{Please play "Undo" by your favorite band The 1975, "Crave You" (Adventure Club Dubstep Remix) by Flight Facilities, and "F... You All the Time" by Jeremih ft/ Natasha Mosely.}
{I had uploaded this last night and Wattpad was like "Mae, this is p-o-r-n, " so I had to edit some shit out. Gosh. Anyways, enjoy. I love all of you so much, thanks for the comments and votes!!!}
Matty's POV.
George and I had given up our attempts to get Lola to ride the skateboard, and we laid next to each other in his bed. Adam had abandoned us, likely to find the tall blonde he was obsessing over. I was making beats into my now empty bottle of wine, with George accompanying the track with smacks on his knees and head-bobbing.
We paused our shift at the beat factory and rolled over onto my stomach, stroking Lola's black fur and nuzzling her cheek. Dogs all the way.
"Georgie, you're wasted," I stated the obvious.
George ignored her me and began oohing over Lola, kissing her black nose and baby-talking to her. I had lost track of Claire, and was counting on George to pass out so I could find her.
I needed her.
"Daddy loves you, Lola. You're my number one," George cooed to his dog as she licked his face.
George had fallen in love with Lola, head over heels, when he bought her at the pet store a few months ago. She was still technically a puppy, but had already grown so much. George's eyes closed and he laid on his back, giggling as Lola cralwed under the fabric of his hoody and nestled herself into him, her face peeking out of his collar.
"Aw, do you love your Daddy Lola? How 'bout your Uncle Matty, mmm?" I said, rolling over once more and shaking my curls in her face.
George was getting sleepy, letting out a stretch of his long limbs, and a deep yawn.
"What are you guys doing?" I heard the velvet voice say after the door opened.
Claire.
She looked gorgeous tonight, as she always does. The way the fabric of her dress clung to her pained me. The way her cheeks flushed from alcohol reminded me of the way they flushed when I made her orgasm.
I was going to do it again tonight.
There would be no other outcome.
"Look, Matty, it's our friend," George slurred.
Claire smiled and stepped toward us, giggling at Lola. Also, at Drunk George.
"Hi, Claire," I winked at her.
She blushed and turned her attention to George, crawling on the bed and joining us in our Lola worshipping.
"Get your shoes off my bed, you animal," George complained to Claire.
Claire shushed him and motioned to Lola, who was now sleeping beneath George's hoody.
I was propped up on my elbow, next to George, Claire in the middle of us on her knees as she was trying to maneuver Lola out of George's hoody.
"Be careful," George instructed.
"Shut up, Bedford, I know what I'm doing," Claire sassed him.
Amused, I watched her every move as she took Lola from her Dad, cradled her into her arms, and scurried over to Lola's doggy bed where she placed her carefully.
"And baby is down," Claire said, her tone a whisper.
"Come here," I called for her.
Claire bit her bottom lip, but did what I asked. She crawled onto the bed once more, her hair cascading down the right side of her face. She stopped at my knees and kicked her feet out to where her shoes were at mine and George's shoulders.
George huffed. "No shoes!"
Claire giggled at him once more, and he grabbed her legs and removed the shoes off her feet. His hands were taking advantage, slowly moving up her calf, resting on her outer thighs even after he had thrown the shoes onto his floor.
"My babies!" Claire said, but she didn't move his hands away.
I didn't like this. I didn't like how George was making her giggle. I didn't like how his hand was now at her knee, and she wasn't moving it away.
"Those were nice shoes," George shrugged. "Sorry."
His hand was still on her knee. She was still smiling at him, her legs now draped over his abdomen.
I knew I couldn't say it out loud.
But I really didn't like this.
"Yeah, I should fuck you up for that. Or at least show people the pictures of your emo bangs when you were in middle school," Claire teased him.
George narrowed his glassy eyes. "Claire Madeline McDaniel, I swear on all that's holy..."
Mmm. Madeline. That was cute.
Claire rolled her eyes and nudged him in the ribs with her foot. "Fuck off, you won't do shit."
