing.

“I was thinking, you know,” you murmured, playing with a loose thread hanging from the sleeve of his robes. His eyes flicked from the page of his book to your face, studying your closed expression before he lifted an eyebrow and put his book down.

“You’re always thinking. What is it this time?”

Trying to phrase this correctly was harder than you’d anticipated. You didn’t dare meet his eyes as you felt him staring right at you, heat creeping onto your cheeks.

“We’ve known each other for so long, and I was just thinking that— maybe I could— we could, you know—“ you stumbled over your words, suddenly feeling weirded out by yourself.

What if he said no? Would you ruin your friendship asking for a stupid favour?

He cleared his throat. “Could what? You will have to be more precise if you want something, sweetheart.”

Tom only ever used pet names to tease you—but now, that very pet name sent a wave of arousal straight to your core, thighs clenching before you could stop them.

And he noticed, of course he did.

“I want you to take my virginity, Tom.” The words left your lips before you even realised it, and instantly your cheeks burnt up in embarrassment, shaking your head. “No, I am sorry. That was stupid to say. Forget it.”

Tom was stunned for a moment. He couldn’t decide whether it was the best day of his life or the worst—he would lose his childhood best friend, after all. But for the better—because there was no way he’d ever let you leave his side after this.

He was thinking for just a moment too long, and in the meantime you had already scrambled out of bed, quickly stuffing your book in your tote bag before you hurried to the door. Tom nearly tripped as he chased after you, grabbing your wrist before he spun you around. 

“I thought you’d never ask.”

He didn’t waste another second before pressing his lips to yours, letting all his pent-up frustration flow into the kiss.

For years had he dreamed about the moment he’d finally get to feel your lips on his. He expected it to be gentle, soft, and slow—maybe with you on his lap in the gardens behind a bush, or perhaps against a tree in the forbidden forest.

Though, it turned out the opposite. A rushed kiss as he pressed you against the wooden door of his dorm. All heat and tongue until you parted, gasping for air.

Tom had you sat on his lap in no time, brushing slow kisses along your jaw and down the most sensitive spots of your neck, as if he’d known your body longer than you did.

His fingers in the meanwhile worked at the buttons of your blouse, gently undoing them one after the other until he reached the last. Tom then stopped briefly, placing another kiss on your lips.

“You feel safe with me, yes? You trust me?”

“Yes,” you breathed, letting the fabric slip down your shoulders. His darkened eyes raked over your chest, still covered by your bralette—his hand reaching out to gently cup your breast over the material, thumb lazily drawing circles over your perky nipple.

You gasped at the feeling, rocking your hips against his—dragging your heat over the prominent bulge in his pants.

Tom let out a throaty grunt at that, fingers digging into your skin as he unclasped the back of the lace covering your chest. “Can’t wait any longer. Need to feel you, now.”

With a practised move, he flipped the both of you over, tugging your skirt down the length of your legs, leaving you almost bare beneath him. Tom pressed another soft kiss to your lips and chin as he undid his belt with one hand, letting the leather hit the wooden planks with a sharp metallic clank.

His shirt followed, quickly tossed to the far end of his dorm, and as did his trousers.

“You’re still sure about this?” he drawled, head dipping—his voice soft and smooth like honey as his words vibrated right against the shell of your ear.

You nodded softly, cupping his face to place a kiss on the corner of his mouth. “Yes. Please, Tommy.”

A grin tugged at his lips at the nickname. You were the only person allowed to call him that. For most students, he was either Riddle, or, for friends, Tom. 

But Tommy was exclusively yours. 

His lips trailed kisses down your sternum and tummy until he reached the waistband of your panties. Brown eyes staring up at yours from between your thighs, searching for any doubt on your face—and when he didn’t find any, his fingers curled into the fabric, slowly dragging it down your thighs and letting it drop to the floor.

Tom swallowed thickly at the sight of you, his best friend, bare beneath him. Bare. Beneath.Him. And Merlin, you were more beautiful than he’d ever imagined. Gorgeous curves, plush thighs, and your pretty, shy eyes glancing up at him.

He’d waited far too long for this.

Finally leaning over you to press a kiss to your forehead, he freed himself from his underwear, letting the aching length of his cock rest against his lower abdomen. His hand slipped between your bodies, thumb circling your clit before his index and middle finger dragged down your slit, coating himself in your arousal.

Your hips bucked at the unfamiliar sensation, and you let out a quiet gasp that was quickly silenced by his lips.

“Stay still for me, darling.” Tom instructed, gently pushing inside you. He stayed still for a moment when you winced, letting you accustom to the stretch of his fingers before he set a slow rhythm, scissoring you open for him.

“Doing so well for me,” he murmured against your collarbone, and a few thrusts later, he exited your warmth, circling your clit again. “Ready?”

“Yes,” you gasped, teeth sinking into your lower lip at the blissful sensation between your thighs. “Want to feel you, please”

You didn’t have to tell him twice. Tom breathed heavily against your neck as his tip dragged between the heat of your folds, pressing against your entrance. “Breathe, pretty girl. Just breathe.”

When you nodded, he pushed forward an inch or two—barely fitting the head inside you, stopping when your nails dug into his biceps and you grimaced at the stretch. 

“Hurts,” you managed with a pained voice, and he tilted your head up to kiss you once more. “Shhh. I know. Relax for me.”

Tom waited patiently until you loosened around him, only then pushing in further, inch by careful inch, until he was pressed flush against your skin. Another soft wince tumbled over your lips when he withdrew bit by bit and pushed back in.

“Look at you. Taking me so well already. Such a good girl for me,” he praised, nipping at the soft skin of your neck as he gently thrust in and out of you. “Feel good now?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, pleasure slowly but surely replacing the initial pain. “More, please.”

Tom groaned in approval, slightly picking up his pace. He let you accustom to him fully until his thumb drew circles on your puffy clit again, feeling the pulse of your warm and gummy walls around him as he did.

He had to bring back his renowned Quidditch player thoughts to stop himself from cumming too early—the sight of your flushed, glistening body and the feeling of you wrapped so tightly and perfectly around him almost too much to bear.

Though, it didn’t take long for you to follow course—hands fisting at his satin bedsheets, a warm and pleasant sensation spreading throughout your whole body as your cunt fluttered around his invading cock.

“I think— I think I am going to—“ you stammered, feeling your brain grow hazy, suddenly wanting to feel him deeper, faster, anything.

Tom smirked down at you, burying himself to the hilt as though he’d read your mind. “Going to come? Come with me, sweetheart.”

His thumb’s pace increased, drawing fast and tight circles on your sensitive clit as his tip repeatedly brushed over that spot inside you he’d found minutes ago.

Your eyes wandered to his, softened now, looking down at you with a reassuring intensity. His face was flushed pink, his dark curls stuck to his forehead as a bead of sweat trickled down his temple.

He was gorgeous, even like this—and you wondered why you failed to realise it for this long. His palm closed over your hand, and when he leaned in to press his lips to yours, your body gave up on holding back—your orgasm washing over you in intense, mind-numbing waves, fireworks exploding behind your eyes as you clung to him.

Tom followed shortly after, groaning into the crook of your neck as he painted your walls white with his release—collapsing on top of you after his high subsided. Your hand buried itself in his hair, gently massaging his scalp as you felt his heartbeat thrum against your chest.

It was raw and beautiful. It was similar to how your friends had described it to you all these years—but in addition to their experiences, you felt loved and cared for.

Especially when he got up to clean the both of you and let you cuddle into his side afterwards, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

“You did so well. I am proud of you.” he murmured against your hair as he pulled you closer. “And just to be clear—you’re mine now. No other guys. Just me.”

You smiled at his soft yet possessive words. “Always have been yours, Tommy. Always have been.”

thank you so much for reading! <3 feel free to reblog and leave feedback! :3 — masterlist. | oneshots.

©2025 viperify. please do not copy, translate or claim my work as your own.

@yuunarii-arii wanted to be tagged so here ya go sweetheart! ❣️

[juliet-017]

Minors DNI

Tom Riddle x Abraxas Malfoy x Reader

Warnings: Threesome (Tom ‘directs’ it somewhat), Coercion, Anal, Double penetration, Unprotected p in v, creampie, slight impact play, brief degradation, let me know if I missed anything!

Synopsis: After

a/n: Hii!! Sorry for going MIA I've officially started med school and it's.. work! I'll write when able but no promises on dead lines 💔 thank you @nottslove for giving me this idea and @viperify for thirsting over these men with me whilst writing.. it turned out better than I expected.

