#vintage black clutch | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

BuzzFeed published a report claiming that Tumblr was utilized as a distribution channel for Russian agents to influence American voting habits during the 2016 presidential election in Feb 2018.

#vintage black clutch

zegalba · 9 months

Text

my vintage 1930’s black chain mail clutch

#zegalba #mine #chain mail #black #clutch #bag #vintage #1930s #edc #stuff #layout 1

5K notes · View notes

bebemoon · 9 months

Text

look for the name: LAILA

@lilaxizze

alexander mcqueen bias-cut black chiffon evening gown, from the 'deliverance' collection, s/s 2oo4

kthyscrafts (on etsy) handmade chiffon black cape/veil

saint laurent "suite 1o5" satin sandals in black

oakcha "midnight nymph" eau de parfum, inspired by yves saint laurent's "black opium"

alexander mcqueen small silver metal "ottone" jewelled clutch

early victorian cut steel upper arm cuff/armlet

chanel pearl, enamel and bead silver cuff bracelet

434 notes · View notes

womenofwrestlingfashion · 26 days

Text

Fav Hour Is Golden Earrings from Fashion Nova ($6.49 - on sale), Corduroy Double Breasted Jacket from Helsa (sold out), Satin Touch 20 Tights in Black from Wolford ($45), Annaise Short in Chocolate Brown from LaMarque ($295), Jorian Up Boot in Black from Schutz ($174 - onsale) & Vintage Dior Clutch

4 notes · View notes

darlingdawnvintage · 1 year

Text

Just listed 80’s vintage black patent leather clutch • large oversized bag fabulous and fits a lot! Magnetic clasp under bow • I was tempted to keep her…. Up for grabs see my Etsy link to shop

#vintage fashion #shop vintage #vintage #vintage shop #vintage purses #black purse #clutch #patent leather #bows #holiday party #holidayfashion #vintage glamour #80's fashion #90s fashion #darling #shopvintage #vintage shopping #sustainablefashion

1 note · View note

venusiancharisma · 27 days

Text

Rising Sign & Your Perfect Festival Outfit

Here are the perfect any music festival outfits for each of the 12 zodiac signs and Ascendants, with details on color schemes, materials, accents, and overall aesthetics:

PSA: Images and descriptions are both complimentary, so they may not be entirely identical, but everything is relevent.

Aries Rising: Bold and daring, an Aries rising would rock a fiery red crop top paired with high-waisted denim shorts. Accessorize with a black leather choker, combat boots, and a statement belt. The outfit screams confidence and adventure.

Taurus Rising: Earthy and sensual, a Taurus rising would opt for a flowy, bohemian-style maxi dress in shades of green and brown. Pair with a leather fringe vest, ankle boots, and a wide-brimmed hat. The outfit exudes comfort and laid-back elegance.

Gemini Rising: Playful and eclectic, a Gemini rising would mix and match patterns and colors. A graphic tee paired with a colorful, patterned skirt, fishnet stockings, and high-top sneakers. Accessorize with layered necklaces and quirky sunglasses for a fun, youthful vibe.

Cancer Rising: Soft and feminine, a Cancer rising would choose a vintage-inspired, pale blue sundress with delicate lace details. Pair with a cozy, oversized cardigan, ankle-strap sandals, and a small, cross-body bag. The outfit radiates comfort and nostalgia.

Leo Rising: Bold and dramatic, a Leo rising would make a statement in a metallic gold romper with a plunging neckline. Accessorize with a chunky, gold chain necklace, oversized sunglasses, and platform heels. The outfit screams glamour and confidence.

Virgo Rising: Clean and practical, a Virgo rising would opt for a crisp, white button-down shirt tucked into high-waisted, black denim shorts. Pair with a black leather belt, minimalist jewelry, and comfortable, low-top sneakers. The outfit is polished and effortlessly chic.

Libra Rising: Elegant and balanced, a Libra rising would choose a flowy, pastel pink maxi skirt paired with a white, off-the-shoulder crop top. Accessorize with delicate, gold jewelry, strappy sandals, and a woven clutch. The outfit is feminine and harmonious.

Scorpio Rising: Mysterious and alluring, a Scorpio rising would opt for a black, lace bodysuit paired with high-waisted, faux leather leggings. Layer with a sheer, black kimono, and accessorize with a choker, ankle boots, and a dark, smoky eye. The outfit is seductive and intense.

Sagittarius Rising: Adventurous and free-spirited, a Sagittarius rising would rock a tie-dye, cropped t-shirt paired with distressed, cut-off denim shorts. Accessorize with a woven, multicolored belt, layered anklets, and gladiator sandals. The outfit is playful and adventurous.