Before I could drag her away from George and forget about this horrible scene of them acting like seventh graders flirting, George had pulled Claire onto his lap, his hands squeezing her hips.
"I won't?" George said, his deep voice permeating the air in the room.
Claire stuck her tongue out at him and tried to wiggle her curvy hips from his lap, but he held onto her, a cheeky stupid grin plastered on his face, and began frantically tickling her.
She giggled. She laughed. She downright snorted.
George's hands were way too close to her breasts.
I drummed my fingers on my knee and watched the whole scenario in some masochistic way.
I was always well-aware that I'm the bad guy. I am tormented by the things that I want, the things I need. I am selfish and careless.
But I never wanted to be those things with her. She deserved more.
Pehaps George was what's best for her. His parents would be over the moon to see the two of them fall in love, get married, and have giant babies that looked just like George. He would be good to her, he'd never disappoint her.
I would disappoint her, and do it often. I would want her too much. I would make her want me too much. I would keep her up all night. I would bruise her lips. I would make her sore. I would make her into someone else.
"Matty!" she squealed amongst George's tickles.
Danes was so happy for his fucking self, that wide grin still plastered on his face as he was basically feeling her up and grabbing her ass.
"Matty! Help me!" Claire cried once more.
I caved in, and took her from the dreaded space of George's lap, cradling her in my arms bridal style.
Her face was so red, and she was so pretty as she looked into my eyes.
"My hero," she said, pecking me on the cheek.
Her lips were so full, so soft; her hair the same. The fabric of her dress had shifted around her body amongst George's tickling, and she was practically spilling out of the bust of her dress. It didn't help that she was now panting, her breasts rising and falling in gasps as she rested her face in the crook of my neck.
"Are you alright, darling?" I asked her.
"Mmm-hmm," she answered me, her fingers tracing the tattoo on my chest I had gotten in memory of my grandmother.
"Just a little drunk," she explained further.
I brushed her hair out of her face so I could lose myself in her features once more. Her little button nose, her hazel eyes framed by lashes that brushed her cheek when she batted them at me.
"You're just a little drunk, I'm pretty drunk, George is absolutely pissed," I summarized the night.
Claire giggled, her breath in my ear sending a tingling sensation that shot up my cock and into my soul.
I wonder if she knew the effect that she had on me. Those wide, innocent eyes of hers almost fooled me. She was toying with me, making me ache for her.
"George was pissed, now he's sleeping," she turned her eyes to George, who was indeed snoring now.
I exhaled, thanking a God I didn't believe in.
"Poor baby," she said.
"He'll be fine," I assured her.
Claire continued playing with my collar before wiggling her way onto her knees.
Just where I wanted her.
"Matty..." she said, her eyes scanning me with hesitation.
"Mmm?" I questioned, taking her hands into mine.
"I want to try something," she said.
=
Claire's POV.
"You've got to curl your lips around your teeth, love," Matty instructed me. "And move your tongue back a little."
My smile widened as I looked down at him, his head resting comfortably in my lap. I was seated at the top of the stairs, with my legs crossed. His hair was soft and lush as I weaved my figners through his curls, watching him smoke a cigarette that he was letting me share.
I followed his instructions, making another attempt to perfect smoke rings, groaning when I wasn't successful.
"I can't move my mouth the way you do, Matty," I said.
He shrugged, and once again demonstrated three perfect smoke rings from his equally perfect mouth.
"Not everyone can be so blessed," he said, winking at me and pursing his lips.
It was a full moon tonight, the air chilly enough to need a jacket but warm enough to enjoy. Maybe it was just the alcohol and weed, but the moonlight in Matty's eyes was fascinating me. The way he smelled, a clean masculine scent twinged with weed and wine, was sending me over the edge.
"I love your hair," I said to myself about the boy who was humming a tune in my lap, his eyes glazed and sleepy. "And I love your voice when it's soft and sleepy."
Matty closed his eyes took my hand from raking through his hair and kissed three of my knuckles tenderly, softly.
"All the girls do, Claire," he said, his eyes opening playfully.