Part 1!!

wc: 1.9k

To put it lightly, the Slytherin boys' dorm was tense. Abraxas and Arcturus constantly got into fights, which left Tom to subdue them. This constantly destroyed the group's dynamic, cutting short meetings or ruining tasks Tom had requested when the two couldn't get along for more than two minutes.

It started simple, a Hogsmeade trip where Tom had requested to speak to Abraxas alone.

“So you really did it? Stole his girlfriend then?” Tom asks, taking a drag of his cigarette.

“No. Not really.” Abraxas responds smoothly, smug as ever, acting as if Tom couldn't sense the nerves radiating off of him from halfway across England.

“Don't lie to me, you cut our conversation short just to see her. I'd have to be an idiot to think you'd just chat with her."

Abraxas thanked Merlin for the abandoned alleyway by the Hogs Head for once. “What? Jealous?” He hums, an arrogant smirk taking over his face as he swipes the cigarette from Tom to take his own drag.

“I'm not falling fool for another one of your juvenile tricks."

“Just means I'm right.”

“No, it does not.”

“Whatever you say, my lord.” The words sardonic on Abraxas’ tongue.

Silence ensues, Abraxas furrows his brows as he looks back up at Tom. Despising the latter's ability to mask his emotions so easily. “What?”

“Nothing.” He hums, taking the cigarette back and dropping it on the cobblestone ground. “I'm just wondering if shagging a Gryffindor is really worth tearing our group, and possibly our whole message into shambles.”

Abraxas stalls, trying to decipher any possible different meanings. “She knew what to do, I've had worse.” He shrugs. “Probably one of my best, quite a few tricks up her sleeve.” He grins as the memories come back.

Tom pushes off the wall. “Come.” He instructs simply, causing Abraxas to sharply jump and follow him.

“Where are we going?” He asks, despite blindly following Tom.

“Well if two people I trust enough to be in my group have seen the same girl, I have to see what all the fuss is about. She may be valuable, after all, a quarter isn't some minuscule amount.”

Abraxas nods, following Tom throughout the paths of Hogsmead.

**

All you were planning was a simple outing with your mates, buying too many sweets at Honeydukes, perhaps a new book alongside some more school supplies.

Upon leaving Times and Scrolls, arms full from your stops so far in the day, laughing at a joke. The laughter in your group diminished when Abraxas approaches the lot of you.

“May I have a word?” He asks, the words painfully familiar as you nod, departing from your friends and telling them to go to the next shop without you.

He takes your hand, maneuvering you through the bustling crowds to a semi-abandoned pathway. “Coming back for seconds already?” You tease, looking up at him.

“Oh please, like you weren't dreaming of this moment.” He purrs, looking down at you and running his eyes over your figure. “But it's not for me per se.”

“And what's that supposed to mean?”

“Well one of my friends made a proposition, he may have heard how.. open you are.”

You furrow your brows before shaking your head. “What? No, I'm- I'm not open I just..” you stammer over your words trying to form an argument. “And for you to go on and spread what we did? You're vile.”

“I think that our shared time in a professor's office, let alone your head of house’s office, speaks over that, darling.” He argues, causing you to scoff.

“Who is it?”

As if on cue, you watch Tom Riddle simply walk round the corner, as if the two had plotted such a dramatic entrance.

You almost laugh at the absurdity of it all. “You can't be serious? I mean I thought you hated Gryffindors, Riddle.”

“Curiosity killed the cat.” He replies simply, looking down at you with his ever-so-dead eyes.

You hate how you want to cave. “You two are imbeciles, honestly why did I think you actually had something of importance to tell me Malfoy?” You scoff, forcing yourself to turn on your heels to walk away.

You stumble, feeling a sharp pull on your hair, and exclaiming when you're pulled back, your eyes meeting Tom’s.

“So you're going to pass up the opportunity? Don't you see how half the birds in this school drool over me? Not to mention Abraxas.. I think half of them would serve a lifetime sentence in Azkaban to be in your shoes. You're so lucky and you don't even know it.”

You open your mouth to argue, eyes flitting between the two before fixing in. “I- okay yeah.. but we're going back to Hogwarts for this.. right?” You ask, half regretting your choice, your nerves on end.. but Tom’s right. It's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, even if it's - defiling it'll give you bragging rights.

“Of course, love.” Tom purrs. The two taking your books and bags from you to free up your hands on the journey back.

**

Luckily, nobody interrupted you three on the trek back. And, there were no pesky first years in the Slytherin common room.

It doesn't quite hit you again till you're standing slightly awkward in the corner, the dorm room you recognized from the times Arcturus had snuck you in.

Tom simply shrugs his coat off, hanging it up as Malfoy did the same then helps you with your own.

The, the three of you standing in awkward silence with bated breath.

Abraxas moved first, looking down at you, tilting your chin to force you to make eye contact. “Are you sure you're okay with this?” He asks quietly.

You hum in thought. “I mean.. as long as neither of you go about telling the whole school-”

“We won't.” Tom speaks up from behind you.

You nod. “Okay then.. I suppose so.”

Abraxas grins like a niffler who has just found a room full of gold. “Now let's get a bit more comfortable, shall we?” He asks, picking you up and slinging you over his shoulder. You can barely process before your back hits a bed and Abraxas is on top of you like a starved animal, kissing you ferociously.

He pulls apart, only to messily begin to strip himself, you start to do the same.. not getting very far till you're pinned back down again by the blonde’s weight, his sloppy open-mouthed kisses alongside your neck.

He kisses down your sternum, ridding you of your bra, only stopping right about the band of your panties.

He stops, lifting his head to look over at Tom. “You want a turn?” He asks, eyes lit in amusement and pleasure as you squirm under him.

He shakes his head, dress shirt barely even undone. “No, no.. not yet.” A beat passes before he continues. “I want her to ride you first.”

He chuckles, his gaze flitting between the two of you. “Seriously, Riddle?”

Tom nods. Your nerves only rise, but you swallow thickly, nodding your head. “C’mon Brax, let's just do it, yeah?” You hum, he obliges by helping you get your panties off and quickly stripping his boxers before unexpectedly rolling so you're atop him.

A small squeal escapes you as you come back to your senses, straddling his waist. You adjust, moving backwards slightly only to find him rock hard.

You rock up onto your knees just slightly, holding yourself up as you align his cock, running it through your folds some before sinking down. He reaches out to assist, albeit too late, but it's enough to make adjusting easier.

“Breathe, Ma poupée..” Abraxas hums, letting you relax and adjust to him. He’s bigger than you remember. You attribute it to the position.

His hands on your hips helping guide you, your hands taking purchase on his chest as you ride him, small moans already escaping you as you tilt your head back in pleasure.

Abraxas mutters out a few curses, groaning as his own eyes flutter shut. You almost forget that Tom is even there, too lost in the movements and ecstasy.. till you hear a gagging noise.

Your eyes flit open to find Abraxas sucking Tom off, heat starting to grow inyour stomach at the sight.

As if he has a sixth sense for it, Tom's gaze finds yours, smirking as he guides Abraxas’ head, his fingers intertwined in the frosty locks. “What.. are you jealous? Don't worry, you'll get your turn soon enough.” Tom chides, clicking his tongue.

A pathetic whine escapes you as you continue to sloppily ride Abraxas, your legs already getting tired as he ruts up into you on occasion, only causing you to moan louder.

You slouch slightly, just in time. Tom grasps your hair, freeing himself from Abraxas’ mouth and bringing his tip to your lips, prompting you to open.

You comply, taking his length in your mouth. You can taste the cum on his tip.. Merlin, he must've been quiet. In no time, you feel him thrust deep, hitting the back of your throat as Abraxas returns his full attention to guiding your hips and fondling your breasts where he can.

The heat in your abdomen still grows at a steady pace, building and multiplying as Tom’s thrusts become a bit sloppier, pulling your face flush against his abdomen before releasing deep into your throat. You swallow after he pulls out, moving to clean him up, but he moves too quickly, bringing your face back up to Abraxas’.

Too fucked out to think properly, you bring your lips to his. The kiss distracts you from where Tom has moved to, barely registering the wetness of saliva at your hole, a light movement over it as if testing the waters.

You barely have the time to look over your shoulder to see what's happening till you feel twice as full, your chest falling a bit more flush against Abraxas’ as you feel Tom slowly begin to move, taking over your hips and moving you so you move equally on their cocks. “Such a slut, taking us both so well,” Tom grunts from behind you.