Capricorn Rising: Classic and sophisticated, a Capricorn rising would choose a sleek, solid & colored co-ord with a structured, cinched waist. Pair with knee high or thigh high black boots or dainty shoes, minimalist jewelry, and subtly refined look. The outfit is timeless and powerful.

Aquarius Rising: Unique and unconventional, an Aquarius rising would opt for a holographic, iridescent bodysuit paired with high-waisted, flared pants. Accessorize with a chunky, silver choker, platform boots, and a brightly colored, faux fur coat. The outfit is futuristic and eccentric.

Pisces Rising: Dreamy and ethereal, a Pisces rising would choose a flowy, sheer, pastel purple maxi dress with delicate, floral embroidery. Layer with a soft, crochet cardigan, and accessorize with a flower crown, layered, beaded necklaces, and strappy, barefoot sandals. The outfit is whimsical and enchanting.

#astrology #zodiac #natal chart #sagittarius #astro notes #libra #capricorn #astro observations #virgo

512 notes · View notes

charcoallbaby · 3 months

Text

fake marriage

smuttyyyyy ofc so 18+ also a lil toxic

tired asf i’ll do a spelling check tmrw thx for reading!

having a fake marriage was definitely one of the best thing to ever exist especially since i get paid to pretend to love a man who is basically heartless, well to most people he is.

i get to live in a giant penthouse in the city of boston, i get a huge bedroom, with a ensuite plus a balcony, free clothes, mostly everything gets handed to me.

as much i love being in this fake marriage, there are some cons mostly because of matt. i mostly hate hearing him fuck girls in the room next to me, when i can’t do anything like that, he’s very protective of me, he gets jealous very easily, he doesn’t really let me talk to any male being while he’s with me. he punishes me by not paying me that week which doesn’t really effect me, the amount of money i’ve made since this marriage is insane, it would take me months to run through it. but in matt’s eyes he’s somehow “punishing me.”

tonight was a black-tie event for one of his many company’s. he got me a vintage chanel dress from the 90s. it was the most beautiful dress i’ve ever laid my eyes on, i knew the price of the dress would be nothing to him, he just wantedme to look good standing beside him.

“ready?” matt asked while fixing his cufflinks on his wrist. “yeah, i just need to get my heels on.” i grabbed my silver heels from my collection of different types of heels.

“the cars outside y/n.” he looked me up and down. “fuck, can you grab my bag?” i asked slipping myheels on. he rolled his eyes and grabbed my bag off my vanity. “thank you.” i took my small clutch from his hands and made my way to the elevator.

“behave tonight,” matt whispered in my ear before placing his hand around my waist, smiling for the cameras. “i always do.” i say through my teeth. “we’ll see about that love.” he pressed a light kiss to my cheek.

everything is for the cameras and i mean that. the touching, the kissing, theres no contact between us at home. before today i hadn’t spoken to matt in probably 3 days. not that he would talk to me anyway. he only talks to his parents, his 2 brothers, the maids who clean the house(mostly flirting) and the girls he fucks in the guest bedroom, matt would never dare to fuck a girl in his own bed, he’s really weird about that type of thing, he hates when anyone goes into his room well everyone but the maids, as i said he flirts with them a lot, just to make them blush, it boosts his already massive ego. after i come home from picking up some groceries up or going to visit my friends, i hear him making up some story of how he saved an animal or how much money he gives to charity which i know he does. but he hates people, hates them other than the couple people he talks to.

mine and matt’s hands were interlinked as we walked into the building.

“how long have you guys been married?” the older women infront of us asked. i looked up at matt before speaking, “well me and matt have been together 3 years, married for 1,” i gave a fake smile to the women. “that’s just so beautiful!” she chimed. matt gave the women a small smile. “wait!” “what about kids, do you have kids?” matt’s let go of my hand and put the hand i just holding around my waist. i cleared my through before awkwardly laughing. “no, no,” “not as of right now,” i smiled. “maybe soon,” matt finally spoke. “oh really!” she exclaimed. “yes matt really!” i looked up at him, he looked down at me before looking back at the women. “maybe not soon, but in the future.” he licked his lips. “wonderful!” “it was nice talking to your mr and mrs sturniolo, i’m going to find my husband he wanders off!” she laughed. “you too.” matt gave her a straight lined smile. “bye.” i smiled.

me and matt watched her walk away. “fuck,” he took a deep breath. “having kids soon are we?” i turned to him. he moved both his hands around my waist as he looked down at me. “only said that for people to have something to talk about,” i could feel his warm hands through my dress. “it’s crazy how such a cold hearted person can make something up like that,” i teased him. he looked away from me, chuckled before looking back at me again. “you look good.” he licked his teeth. “yeah you too.” i touched his right bicep.