I pinched his We are Kings tattoo and he squirmed.
"Play nice," Matty said, finishing his cigarette and throwing it over the balcony.
He raised up and sat on the stair level behind me, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me close to him.
"Look at that," he said, gesturing to the moon.
"It's gorgeous," I replied.
Matty kissed my cheek I smiled, closing my eyes and taking all of this in.
"You and I are so small, insignificant. There are thousands of other people, maybe millions, looking at the same moon right now, probably having the same thoughts," Matty thought out loud.
I took his hand in mine.
"What are you thinking?" I wondered.
Matty let out a throaty chuckle. "You aren't ready to hear that, love."
He stood and pulled me up with him, my bare feet against the wood of the stairs. Matty draped his leather jacket over me and brought my body close to his, his hands taking their rightful place on the small of my back.
My face was beginning to hurt from smiling so much, but I would take the pain any day to be blessed with it.
"Really," I said, running a finger down his chest, his abdomen, stopping just above his navel.
Matty's eyes were soulful, beautiful in countless ways. When they met mine and lingered too long, it was more intimate than any conversation I had ever had with another person.
"You don't want to know," he said, licking his lips, those eyes making me manic.
"Try me and see," I said, my tone playful.
But Matty's eyes were serious.
"I want you so much, my whole body aches, like I'm going mad. Your hands calm me, your lips ease me, and when I'm apart from you I feel sick all over again. I can't stand it, Claire, I have to have you," he spoke.
I gulped.
"Matty, I....I don't know," I trailed off, unable to find words to defend myself.
He shook his head, frustrated.
"Yes you do, Claire."
I twiddled with the hem of my dress.
"I want you too. It's just that I know you, Matty. I know you'll get tired of me. I know you'll dispose of me when you're done. You'll break my heart," I said, exhausted at my own words. "And George...George will be so mad at me."
Matty put a finger to my lips.
"I am done hearing about George fucking Daniel. I love him just as much as you, but I am done."
A sigh erupted from my mouth, in multiple syllables.
Matty's hands moved to my hips and he planted me against the door, his heavenly face inches from mine.
"I'm going to tell you what I'm thinking. I want to ask something of you that no one else ever has. And I want you to say yes," he told me, one hand cupping my ass and the other cradling my neck.
I was a good girl. I was a good girl. I was going to outlast him. I wasn't going to fall in love with him. I wasn't going to let him have all of my body, all of my heart, all of my being.
"Let me," he said, his mouth almost touching mine. "Let me fuck you so good it hurts. Let me take my time with you. Let me taste your tongue, your sweat, your tears. Let me fuck your mouth. Let me pull your hair. Let me go so deep inside of you you'll feel lost without me there," he spoke, his words sensual and confident.
I gasped onto his mouth, my body shaking, my words failing me.
"Say yes," he begged, his lips meeting my neck in an aching kiss. "Say yes, Claire."
Claire Madeline McDaniel. Age 23. Stayed in on weekends. Never wore anything above the knee.
She was gone.
She was lost.
She had disintigrated into oblivion, amongst this man's touch, his words, his soul.
"Yes," I stuttered.
His response to my answer was not in words, but in movement as he opened the door to his apartment in a fury, dragging me behind him amonst the crowd of people that were still there.
I might have saw Chelsea G sitting on Adam's lap, and Ross pecking Tinsley on the cheek, but we were moving too fast and I couldn't be certain.
He pulled me through the living room and down two hallways, in the direction of his bedroom.
Matty's eager hands pressed at my waist as his luscious lips move against my ear.
"Why even try to fight me off when you come so ill-prepared?" he said softly, taking my ear lobe in his teeth.
"We shouldn't," I said, putting a hand on his chest, my fingertips grazing the tattoo that peeking playfully underneath the collar of his shirt. "Not here."
I felt the music rattle the walls as I rested my back against the wall, Matty standing directly in front of me. We were down the long corridor to Matty's room, but it was easy to wander past if you were pissed drunk or high. These two characteristics made up for about ninety-nine percent on the people here.