Abraxas now uses his free hands to play with your tits, eventually slipping one down to toy with your clit. “Fuck your clenching around me so tight.” He groans, tilting his head back as he floats in the feeling.

You only whine in response, too fucked out to even think. A sharp slap on your arse causes you to clench from a mix of surprise and arousal.

You can only focus on your pleasure anymore, the heat only growing as you feel Tom and Abraxas’ cocks moving at a similar pace, rubbing together save for the thin muscles separating the two.

Their words run together as you feel yourself come up on a teetering edge, barely any wait before you tumble over, cumming louder than you ever remember.

Your body relaxes, allowing the two to fuck you through your high, along with reaching their own. Tom simply casts a charm or two to clean the three of you up, the room thick with sweat and sex as labored breathing fills the air.

It takes a while for you to even be able to register what happened, or be able to push yourself up and glance around the room.. only to realize this angle of it looks familiar.

“Is this Arcturus’ bed…?” You ask slowly, as if to make sure you haven't gone mental.

It's only when Abraxas grins that you know for sure. “Had to get back at the prat one last time somehow.”

[ilililiilililiilililiil]

{ 𝑩𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒃 } ꔛ 𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒚 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒓𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝑴𝒂𝒕𝒕'𝒔 𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒆…

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 . . . SMUT. Chratt (Do not read if you're uncomfortable with this.) 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 . . . Doll .ᐟ Reader x Matt Sturniolo x Chris Sturniolo 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 . . . Dividers by me ʚ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ɞ

“Mmmmm,” you moan, your hands tangled in Matt’s hair as you ride his face. It all felt so good, unbearably so. You could feel him suck on your throbbing clit harder and harder, smirking from below you as you screamed and moaned.

The same high is building - another orgasm. You’d lost count at this point, but Chris was counting for you, making sure to hold on tight to your hips as he kept you in place. Both boys were attacking you with their lips. Matt’s were devouring your pussy like a starved man. He was getting more pussy drunk with each orgasm. And Chris seemed to get drunk with him somehow, completely high off watching you scream and writhe. 

“Hold still,” Chris husks, his hands clasping hard on your hips as your knees start to tense and pull you off of Matt’s face. But Chris makes sure you stay put, Matt’s lips becoming more frantic as he feels you squirm.

Your mouth drops open, complete silence from a deaf scream. It feels so fucking good. You couldn’t take it anymore, but you also couldn’t stop. Today was rough. And when Matt and Chris realized that you just needed some real relief - they took it to the extreme, making your brain a pile of mush so you could finally stop thinking. 

And you weren’t thinking anymore. You couldn’t. Not when you could feel the vibrations of Matt moaning against your puffy clit. Not when you could hear Chris panting praises into your ear between sloppy kisses placed on your neck. 

“Is he makin’ you feel so good, Dolly? Oh…” he huffs, laughing dryly as your hips move uncontrollably, a clear liquid spraying all over Matt’s face and the bed sheets, “-that good, hm? Fuckkkkkk, look at that….” Chris swipes his hand over your quivering thigh, smearing the fluid all over your skin. 

Matt finally takes a breath for some much needed air. His hands rest on your ass, kneading the flesh as his chest sucks in large huffs. “Squirtin’ all over my face now? You - fuck - so good for us, sweetheart. So good.” 

You’re spent. The shaking in your limbs only amplifies as you hesitantly try to un-straddle Matt’s face. A whimper leaving your mouth makes both boys smile proudly. They did good. 

“Here, lemme help, Doll.” Chris helps move you off of Matt. The second he lays you down on the bed, he’s looking at you with complete mischief, an impatient question lingering in his mind and falling from his tongue;

“Is it my turn yet?” 

[aerialmirrorss]

𝐜 𝐚 𝐬 𝐮 𝐚 𝐥 ⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆ rafe cameron

playing: 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥 by chappell roan 𝜗𝜚˚｡˚ ⋆

synopsis! a day at the beach with your friends turns into a nightmare when another explicit video of you and rafe is leaked—not just to you, but to everyone on the island, including your friends. as notifications spread and shocked whispers fill the air, you’re left frozen as their betrayed stares fall on you, while rafe scrambles to figure out who’s behind it before everything spirals even further.

paring: rafe cameron x pogue!reader

warnings: angst , potential stalker? , mature , explicit content , 18+ (minors dni!)

word count: 7.0k

notes: this is chapter three of my nobody gets me series. click the links below to read chapter one or two!♡

chapter one: 𝐧 𝐨 𝐛 𝐨 𝐝 𝐲 𝐠 𝐞 𝐭 𝐬 𝐦 𝐞 ⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆

chapter two: 𝐰 𝐢 𝐥 𝐝 𝐟 𝐥 𝐨 𝐰 𝐞 𝐫 ⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆

⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆

“you don’t have to do this, baby,” rafe murmurs, his voice soft but resolute as he shifts the truck into park in front of the chateau. his hand remained tightly wrapped around the steering wheel, knuckles white with tension. his gaze flickers toward you, his concern barely hidden behind the sunglasses resting on the bridge of his nose. even with them on, you can feel the weight of his worry.

you offer him a small smile, your fingers grazing over his hand that rested on your thigh in soft, soothing patterns. “yeah, i do,” you reply gently, your tone leaving no room for argument.

rafe sighs, his head falling back onto the headrest in defeat. he’d spent the entire morning trying to convince you to stay at home, wrapped in blankets, resting in bed. but, as always, your stubbornness had won out, leaving him no choice but to relent. “fine,” he mutters, the frustration in his voice giving way to reluctant acceptance.

he turns his head to look at you, his jaw tightening slightly before he speaks again. “but if anything—anything—happens, promise me you’ll call me. the meeting won’t take long, and even if it does, i’ll dip the second my phone rings, okay?”

his eyes search yours, and even behind his calm demeanor, you can sense the unease brewing in him, his protective instincts battling with his need to trust your judgment.

instead of responding, you lean in, your movement slow and deliberate, and rafe’s lips part slightly, already leaning forward to meet you halfway. just as he thinks you’re about to kiss him, you swerve at the last second, pressing a playful kiss to his cheek instead.

his breath hitches, and you pull back with a teasing smile, watching as his jaw clenches slightly. “seriously?” he mutters, his voice low, though there’s a hint of amusement behind it.

you shrug, feigning innocence. “what? thought you said you were in a rush,” you tease, your smile widening as his hand instinctively reaches out to curl around your wrist, tugging you just slightly closer.

“you’re such a brat,” he murmurs, but there’s a softness in his tone that makes your stomach flutter.

he doesn’t let your teasing slide for long. his hand moves swiftly, gently gripping your chin between his fingers, tilting your face back toward him. before you can react, he leans in and pulls your bottom lip between his, his teeth grazing it lightly as he sucks just enough to leave your heart racing.

“you think you’re funny, huh?” he murmurs against your lips, his voice low and teasing, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver down your spine. his eyes flicker to yours, a smug grin tugging at the corners of his mouth as he watches your playful demeanor falter under his touch.

“comedian, really,” you retort, your tone playfully defiant but edged with resolve as you pull away, breaking the tension before it can swallow you whole. you know better than to linger—he has a way of blurring your thoughts, clouding your judgment, and pulling you into him without a second thought.

you lean back in your seat, putting a little distance between you, but the amused glint in his eyes tells you he’s not letting it go that easily. “you keep running, baby,” he says with a smirk, “we both know how that ends.”

you roll your eyes, shaking your head with a soft laugh, but your chest tightens at how easily he gets under your skin.

and he’s been under your skin for the last couple of days, making up for all the time you two weren’t together. it was as though once the dam broke, neither of you could hold back anymore. the night you stayed at tannyhill was your first, but it changed something.

rafe had spent hours watching you sleep peacefully beside him, the faint rise and fall of your chest grounding him in a way he didn’t expect. it was in those quiet moments, with the moonlight spilling through his window, that he realized just how much he wanted this—you. having you there, tangled in his sheets, felt too natural, too right, and the thought of waking up without you felt almost unbearable.

you, however, were still trying to wrap your head around the shift. as much as you wanted to stay guarded, rafe had a way of breaking down your walls, piece by piece, with every lingering look and whispered confession. and the longer you stayed in his orbit, the harder it was to imagine pulling away.

so here you were, parked outside of john b’s chateau, about to face the truth you’d been avoiding. it was time to find out just how hard it would be to untangle yourself from the mess you and rafe had created.

you needed to talk to sarah. if she wasn’t going to answer your calls or texts, then you’d just have to grow a pair and confront her in person. the thought made your stomach churn, but you couldn’t let it sit any longer. you couldn’t let the silence stretch on.

taking a deep breath, you glanced over at rafe, his usual confidence replaced with a quiet tension as he watched you. this wasn’t going to be easy—not for you, not for her, and especially not with him so deeply entangled in it all.