“thank you everyone for coming tonight,” matt awkwardly had his hand in his pocket as he gave a speech. “i would like to thank my team and my wife,” “thanks.” he awkwardly put his drink up in the air before taking a sip.

the room was filled with people loudly clapping.

“what’s wrong?” matt asked as he came down by from the stage. “my feet hurt.” i whined. “y/n baby, i didn’t marry you to whine about your feet come on let’s get a drink.” he put his hand on my back and guided me towards the bar.

“what would you guys like?” the bartender asked. “scotch on the rocks,” “y/n?” matt asked. i looked at the bartender. he smiled at me. i gave him back a small smile. i cleared my throat. “i’ll have a-” “she’ll have a glass of white wine,” matt interrupted me. “alright, that’ll be coming straight up,” he looked at me. “are you trying to piss me off?” he leaned down and whispered into my ear. “no,” i gulped. “you were flirting with that guy,” “matt i just smiled.” “we’re going home, come on.” he grabbed my hand.

the car ride was silent. matt was on his phone making the back of the SUV slightly light up. i looked out the window, mostly trying to notfall asleep.

matt pressed the button for the elevator. he stood there my heels in his hand while looking down at the marbled floor on the lobby floor.

the elevator opened, no one inside. we both walked in. matt pressed the number for our apartment before leaning his head against the wall behind him, closing his eyes. he looked so sexy, his jawline was sharp as fuck, his long hair falling over his eyes and his tie wrapped around his shoulders, he took it off when we got in the car. i pressed the emergency button making the elevator immediately stop. matt’s eyes darted open. he looked at me.

“why’d you stop the elevator y/n?” he groaned. “why are you so overly protective with me matt?” “you know i don’t flirt with guys especially in front of you, you love to make shit up did you see me flirt with that bartender?” “i simply smiled at him as a nice human does,” i crossed my arms. matt rolled his eyes. “what would you like to pretend that i don’t care?” “y/n, you think i care about who you flirt with?” “i actually couldn’t care fucking less, i just you know like to make this marriage look a little bit realistic,” he leaned over and re-pressed over apartment floor button. the elevator began moving again. “this marriage would be a little realistic when i have people over for you to not be fucking some girl,” i looked down at my nails. “what’d say?” “you heard me loud and clear,” the elevator doors opened. “thanks for holding my heels baby.” i grabbed the heels from his hand and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek just to piss him off even more.

i made my way to my room before matt grabbed my arm turning me around. “who do you think you are?” matt asked. i shrugged my shoulders before turning back around. “y/n!” matt yelled, pulling me back and pressing me against the wall beside us. “come on baby, tell me,” matt roughly held my waist. “i’m your wife matt,” i looked up at him. “your my wife y/n and i would like if you actually listened to me when i talked to you,” his grip on my hips became softer. “i’m sorry, i promise i’ll listen better next time daddy,” i batted my eyelashes. his eyes rolled into the back of my head. “i’m going to bed.” he backed away from me. “sweet dreams husband.”

after the little scene matt made, i changed out of my dress and walked into the kitchen to find a snack to eat.

i sat myself down at the kitchen island, a bowl of ice cream in front of me, my phone in my left hand, the spoon in my right. i had been thinking of eating this ice cream all day and now i finallygot a chance.

i was nearly half way through the bowl before shirtless matt walked into the kitchen, he had those plaid pj pants he loved with of course the waist band of his boxers sticking out. i rolled my eyes before focusing back onto the ice cream. i could hear matt open the fridge. i quickly looked at his back. it was so defined, his tattoos making it way hotter that it actually had to be.

“do we have any spare batteries anywhere?” i spoke. matt turned around, opened-water bottle in his hand. “why?” he asked. “for my vibarator,” i popped the spoon into my mouth. matt choked on his water. “do you know?” i asked. he cleared his throat. “yeah, there’s some in the uh-in my office on my desk.” he swallowed. “okay thanks!” i cheekily smiled. matt mumbled something i couldn’t make out before walking back to his room.

i opened matt’s office door to find him sitting on one of the couch’s controller in his hand playing his playstation. hm coincidence.