Except me. I was a good girl. I wasn't like the girls who threw themselves at him. I had a bit too much to drink, though. I also had Matty Healy's mouth on my neck and hands making their way up my dress.
"Matty, this..."
Matty spun me around to where I was facing the wall, feeling his hardness press against my bottom. He continued to kiss my ear before moving his talented mouth to my neck, passionately sucking and kissing the flesh. I wrapped my arms around the back of his head, losing my fingers in his soft, messy curls. He left hand yanked the fabric around my breasts and felt them. His right hand was underneath my dress, feeling the damp crotch of my panties.
"Tell me," Matty moaned into my ear.
His index finger was tracing the lips of my vagina.
I was losing my fucking mind.
"Tell me," he repeated, his finger slipping into my wetess ad gently pressing on my aching clit.
My mouth opened in a gasp.
Objectively, I had a choice, sure. I could say no, walk away from him. Leave this party and never see him again. Realistically, I had no choice. This man, this fascinating being, had a hold on me that I had yet to ever experience in my twenty-three years of life. And he was touching my body, heart and soul in all the right places.
He wanted me, and I wanted him right back.
"I want you," I whispered, pressing my bottom against his cock.
Without a word, Matty spun me around once more, hoisting me up and throwing my legs around his waist. His mouth met mine and he kissed me wildly, tasting of tequila and wine and cigarettes. He began walking slowly to the door of his room, squeezing my ass and taking my bottom lip in his mouth. I kissed his neck and continued to run my hands through his hair.
"Fuck," he moaned, pressing me against his bedroom foor, my legs still wrapped around his waist.
His hand tugged at my bra, and he unclasped it in seconds before throwing it over his shoulder. He took my breast in his mouth, and I thought he was going to make me come before we even started to fuck.
Matty opened the door and kicked it shut behind him before throwing me on the bed. My hands didn't know what to touch: his beautiful face, his fucking hair, his small but toned body; they grasped onto him like I was falling from a cliff.
He kissed me some more, putting his thumb on my bottom lip. I put my teeth on it softly. His mouth made its way down my chest, kissing my stomach and navel.
Yes. Yes. A million times yes.
Matty's long, soft fingers climbed up my hips as he slid my panties down and threw them across the room. He sat up, his knees pinned my hips, and he pulled my dress up. He bit the corner of his bottom lip and his eyes were intense, gazed at my naked body in wonder.
"You're sure?" he asked, his hands now on either side of my face.
I gulped. "Yes."
Matty tugged at the zipper of his pants and I thrusted my hips at him; eagerly, hungrily.
The would could end and I wouldn't have known, I was so enthralled with him.
And as he placed his ample, rock-hard member inside of me, I lost myself to the world I knew.
It hurt; it hurt in the best way. The moans, the gruns, the winces, they yelped from my mouth as Matty thrusted himself into me, slowly, passionately. He was taking his time, easing his way into me, making sure I was comfortable. He was huge.
Every centimeter of my body was lit on fire as he slowly forced all of himself inside me, the pain, the pleasure, making me dizzy. He thrusted himself in and out, still slowly, one hand bracing himself up and the other cupping my face, making sure I was looking at him.
His eyes were so beautiful, and mine kept closing and opening in ectasy, only to find him there still, never leaving me. Matty sped up his pace a little and I moaned as he worked his body into mine. His lips met mine in a frenzy of hot, erratic kisses, only paused by my own moans.
"Matty," I whimpered his name.
He flipped me over to where I was straddling him, and the rush of the blood to my head made me lightheaded.
"Arch your back," his voice melted throughout my body.
I did what he asked, dreamily grinding my hips against his him, feeling his length consume me as I rode him back and forth. He groaned and grasped at my dress, which was now rouched around my hips. He thrust himself into me as I made love with him, smoothly, steadily.
His sexy mouth was turned up in a smile, his hands how in mine as I rode him, my body trembling above his.
"Be a good girl and bounce for Daddy," he said, his voice like butter.
Jesus.