“okay, i’ll see you later,” you finally say, your voice steady despite the nerves swirling in your chest. you grip the door handle and step out before you can second-guess yourself, glancing back as rafe rolls down the window.

“do you want me to pick you up if you stay?” he calls after you, his tone casual but laced with subtle concern.

you shake your head, offering a faint smile. “no, i have to go home before my mom files a missing persons report,” you joke, trying to lighten the tension in the air.

rafe’s lips curve into a lazy smile, the kind that always makes your heart flutter no matter how hard you try to fight it. “okay, babe. call me later,” he says, his eyes lingering on you for a moment before he reverses down the hill, his truck disappearing as you make your way to the porch.

your stomach twists as you pause in front of the door, bracing yourself for what’s to come. there’s no turning back now.

you suck in a sharp breath, steadying yourself before opening the screen door and stepping inside. the familiar smell of the chateau hits you instantly, along with the sight of jj and pope lounging on the couch in their swim trunks, looking as if they hadn’t moved all day.

“well, look who the cat dragged in,” jj smirks, his signature grin spreading across his face as he stands up. before you can react, he scoops you up off the ground, spinning you around as you burst into a fit of laughter, caught completely off guard.

“where have you been?” pope asks, standing to give you a hug once jj finally sets you back on your feet. “sarah said your mom had you on house arrest after what happened on the beach.” his smile is warm, the same steady presence that always makes you feel welcome here.

you laugh lightly, brushing a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “something like that,” you reply, avoiding giving too much detail as your eyes quickly scan the room, searching for sarah.

“well, you’re just in time,” jj says with a shrug, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “the swell just hit the beach. obviously, you sensed it and rushed over here to spend it with us. so, go get dressed.”

you roll your eyes, laughing softly at his logic, but before you can respond, pope sighs dramatically from the couch. “we’ve been waiting for an hour for the girls to get ready,” he groans, throwing his head back like he’s truly suffering. “please don’t make us wait another.”

“i didn’t even say i was going surfing,” you tease, earning a pointed look from jj.

“don’t even try to get out of it,” jj retorts, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes. “you’re here, you’re surfing. that’s the deal.”

you laugh again, shaking your head at their antics, but you can’t deny the warmth spreading in your chest at how easily they include you, like no time has passed.

it made you feel good, a small wave of relief washing over you. if jj and pope weren’t mad at you, then that must mean sarah hadn’t told them about you and rafe. the thought of their disappointed faces, their trust crumbling, had been eating away at you. the relief was fleeting but welcome.

you slipped out of the living room, making your way to the bedroom where you, sarah, and kie usually got ready together. with a soft knock on the door, you waited until you heard a muffled “come in!” before pushing it open.

kie stood in front of the body-length mirror, tying the knot of her bikini top behind her neck. her eyes widened at your reflection in the glass, and before you could say anything, she spun around, rushing over to pull you into a tight hug.

“oh my god! hi, baby,” she exclaimed, her voice filled with relief. “i was worried sick!” her arms wrapped around you like she hadn’t seen you in years, and the familiar warmth of her embrace made your chest ache.

“i’m okay,” you murmured, managing a small smile as you hugged her back. but the tension lingering in your shoulders reminded you that this wasn’t over—not yet. you still had to face sarah.

“hey, where’s sarah?” you ask softly as you and kie pull back from the hug.

“oh, she’s in the bathroom but should be—” kie begins, only to be cut off by sarah’s voice as she steps into the room.

“god, remind me not to go in there after jj,” sarah whines, fanning her hand in front of her face with an exaggerated grimace, followed by a laugh. but as her eyes meet yours, the laughter dies on her lips. her smile fades, replaced by something unreadable.

the sudden shift in her expression makes your stomach drop, and for a moment, the room feels heavier, quieter. sarah’s gaze lingers on you, her lips pressing into a thin line before she looks away, pretending to adjust the straps of her bikini.

kie glances between the two of you, sensing the tension but staying quiet, unsure of what’s going on.

“kie, you mind if i talk to sarah really quick?” you ask, your tone soft, a small smile on your lips that you hope conveys the plea you don’t say out loud.

kie hesitates for a moment, her eyes flicking between you and sarah before nodding. she grabs her sandals from the floor and heads toward the door. “yeah, of course,” she says, though her voice is uncertain. with one last glance at the two of you, she steps out, closing the door quietly behind her.

you let out a small breath, sitting on the edge of the bed, your fingers nervously fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. your eyes flicker to sarah as she moves around the room, slipping on a loose button-up over her bikini, her movements slower than usual, almost deliberate.

the silence stretches, heavy and awkward, until you finally break it. “you didn’t tell them,” you say softly, your voice careful but steady as you watch her closely.

sarah pauses for a moment, her hands stilling on the buttons of her shirt before she finally meets your gaze. there’s a flicker of something in her eyes—hurt, frustration, maybe even guilt—but she doesn’t say anything right away.

“no,” she finally croaks, her voice strained as she fidgets with the buttons of her shirt. her eyes flick away from yours, landing somewhere on the floor. “i figured one betrayal was enough.”

her words hit you like a punch to the gut, the weight of them settling heavily in the space between you. her tone isn’t angry—it’s quiet, almost resigned—and somehow that makes it worse.

“sarah, i—” you start, but she cuts you off with a shake of her head, finally looking at you again. her expression is a mix of hurt and disappointment, and it makes your chest tighten painfully.

“why didn’t you just tell me?” she asks, her voice soft but raw. “was i really that awful to you that you thought you couldn’t?”

you stand abruptly, the sudden motion startling even yourself. shaking your head, you blurt out, “no, sarah. that’s not it at all. i—i don’t know what i was thinking.” your voice trembles slightly as you drop your head into one of your hands, trying desperately to gather your scattered thoughts.

“what happened between me and rafe was so unexpected, and…” you trail off, taking a deep breath before continuing. “i don’t know. i just thought that if i told you the moment it happened, you wouldn’t understand. and i know that you two aren’t exactly close, so i figured it would be a one-time thing and never again.”

you glance up at her, searching for some sign of understanding in her expression, but her face is unreadable. the silence stretches, making you fumble to explain further.

“but it wasn’t just one time,” you admit, your voice quieter now. “and then it just… spiraled. and i didn’t know how to tell you, sarah. i didn’t want to lose you.”

sarah crosses her arms, leaning back against the dresser, her gaze heavy on you. her lips press into a thin line as she exhales deeply, the weight of your words sinking in.

“so you lied to me,” she finally says, her tone flat but laced with hurt. “you let it spiral instead of just… telling me. you didn’t even give me a chance to try to understand.”

“i know,” you reply quickly, your voice barely above a whisper. “i know, and i’m so sorry, sarah. i should have told you from the start. i should have trusted you.”

“yeah, you should have,” she snaps, the sharpness in her tone catching you off guard. her eyes glisten slightly, though she blinks quickly to hide it. “because now, it feels like you didn’t trust me at all. like you didn’t even think about what keeping this from me would do.”

“i was scared,” you admit, your voice breaking as you step closer to her. “scared of how you’d react, scared of what it would mean for our friendship. and i know that doesn’t excuse it, but it’s the truth. i didn’t want to hurt you.”

sarah looks away, her jaw tightening as she processes your words. after a long pause, she speaks again, her voice quieter this time. “you didn’t just keep it from me—you let it keep happening. and now there’s this… this video, and you’re the one dealing with all of that, not him.”

“we’re going to fix it,” you say, almost defensively. “he’s doing everything he can to make sure i’m okay and that it goes away.”

“of course he is,” sarah replies, meeting your eyes again. “because he’s the one who pulled you into this mess in the first place. and i know rafe—he doesn’t stop until he gets what he wants. but, babe, are you sure this is what you want?”

her words hang heavy in the air, and you hesitate, unsure of how to answer. the question sinks into you like a weight.

is this what i want?

the truth swirls in your chest, complicated and tangled. you chew on your bottom lip, avoiding her gaze for a moment as you try to form the words.

“i don’t know,” you finally admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “i know how it looks, but it’s not as simple as that. rafe… he’s not just some mistake, sarah. it’s more than that. and yeah, it’s messy and complicated, but—” you pause, meeting her gaze. “but it feels real.”

sarah exhales sharply, her arms dropping to her sides as she shakes her head. “real?” she repeats, her tone laced with disbelief. “he’s my brother. the same brother who’s lied, manipulated, and hurt everyone in his path. do you really think he’s capable of something real?”

“he’s different with me,” you say quickly, surprising yourself with the conviction in your voice. “i know he’s done terrible things. i know he’s not perfect—far from it—but he’s trying, sarah. he’s trying for me. to be better.”

sarah looks at you for a long moment, her brows furrowed as she processes your words. “i want to believe you,” she finally says, her voice soft but tinged with sadness. “but i’ve known rafe my whole life. and every time i’ve thought he could change, he’s let me down.”

“i’m not asking you to trust him,” you say carefully, stepping closer. “but I’m asking you to trust me. i wouldn’t have kept this from you if i didn’t think he was worth it.”

her lips press into a thin line, and she looks away, her shoulders slumping slightly. “it’s not just about trust,” she says after a moment. “it’s about what happens next. if you’re really serious about him, you need to be ready for everything that comes with it. his world isn’t like ours. it’s darker, messier… more dangerous.”

“i know,” you whisper, your chest tightening. “but i’m willing to face it if it means being with him.”

sarah’s gaze snaps back to yours, her expression softening ever so slightly, though the edge in her voice remains. “then you better make damn sure he feels the same way,” she says, her words heavy with both warning and care. “because if he doesn’t, this will destroy you. and as one of your best friends, of course, i’ll be there for you.”

she pauses, her jaw tightening as her voice hardens. “but i will never forgive him. not for this. not for hurting you.”

her words hit you with a mix of relief and guilt. the thought of having her support, even after everything, is comforting, but the weight of her anger toward rafe lingers. you nod slowly, swallowing the lump in your throat as you murmur, “thank you, sarah.”

she exhales deeply, brushing a hand through her hair before crossing her arms again. “just… be careful, okay? i mean it. rafe’s not easy to love, and he’s even harder to trust.”

“i will,” you promise softly, your heart heavy with the weight of her words. sarah offers you a small, genuine smile before stepping forward and wrapping her arms around you, pulling you into a much-needed hug. you melt into her embrace, her warmth easing some of the tension that had been sitting in your chest.

“i love you,” she says quietly, her voice soft but full of emotion as she sighs into your hair. “you know that, right?”

you nod against her shoulder, your own voice barely above a whisper. “i love you too.”

she pulls back slightly, just enough to look at you, her hands still resting on your arms. “and let’s not tell everyone else just yet,” she says, her tone more serious now. “or at least not jj, pope, or john b. i just know they won’t be as understanding as me.”

a small laugh escapes you despite yourself, the thought of the boys’ reactions flashing in your mind. “yeah,” you agree softly, nodding. “they definitely won’t take it well.”

“good,” sarah mumbles, stepping back and straightening her shirt. “we’ll figure this out, okay? but for now, just… keep it between us. and rafe, i guess.” she rolls her eyes lightly, though there’s still a flicker of frustration when she says his name.

“i still can’t believe it. my brother? and here i thought you were the one with standards,” sarah teases, shuddering playfully as she shoots you a mock-disgusted look.

you laugh, reaching over to pinch her side lightly. “what can i say? john b took you first,” you retort with a smirk, your voice laced with playful flirtation.

sarah throws her head back, laughing loudly before meeting your gaze with a mischievous glint in her eye. “don’t threaten me with a good time, babe,” she quips, giving you a wink.

before you can reply, she waves toward the room. “now hurry up and get dressed. we’re going surfing, and jj and pope are gonna hang us if we take a second longer.”

“yeah, yeah,” you mumble with a grin, making your way toward your drawer to find your suit as sarah heads toward the door. you can’t help but feel a little lighter, her teasing and laughter easing some of the weight that had been pressing down on you.

⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆

rafe sat at a dining table of the country club, his fingers drumming impatiently against the polished wood as he glanced at his phone for the fifth time in the last two minutes. he opened your chat again, hoping to see the familiar bubbles of you typing a message. but when nothing appeared, he sighed heavily and locked his phone, tossing it onto the table before leaning back in his chair. his leg bounced beneath the table, a restless habit that betrayed his frustration.

this wasn’t just a casual meeting—it was an impromptu rendezvous with the private investigator who had been working with the cameron family for years. while this meeting wasn’t technically tied to cameron development, it was just as important to rafe.

his jaw clenched as he scanned the room, watching the other patrons chat and laugh over their meals, their world far removed from the storm brewing inside him. rafe wasn’t good at waiting, especially not when it came to you. his fingers twitched, tempted to call or text again, but he knew better.

instead, rafe straightened in his chair as the investigator approached, his expression unreadable but his frustration evident. as the man slid into the seat across from him, rafe leaned forward, his tone low and firm. “better have something for me for making me wait this long.”

the investigator—robert, a grizzled man—arched a brow, unimpressed. “don’t get snappy with me, kid,” he retorted coolly, leaning back in his chair. “i’m helping you out, remember?”

rafe’s jaw clenched, his patience quickly withering. he hated the way robert always talked to him like he was still a teenager under his father’s shadow. “okay, well, my girl is waiting on me,” rafe shot back, his words deliberate, “so if you please—” he motioned to the chair with an edge of attitude, his frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

robert let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “always in such a damn rush,” he muttered, reaching into his bag to pull out a manila folder. he slid it across the table to rafe, who snatched it up quickly, flipping it open with impatience.

inside, rafe’s expression darkened immediately. the folder was filled with pictures—pictures of you. shots of you alone, some of you and rafe together, and even photos of you with your friends at the chateau. but what made his stomach churn was the last set—pictures of you in your room, unaware, the camera angle invasive and clearly taken without your knowledge.

“what the fuck is this?” rafe growled, his voice low and dangerous as his jaw tightened. his fingers clenched the folder so hard it crinkled the edges. he glared at robert, his fury barely restrained.

“exactly what you asked for,” robert replied evenly, not flinching under rafe’s heated gaze. “surveillance of the girl and anything suspicious surrounding her. looks like someone’s been keeping a close eye on her, and not just me.”

“you mean to tell me someone’s been stalking her?” rafe asked, his voice rising slightly as his fury built. the mere thought of someone invading your privacy this way made his blood boil.

“that’s what it looks like,” robert said grimly. “the camera angles, the locations… this isn’t random, son. whoever’s doing this? they’ve been watching her for a while.”

“how the fuck did you get these?” rafe demanded, his voice sharp, barely restrained as his eyes darted over each picture again. his chest heaved with barely contained fury, his heart pounding against his ribcage as the anger coursed through him. each image was a reminder of how close someone had gotten to you without his knowledge—without his ability to stop it.

“the phone number traced to an IP address,” robert explained, his tone calm but heavy. he leaned back in his chair, rolling up the sleeves of his button-up like he was bracing for a longer conversation. “we couldn’t pull a name or anything solid. the trail leads to a burner iCloud account. whoever set this up knew what they were doing.”

“so that’s it?” rafe snapped, slamming the folder shut. “you’ve got nothing useful? just these fucking pictures?”

robert held up a hand to calm him. “relax, kid. this isn’t the end of the road. the burner iCloud account gives us something. whoever’s behind this has been sloppy enough to leave a trail. it’ll take time, but i’ll get you a name. trust me.”

“time?” rafe scoffed, his jaw clenching as he ran a hand through his hair. “i don’t have fucking time. whoever this is, they’re already too close. they’re watching her.” his voice cracked slightly, the frustration and fear breaking through his usual controlled demeanor.

“i get it,” robert said evenly, his eyes meeting rafe’s. “but rushing won’t solve this. you want answers? you need to let me do my job.”

rafe inhaled deeply, trying to calm the storm raging inside him, but his hands still trembled as they gripped the edge of the table. his knuckles were white, his jaw set tight. “you better, rob,” he muttered through gritted teeth, his voice low and dangerous. “because if anything happens to her—i swear to god—”

“hey,” robert interjected firmly, leaning forward and holding up a hand to steady the situation. “nothing’s gonna happen, alright? you just need to pull it together. the last thing you want is for her to notice you acting weird.”

rafe’s glare didn’t soften, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios, but he listened.