He sat up, his back straight, and took my nipple in his mouth, encircling his tongue around the delicate bud as I bobbed against him, wild moans leaving my mouth.
"Matty, I'm..I'm going to come..." I said in between screams.
"Don't you dare," he told me as I ran my fingers through his lush hair.
Matty then took me off of his lap, removing himself from me.
The five seconds that he wasn't inside me were pure torture. I was a wet, trembling, mess for him. Matty took my hand and guided me off the bed and to my knees, moving my head toward his crotch. My tongue made his eyes close in delight, first flattening around the base, then licking his head in circles. He moaned and bit his lip, encouraging me as I took all of him in my mouth.
"Mmm, you're such a good girl," he said.
My lips kissed his shaft before I continued bobbing my head back and forth, my eyes watering as his massiveness hit the back of my throat. I didn't care, I wanted to please him, I wanted to make him feel half as good as he made me feel. Matty ran his hands through my hair as he continued to dominate my mouth.
I whimpered, needing him back inside of me.
Without any warning, Matty lifted me from the ground and slammed me against the wall, and I curled my legs around him tightly as he entered me in a viscious thrust.
"Matty!" I screamed his name as he pinned my wrists above my head and made love to me against the wall.
I was so close, I could't stand it.
I never wanted anything else more in my life.
The yearning was unreal, and it was just above my grasp.
His lips were at my neck again, moving in circles and kisses and bites that made me scream, made me high.
"You feel like heaven," Matty said into my ear as my legs began to shake wildly.
The sensation began at my toes. The sensation that only Matty Healy had ever caused and created. It crept up my calves, and penetrated my hips as he brought me to my peak, hard against the wall of his bedroom.
There was no space between our bodies, not a centimeter between my breasts and his chest, my neck and his mouth, his abdomen and my navel, his length and my now-trembling wetness, my hands and his hair; and yet still, I wanted him closer.
Matty's released my hands and I threw them around his neck, bracing myself for the orgasm that was moments away. He tugged at my hair and I screamed again, his massiveness pounding inside of me.
The waves were hitting once more, my nipples hard, my body sweating, my eyes closed. I moaned, I screamed, as he thrusted into me over, and over, and over, finally taking me to my peak. His length throbbed inside of me, his orgasm happening just seconds after mine.
Matty held me there for a minute as I gasped for air, his breath steamy on my neck as he moaned loudly, his length still twitching inside of me, his release filling me.
His lips met mine as I was catching my breath, slowly, madly, softly.
Matty backed up from the wall, his legs shaky as he carried me to the bed, removing himself from the quivering dampness between my legs, which were still wrapped around him.
He laid me on the bed, gently, as the oxygen filled my lungs and my breathing became more steady. His delicious mouth kissed the flesh of my cheek, my neck, my breasts, my ribs, my navel, before he came back to meet my lips again.
There were tears rolling down my cheeks.
What the hell did he just do to me?
Matty Healy had fucked me so good I had cried.
I lied there, in his arms, as he smoothed my hair back. My face rested on his abdomen now, my body completely lucid, feeling like I had a morphine drip medicating my entire body. I'm not quite sure how long I laid there, perhaps it was ten minutes that felt like a lifetime.
I was in a daze, I was in a dream.
"Mmm," Matty sighed. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting to do that."
He tossed my hair down my back and thumbed the tears off my cheek.
"Do you always cry when you come?" he said, his curls tinged with sweat, his face pink and eyes like melted chocolate.
I swallowed and took a moment to answer, to figure out how to move my mouth and formulate words.
"I...I don't think I've ever came like that," I answered him.
He chuckled at this and pulled me to his lap, my legs still like Jell-O.
"You're welcome," Matty teased.
"Matty," I began.
And with that, I lightly smacked his shoulder before he brought me back into his arms in a soulful embrace, nurturing me with each rise and fall of his chest as we fell asleep amongst the moon, amongst our thrown clothes, amongst the tangled sheets.
=
I woke that next morning, the sunlight friendly and inviting, illuminating the room.