“if you start acting like something’s wrong,” robert continued, his voice steady but serious, “she’s gonna suspect it. and the last thing you want to do is sit her down and tell her someone’s been stalking her. that’ll make her panic, and trust me, you don’t want that.”

rafe’s jaw ticked, his frustration evident as he forced himself to sit back in the chair. “so what— what am i supposed to do?” he asked, his voice clipped. “just sit here while some perv watches her?”

“no,” robert said calmly, folding his arms. “you let me do my job, and you stay close. keep her safe without tipping her off. if the person sees you hovering, they might back off, but you can’t blow this out of proportion—not yet.”

rafe exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. “fine,” he muttered. “but you better move fast, rob. i don’t care what it takes—just find them.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆

“yeah, kie!” you shout from the sand, your voice carrying over the sound of the crashing waves as you watch her ride the wave with practiced ease. a wide smile spreads across your face, the warmth of the moment settling in your chest.

you’d forgotten how much you missed this—being with your friends, laughing, cheering each other on like nothing else mattered. it felt like stepping into a time capsule, bringing back all the memories of when you were inseparable, when life felt simpler.

the sun beamed down on the beach, the smell of saltwater and sunscreen filling the air as jj and pope hollered from the water, their playful jeers aimed at kie. you laughed, shaking your head as you realized how much you needed this. for the first time in a while, you felt like yourself again.

you had been so caught up in the joy of being with your friends that you hadn’t checked your phone in hours. it sat forgotten in your beach bag, buzzing occasionally with a growing list of messages and missed calls from rafe.

meanwhile, rafe was losing it. the anxiety gnawing at him since his meeting with robert had only worsened when he arrived at the chateau and found it empty. he’d banged on the door until his knuckles ached, calling out your name, only to be met with silence.

“fuck!” rafe shouted, his frustration echoing in the stillness as he slammed his fist against the door one last time. his chest heaved, his thoughts racing.

his mind flashed to the pictures, the ones that had been taken of you without your knowledge, and his stomach twisted. the idea that you were out there, unaware of the danger, made his blood run cold. he pulled his phone from his pocket and called you again, pacing back and forth as the line rang endlessly.

“come on, baby,” he muttered under his breath, his free hand running through his hair as panic began to settle in. “pick up.”

you laid back against your towel, the warmth of the sun seeping into your skin as you basked in the peacefulness after catching one last wave. the sound of the waves crashing and your friends laughing in the distance lulled you into a calm you hadn’t felt in weeks.

but then, your phone buzzed insistently from your beach bag, pulling you out of your moment of tranquility. with a groan, you reached over, rummaging through the bag until your fingers closed around the device. flipping it over, your relaxed state evaporated in an instant.

the screen lit up with a long list of missed calls and messages from rafe. your heart began to hammer in your chest, an uneasy feeling creeping in. rafe wasn’t the type to blow up your phone unless something was seriously wrong.

you quickly unlocked it, skimming through the texts, your stomach twisting as you read them:

r <3: call me. now.

r <3: where the fuck are you?

r <3: baby please answer your phone

your pulse quickened, and your fingers hovered over the call button. whatever had him in such a state, it wasn’t good.

within the first ring, rafe answered, his voice sharp and laced with urgency. the roar of his truck speeding down the road echoed in the background, adding to the tension in his tone.

“thank god,” he breathed, though his relief was short-lived. “where are you? i’ve been trying to reach you for over two hours.”

the sheer panic in his voice made your stomach drop. “i’m at the beach,” you replied cautiously, sitting up on your towel, suddenly hyper-aware of the shift in his demeanor. “what’s going on, rafe?”

there was a pause, the sound of his engine filling the silence before he spoke again, his voice firm. “stay there. don’t move. i’m coming to get you.”

“rafe—” you began, but his sharp voice cut through before you could finish.

“stay. there,” he snapped, his tone leaving no room for argument.

and then the line went dead.

you stared at your phone in confusion, your brows furrowing as the screen returned to your call log. your heart pounded in your chest, the unease from his urgency settling deep in your stomach.

“what the hell?” you muttered to yourself, lowering the phone and glancing around the beach, your mind racing with what could’ve had him in such a state. you debated calling him back, but something about the finality in his tone made you hesitate.

instead, you sat up on your knees, quickly starting to pack everything you brought with you into your bag. the unease gnawing at your chest made it impossible to sit still.

“hey, hey, hey. where you going? we’re not done here yet,” jj called out, his longboard tucked under his arm as he strolled over to where you, sarah, and kie had set up.

sarah and kie had been too engrossed in their conversation to notice your phone call, but jj’s comment caught their attention, and now all eyes were on you.

“i know, m’sorry,” you said, trying to keep your tone casual as you stuffed your towel into your bag. “my… mom just called and said she needed me home, so—” your words trailed off as you caught sarah’s eyes, giving her a pointed look that you hoped she’d understand.

jj sighed, muttering a curse under his breath as he watched you finish packing. “well, you should tell your mom to chill,” he grumbled. “i mean, you’re with us. what’s there to worry about?”

“yeah,” sarah chimed in, rolling her eyes as she lounged back on her towel. “you’re with us. it’s not like anything’s gonna happen.” there was a hint of annoyance in her tone, though you couldn’t tell if it was directed at you or rafe, whom she clearly suspected was behind this.

you forced a small laugh, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “yeah, i’ll let her know. but, you know how she gets,” you replied, trying to sound light, even as your stomach churned with nerves. you glanced at sarah again, silently pleading for her understanding. she gave you a slight nod, though her expression remained unreadable.

you said your goodbyes and made your way to the entrance of the beach, your stomach twisting with nerves as you saw rafe’s truck speeding toward you. the tires kicked up sand as he came to a hard stop, immediately cutting the engine and hopping out.

the sound of the door slamming echoed in the quiet, and he stalked toward you with quick, purposeful strides. his intense gaze was locked on you, his jaw tight and his chest heaving slightly.

when he reached you, he stopped abruptly, his hands reaching out to gently grip your arms. his touch was firm but careful, as if checking you over to make sure you were unharmed. his eyes scanned your face, then your body, before he finally exhaled a soft sigh, his shoulders relaxing just slightly.

“you’re okay,” he murmured, more to himself than to you, his grip on your arms tightening briefly before he released you, though his hands lingered. “you’re okay.”

“rafe? what’s going—” you began, but he cut you off before you could finish.

“you’re gonna stay with me a couple more days, okay?” he said quickly, his words spilling out like a rushing stream. “i already asked the staff to pick up some new clothes for you and to clear out some drawers so you can keep your stuff there. if you need anything else, just let me know and I’ll—”

“rafe!” you interrupted, your voice sharper than intended, overwhelmed by his sudden word vomit and the fact that he was dodging every question. you reached up, your hand cupping his face to ground him, to stop him in his tracks. he closed his eyes briefly, leaning into your touch as he exhaled heavily.

“rafe, tell me what’s happening,” you said softly, though your voice carried a tremor of worry. “you’re scaring me.”

his eyes opened, meeting yours, and for a brief moment, you saw something raw, almost vulnerable. but instead of giving you the answers you desperately wanted, he pulled you closer, resting his forehead against yours.

“just… let me handle it, okay?” he murmured, his tone low, almost pleading. “can you do that for me?”

you frowned, frustration bubbling up as his vague responses only made your anxiety worse. “rafe, i can’t keep letting you brush me off like this,” you said firmly, your voice trembling with both worry and anger. “you need to tell me what’s going on. please.”

rafe’s jaw ticks, the muscle tightening as he struggles to keep his anger in check. his patience, already worn thin, frays further when he sees the questioning look in your eyes. he steps back with an annoyed groan, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

“can you just accept the fact that i’m trying to make sure you’re good?” he snaps, his tone sharper than you’ve heard in what feels like forever. “let me handle it, and i’ll tell you once it’s done.”

his words cut, and your brows furrow as a wave of hurt flashes across your face. his sudden tone—so different from the soft, protective rafe you’ve grown used to—catches you off guard.

“why are you talking to me like this?” you ask, your voice quiet but steady, the ache in your chest impossible to ignore. “i just want to know what’s going on. you’re shutting me out, rafe, and it’s not fair.”

he exhales heavily, his expression softening slightly as guilt creeps into his features, but the tension in his shoulders remains. “i’m not shutting you out,” he insists, though his tone is strained.

“i can’t just sit here and pretend everything’s fine when you’re clearly losing it.”

his eyes flicker to yours, the internal battle raging behind them clear as day, but he stays silent, his lips pressed into a thin, stubborn line. the tension stretches between you like a taut wire, and when he doesn’t speak, you let out a scoff, turning on your heel to walk away.