Immediately, I smiled from ear to ear. He was lying behind me, still cradling my body against his.
"Good morning," he said, his sleepy voice like heaven as it cascaded into my ear.
"Morning," I yawned. "I need a cigarette," I exhaled.
Matty chuckled and kissed up my jaw slowly, delicate little butterflies of his lips, making his way to mouth more in a tender gesture. He rose from the bed, carrying me around the room to find the cigarette pack in the pocket of his jacket that had been thrown somewhere to the floor amongst our passionate moments.
I giggled, my hands running through hair, caressing the skin of his neck.
"Matty, why are you carrying me around?" I asked.
The beautiful man contiued to maneuver our bodies together, finally finding his jacket, cradling my hips agaisnt his forearm. as he fiddled with his jacket and found his menthols.
"Because I can," Matty answered me, grunting as he carried me back to the bed.
"Barely," I giggled at him.
We were seated on the bed now, his arm draped over me, our backs to the wall. Matty passed me a cigarette that he held between his middle and index finger.
"True, you're much heavier than you look," Matty laughed.
I nudged his shoulder as I stole his lighter, bringing the flame to the cigarette as I tried to suppress a smile. I was in awe of him, in awe of the events that unfolded last night.
"Don't hate," I said, my eyes fluttering out the sleep.
Matty's fingers raked through my hair and he kissed my cheek once more and we smoked our cigarettes in unison. His breathing was like music, a melody, a chorus, that eased all my nerves. He put his cigarette out in an ashtray and took mine from me, doing the same.
Suddenly, he whipped me over to where I was lying on my back.
"Mmm, I love your body," Matty said, his hands trailing up my thighs, up my waist, my cheeks.
I braced myself up on my elbows as Matty kissed me passionately.
I shivered, "Matty, I don't think I'm ready to go again."
Matty chuckled, his eyes so bright.
"Don't worry, baby. Just let me kiss you," Matty said.
"Where?" I asked, hesitant. Matty had done enough damage tonight to last me a lifetime.
"Let me kiss all of my favorite parts," Matty said, winking at me. "Your mouth," he placed a tender kiss on my lips.
He then moved his mouth to my neck, "This little spot here that makes you moan."
Matty kissed it achingly and I did, indeed, moan.
"Your little button nose," I giggled as he kissed my nose. "Your collarbones; this little mole between your breasts; your tummy, your belly button," he planted each said area with kisses as I beamed from ear to ear.
"And this part," he gestured at the area between my legs.
We were both still completely naked, sans a sheet that covered some parts of our bodies.
"I am madly, clinically, devastatingly in love with this part," Matty said, bringing his mouth to the warmth beneath my legs that was still recovering from last night.
"Matthew!" I scream whispered at him. "Don't you dare."
"Ugh," he groaned, "just a quick peck for you then," he said, softly bringing his lips to the top of my little mound.
A noise left my mouth: something between a whimper and a laugh.
Matty moved my body to where we were both on our sides, inches apart, his arms wrapped around my waist, his legs intertwined with mine. His face was art; unnatural; there was no end to the aspects I could list on and on.
My whole body was afloat with him, with his charms and his voice.
We laid there a moment, our bodies twisted together, my heart melting as Matty sang the tune of "Love Me Teder", his voice lush and melodic. His nose tickled mine as his lips pursed in a smile.
"Lets enver do anything but what we're doing right now," Matty's dreamy voice uttered.
If only.
"I have to be at class in an hour," I groaned, never wanting to leave his arms.
"Mmm, I'll drive you to class," Matty said, his hands rubbing my back.
My lips met his again, again, and again. I never wanted to stop kissing him, in this sunny morning, our lucid bodies molded together, our souls beginning to do the same.
"Matty," I sighed, caressing his handsome face in my hands.
"Yes babe?" he asked me.
"Do you want tea?" I asked him, kissing the mole on his cheek.
"Mmm-hmm," he said into my ear before nipping at it and making me squeal.
I exhaled and kissed him some more.
My, God, what had I done?