“where the fuck are you going?” he calls out, his voice sharp as he quickly follows after you. when you don’t answer, his frustration bubbles over, his tone rising. “get in the truck, y/n. now.”

you stop in your tracks, spinning to face him, your own frustration boiling to the surface. “are you serious right now?” you snap, glaring at him. “you think you can just bark orders at me and that I’ll do whatever you say?”

rafe runs a hand through his hair, his jaw clenching as he exhales sharply. “i’m trying to protect you,” he bites back, his voice lowering but no less intense. “just… get in the truck, okay? we can talk about this later. but right now, you need to trust me.”

you hesitate, his words lingering in the air, but the anger simmering between you doesn’t fade. “trust goes both ways, rafe,” you say firmly, turning back toward the beach path, your heart hammering in your chest.

“oh my fucking god,” you hear rafe murmur under his breath as he follows you, his steps heavy with frustration. “can you stop walking and get in the truck, or i’ll carry you,” he threatens, his voice low but serious.

you ignore him, your feet quickening as you catch sight of your friends lounging in the sand ahead. but just as you’re about to speed up, your phone vibrates in your hand, stopping you in your tracks. instinctively, you glance down at the screen.

unknown: one video attachment.

your breath catches, your blood running cold as your fingers hover over the notification. with shaky hands, you open the message and tap on the video. within seconds, your stomach drops. the phone slips from your hands and falls to the ground, the sound of the video still playing faintly.

“what the fuck?” you whisper, your voice barely audible as your mind struggles to process what you just saw.

it wasn’t just a kiss this time. it wasn’t even anything you could brush off as innocent. it was a video of you and rafe on the balcony at tannyhill—the night you stayed over. every detail was captured, from the intimate way you straddled him to the unmistakable sounds of your shared moans as he flipped you around.

“y/n?” rafe’s voice cuts through your spiraling thoughts as he steps closer, noticing your pale expression. his brows knit together as his eyes dart to the phone lying on the ground. “what’s wrong?”

when rafe picks up your phone and sees the screen, his face hardens, his jaw tightening as his grip on the device turns white-knuckled. his lips part, but before he can say anything, his own phone dings with a text message.

then, all at once, the unmistakable sound of notifications starts echoing across the beach. one after the other, phones light up in people’s hands. heads turn down, curious gazes scanning their screens, and then the gasps begin.

a murmur spreads like wildfire, a wave of collective shock and whispered words. your breath catches as you see the smiles on your friends’ faces fade, their eyes wide as they all receive the same notification.

you don’t need to guess. you already know what they’re watching.

tears well in your eyes, blurring your vision as your worst fear unfolds right in front of you. your friends’ gazes lift, all of them turning to look at you with expressions of disbelief, confusion, and—worst of all—betrayal.

your heart drops into your stomach, the weight of their stares suffocating. it feels like the entire world has stopped, leaving you frozen in place as the sound of the waves fades into a haunting silence.

© aerialmirrorss

taglist!: @whatrulookingat11 @ipromiseidk @rrosiitas @percysley @pinklleemonade @tincanhat @chenslucy @furiouscopshepherduniversity @vanessa-rafesgirl @amel1ee @lxvrgirl @munsoncultedits @honeyluvsatj @esquivelbianca @k3nz13a @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @fallingwallsh @landososcar @bambiangels @witchmoon10 @harrys-housewife @littlelamy @fruitcakerafe @stylesbarnesmaybankstarkeymunson @ariana2saucyy @valsmotive @folksmione @prettybabyyyy @wolfstarsimpxx @devinefem @mastylespost @drewwhore @promiscuousg1rl @uhhsoph @aesthetic-lyss @lossfairy @belledawnidk @psychiceaglepeach @yourcrackleflame @ayy1234567

[simpforboys]

surprise! (2)

drew starkey x fem!singer!reader

summary: reader and drew shoot the ‘perfume’ music video!

warnings: fluff, swearing, sexual themes but no real smut, kisses

‘perfume’ by del water gap

part one

It was bright and early on a Wednesday in December.

You had been up since six am to be on set, get costumes all organized, makeup done, hair done, and just make sure your vision was really coming along how you wanted it to.

After all, 'Perfume' was a big deal to you, now even more so due to the fact that your dream man was going to be your on-screen lover.

When Drew finally showed up at eight am, almost exactly on the dot, he was a little disorganized due to not getting as much sleep as he should have the night before.

You were talking to the director, clearly deep in the discussion as you explained your vision as best as your chaotic brain could.

"Drew is here," your manager came walking over.

Fuck.

You looked over, seeing Drew standing awkwardly by the trailers as he looked around at the film location.

It was pronounced you had chosen to do more of a countryside feel, the old farmhouse that had people constantly going in and out of it in order to set up for later scenes.

The location was beautiful, though. Grass, sand, hills, and for the actual land, it was quiet.

"Hey, good morning."

You walked over to Drew, trying to hide your pounding heart and the bags under your eyes (because, obviously, you hadn't been able to sleep the night before).

"Good morning." Drew looked at you, a small smile on his tired face.

"Are you hungry? We have breakfast and coffee over here," you guided Drew over to the food station, hands shaking with nervousness.

"Coffee sounds good, yeah." Drew murmurs, trying not to stare at you in your outfit.

You had chosen to wear blue overalls with a black long-sleeve shirt, and brown cowboy boots to fit into the countryside vibe you were going for.

"Sorry, I barely slept last night."

Drew shook his head, a small smile on his face.

"No, you're good. You just... look good."

Your eyes widened slightly at his compliment, your face feeling hot. God, why did he have to be fucking sweet?

"I don't normally wear this shit," you tried to deflect off of it and make a joke.

Drew smiled, shaking his head softly as he took a sip of the hot coffee.

"I'm assuming we're going to be cowboys?" He teased.

You shrug, a small smirk curling onto your lips.

"I couldn't pass up the opportunity to give everyone cowboy Drew." You joked back, instantly feeling a little embarrassed.

Being hyperaware and anxious was absolutely not helping anything about any and all interactions with him.

"Okay, so you're welcome to help yourself to anything. I have to film some solo shots, but probably in around thirty to forty-five minutes, the costume lady will come to get you."

You spoke, avoiding looking at him.

Drew hummed, watching you get all nervous and embarrassed. As much as he wanted to reassure you that you were fine, he couldn't deny how amusing it was to see you get all shy around him.

"Thank you," he murmured.

While you went off to shoot some solo stuff, Drew was in the trailer as the ladies gave him some makeup and fixed his short hair.

You wanted him to wear blue jeans, cowboy boots, and a plain white shirt that had some dirt on it to make the appearance that he had been working outside.

By the time Drew was dismissed, you were finishing up filming. Staring at the footage that was just shot, your song playing in the background as you stood around the property or lip sung.

Glancing over and seeing Drew in the damn outfit you picked made your heart physically flutter.

He looked good.

You would definitely be feeding his fans (and yourself) content.

“How do I look?” He walked over to you, a small smirk on his face.

“Good… yeah, uh, good. Exactly how I envisioned.”

Why the fuck were you so nervous? Why the fuck was he so handsome and intimidating?

He hummed, wanting to tease you a little more before the director cut in.

“Okay, so you two are going to be sitting in the truck. Drew will be driving with Y/n in the passenger seat. When I say ‘go’, I want Drew to slowly reach over and hold her hand. Look at each other with soft, warm, loving eyes.”

The director says. The two of you nod in agreement, getting into the truck.

Drew placed his hands on the wheel as you looked out the window. The filming location was genuinely so pretty, and you were very pleased with your decision.

The camera man slid into the backseat with the big camera, making sure the angles would all be right.

“Okay, three, two, one… action!”

You continue to stare out the window as Drew drives the truck along the grassy pathway, ‘Perfume’ playing in the background.

And I'm picturing you right now, I'm thinking of you right now

You tried not to have your breath hitch when you felt his large, warm hand grab yours and intertwine your fingers.

Glancing over at him, your eyes met his gorgeous blue ones, a genuine look of affection filling your gaze, mirroring his.

But his was probably fake, he’s an actor after all.

Drew gave you a soft smile, which caused a small grin to curl onto your lips.

“And cut!”

‘Perfume’ cut off, but you were hyperaware of the way Drew didn’t immediately pull his hand from your’s.

In fact, you were the first to pull away, nearly shitting your pants at the way your hand tingled.

Drew cut the engine of the car, the director coming to the passenger side window as he leaned against it.

“That was really good, you could feel the tension in the gaze. For the next shot, we want Drew to get out of the car with Y/n to follow. Outside the car, start walking up towards the house, when Drew is going to place his hand on your waist and pull you towards him. Share a passionate kiss, and press her against the door.” The director said.

Oh. Oh. Oh.

“Sounds good,” Drew hums, glancing briefly at you.

You swallowed, trying to ignore the way your face felt warm as you nodded in agreement.

‘Perfume’ started playing in the background again, the next scene about to start.

“Okay… three, two, one… action!”

'Cause I wanna do all of the things, baby, I said I wanna do with you… 'Less this is a lie and I don't know myself like I thought…

Wait, this is a mess, I could be wrong, I could be so damn mistaken

Both you and Drew got out of the car, a sheepish smile on both of your faces as you start walking towards the house.

Your heart stammered in your chest when you both stepped onto the porch and his large hand snaked around your waist, tugging you firmly into him.

He dipped his head down, capturing your lips.

You were kissing Drew fucking Starkey.

Immediately, you both melted into the kiss. Your hands were on his jaw and the back of his neck, his other hand going to rest on your lower back, just on top of your ass.

Drew almost forgot where he was for a minute as he slipped his tongue into your warm mouth.

He pressed your back against the front door of the house, you pulling him down so his body is flush against yours.

Fuck.

You were both thinking it.

“And, cut!” The director called.

You were both so raptured into the kiss neither of you heard it immediately.

“Cut!” The director called again, trying to hide his snicker.

Drew slowly pulled his lips away from you, his hands sliding off your body, making you feel cold.

“Sorry,” he murmured. His blue eyes bore into yours.

“You two take five, we needa get the bedroom all ready for the next shot,” the director said.

You moved away from the door to sit on the front patio furniture of the house. Your lips were tingling, mind racing at the thought that you just made out with your celebrity crush.

Drew looked sheepish and a little embarrassed that he let himself get so into a kiss. It was definitely a first for him.

“You want a water or anything?” Drew asked you.

“Uh, yeah, sure. Thank you,” you swallowed. You were still feeling a little breathless from what just happened.

By the time Drew came back with your water, the director had also returned.

Both you and Drew followed the man into the back bedroom of the old farmhouse. It was bare, with the basic furniture of a wardrobe, bed, and nightstands.

You wanted it to be basic, you wanted it to add the detail into the story you were trying to convey.

"So, we're going to set the camera up right at this angle. Drew push Y/n back onto the bed and climb on top of her, still kissing. Only break the kiss so you can both pull your shirts off. Then we're going to cut it into a birds-eye view. Sound good for now?" The director hums.

Oh. Drew was going to see you in your bra.

You might have forgotten about that when you came up with ideas for the music video.

Drew nods, his eyes flickering over to yours, meeting your gaze before you both quickly look away. Why was he so nervous?

He had seen boobs, he had seen women in bras. Maybe it was the fact that he was going to see yours was driving him a little crazy, making him forget all about his professional side for a moment.

You unbuttoned your overalls at the top so it would be easier to pull your shirt off for the scene.

"Three, two, one... action!"

But I'm picturing you right now, I'm thinking of you right now, I'm picturing you right now

With nothing on, with nothing on but my perfume

The familiar beat of your song and lyrics came on, but you paid absolutely no attention to it when Drew kissed you again.

He flopped you back onto the bed, your body bouncing slightly. But neither of you dared to disconnect your lips, his tongue slipping in your mouth yet again.

A very small, faint whine left your throat when he pulled away to tug his shirt off. No fucking way you just did that.

Unbeknownst to you, the small whine made Drew's entire body go rigid. His mind was starting to drift into what you would sound like actually in bed.

You arched your back up, trying to remember that there was a giant camera on you both. You pulled your black long-sleeve up and over your head, eyes staring up at Drew.

The way his pupils dilated more, that gorgeous blue swirling into a deep sea color. Fuck. You were both ruined.

He immediately connected your lips back to his, both your minds a state of pure need. But before anything else could happen--

"Cut!"

The word "cut" was starting to become your least favorite thing in the entire world. Drew pulled back, still hovering over you.

You finally let your eyes drift down to his bare torso, seeing those abs for the first time in person. But he wasn't the only one.

He tried so hard not to look, to be a gentleman, to be professional. But he felt his gaze slip down to you lying there in your bra, his mouth growing a little wetter.

"Y/n, spread your legs and let Drew lay in between them. When we say action, Drew start thrusting your hips as if you two are having sex. We'll keep the birds-eye view so it gives off the appearance that you two actually are."

As the director gives his next instructions, a set designer fixes the sheet to rest around Drew's hips, covering up the fact that you are both still wearing pants.

All you and Drew could do was nod. It wasn't really safe to speak, not when the sexual tension and chemistry between you two was so high.

Drew had filmed sex scenes before, it was a part of his job. But fuck. You were driving him insane, and you were barely even speaking.

You spread your legs as Drew shifted closer to you, trying to look anywhere but at your chest and face.

"Three, two, one... action!"

Call me in the morning, beg me in the night, I'll be over safely if you need it anytime

I'm picturing you right now, with nothing on, with nothing on but my perfume

He had begun to softly move his hips, his mouth instinctively attaching to your jaw, kissing down to your neck. Your hands dug into his broad shoulders and back, trying desperately not to let out a real moan.

Your eyes were fluttered shut, legs tightening a little more around him. There was no real pleasure being shared, but both your bodies were on autopilot, as if you were actually having sex.

It was the hottest either of you had ever felt.

The day continued on, with both you and Drew filming more romantic scenes. It was very surreal that this was all pretend because, at some points, it felt real.

The last scene was finally shot and everyone cheered with applause, happy the hard work and long day is over.

You were changing out of your film clothes and back into the sweatpants and hoodie you wore to set at six am this morning.

Drew had also changed, putting on his jeans and jacket.

You were going around and sincerely thanking every single person for their contribution and hard work, the last person finally being Drew.

Your eyes locked onto each other, a small smile creeping onto both your faces.

"Thank you so much, Drew, seriously. I couldn't have done this without you," you told him.

Drew shrugged nonchalantly, but he seemed a little sheepish at your genuine words.

"No, thank you. I had a lot of fun today, you were a lot of fun to film with." Drew replies, a warm look in his gaze.

He pulled you into another hug, your face pressed into him, arms wrapped tightly around each other.

"I hope this isn't the last time you see me," Drew murmurs in your ear.

Goosebumps erupted all over your skin, the moment reeling in your mind as you thought about when he hugged you and murmured how much he loved your song on Jimmy Fallon.

"It won't be, I promise."

You finally pulled away, a little reluctantly. You didn't wanna scare him off by holding him for too long.

"I'll eventually send you photo stills and snippets to post for promotion, but I don't want you to feel like you have to post anything or a shit-ton of stuff. I know you're busy," you tell him.

Drew shook his head. "Nah, I'll post them. Promise."

You nodded softly, a little grin on your face.

"Alright, Y/n. I'll see you around," Drew hums.

You watched as he walked away, a warm feeling in your chest.

You had finally returned home after the long day. After showering, changing into pajamas, and feeding yourself, you slide into your warm bed.

Grabbing your phone from the nightstand, your heart jumped when you read one Instagram notification in particular.

@/drewstarkey has messaged you

You quickly opened the notification, a smile on your face.

Drew Starkey: Just wanted to thank you again for the opportunity today. Had more fun than I should have

Your User: Ofc!! Maybe when the music video drops we can celebrate together :3

Fuck. Your thumb pressed send before you could double-think that message.

Drew Starkey: I like the sound of that

Oh.

tags!!

@slut4you @sweetlike-sugarplum @snowtargaryen @fastlovela @christinechickiee @ahgrace6 @evermorx89 @loren8818181 @eddiemuns0nl0ver @sophiesmovingcastle5 @chimchimjiminie16 @amel1ee @reader1402 @tqd4455 @rxeae @caraxes-syrax @shrimpybbq @drewstarkeysbabe @rafeswhoooreee @meropeeonmee @rafeluvrr @marvelahsobx @raeven-marie43 @fallout-girl219 @brendazzlingg @10ava01 @secretsideofbree @drewstarrrkey @p0gue420 @gibson-g1rl @kiiyomei @spiderstyles04 @sexualparkour @vinaluvsu @domainexpandme @mariadu2 @toterry @taliawz @always-reading @angvl3tears @iloveoldermenn @aesthetic-lyss @lover-girl-estxx @cadhlabear