“sorry i just need to grab those batteries,” i walked past him and looked around his desk. i couldn’t see them. “matt where are they?” i turned around and looked at him. “they should be there,” he said not taking his eyes off the tv. i rolled mine while looking back down at the desk. “matt it’s an empty packet,” i held it up. he finally looked at me.“oh shit yeah- i was just being a nice husband, i already put the batteries in for you there sweetheart,” he flashed me a smile before looking back at the tv. i stomped over right infront of him. “i can’t see the tv princess,” “pause it then,” i bit the inside of my cheek. he paused it, placing the controller beside him. “you went through my stuff?” “you held my viborator!” “yeah, it was a nice one,” he smirked at me. “what the fuck!” “your insane!” i yelled. “eh,” “i’m not that bad love.” he opened his legs, man spreading.

i exhaled. “why would you think that would be a good idea?” i put a hand through my hair. “it was a nice gesture, don’t you think?” he poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue. i groaned. “it’s fucking weird!” “your not even my real husband!” “well if this makes you feel any better i did it so it would make the marriage more realistic,” he titled his head at me. “don’t bring that shit back up matt!” i whimpered.

“come on, it’s okay,” matt pulled himself more towards me. he placed his hands on my waist while looking up at me. “matt what are you doing?” i groaned. “it’s okay.” he pressed his warms lips against my stomach. i slowly closed my eyes. his lips stayed on my stomach while he slipped a finger up my shorts and into my underwear. he slid his finger into my soaking core. i let out a moan. he moved his finger inside me. after a few seconds his finger left me. i opened my eyes. his finger in his mouth. “oh fuck, you taste good,” he moaned. “let me eat you out,” he pulled me by the waistband of my shorts towards him making me fall down onto his lap. i quickly felt how hard he was underneath me. “lay there,” he said moving the controller onto the coffee table in front of us. i nodded my head. i layed myself down. matt licked his lips before pulling my shorts and underwear off. he placed himself between my legs. he was quick to slowly suck my clit. i cried out. “all you do is touch yourself y/n, i bet your dying for this,” matt groaned against me. he slipped his tongue into my licking up all my juices like it’s the best thing he’s every tasted. my hands were pulling onto his hair while parting my mouth open in pleasure. “ma-matt!” i cried out. “nearly there baby?” he pulled away from me making his warm breath hit off the pool he was between. “mhm.” i mumbled.

matt gave me one long stride between my folds before pulling away from me. i opened my eyes and whined. i was on the edge of coming. “i wanna fuck you,” matt said feeling his hard on through his pants. “okay-okay.” i breathed out. “not here, in my room.”

matt placed me down onto his bed, his lips softly meeting mine. we’ve kissed before around people but not alone, it felt so much more different this time.

“you on the pill?” he asked pulling his boxers down. i nodded my head. “i’m gonna fuck you without a condom cause to be fair, i don’t really care if i get you pregnant, your my wife after all.”

matt was inside me, not moving. i was trying to adjust his size. “you can do it, i know you can, matt whispered into my ear. “mhm,” i mumbled. he started to move inside me slowly but then started to pick it up. his arm was hovering over me, grabbing the headboard for support “fuckkkkkkk,” he moaned. “y/n, i’m gonna fuck you until the sun rises okay?” he grunted. “y-yeah.” i let out. “such a girl good for me.” he placed a kiss to my lips. his necklace that had a horse pendant was dangling over me, i got him it for his birthday that he claimed to only wear when we have to put our act on but he wears it all time.

i clenched around matt for like the 4th time in the last 2 and half hours.

matt dropped himself down beside me. “it gets better every fucking time y/n i swear.” matt said before sucking a nipple into his mouth. “mhm, i know baby.” i closed my eyes and put a hand through his hair and down his neck.

he popped my nipple out of his mouth before looking up at me. “you wanna order food, we can fuck inbetween don’t worry, i just hungry as fuck when i have sex,” he leaned his chin between the gaps my boobs. “yeah i could eat something i’m starving,” i ran my hand over his cheek. “your choice to pick.” he said before kissing my lips and getting up to throw his pj pants back on. i looked up at him sprawled out on his bed, naked. “am i the only girl you’ve had in this bed?” i asked. “pretty much,” he grabbed his t-shirt from the ground. “i feel special,” i grinned. he jokingly rolled his eyes. “don’t worry, not gonna happen again,” “that’s what you say until you hear me moan your name while my vibartor is between my thighs,” i sat up. “you think of me?” he chuckled. i nodded my head. “my wife actually thinks of me while masturbating, im a lucky man.”

“yeah, no more sex.” i spoke before rolling my eyes.

#matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #imagine #smut #matt sturniolo smut #pov

783 notes · View notes

cupid-styles · 4 months

Text

new year's stranger

in which harry and y/n only see each other on new year's and he tries to convince her it's fate.

word count: 5.5k

content warnings: cheating (not on y/n or harry), drinking, drug use

masterlist | talk to me

. . .

New Year's Eve, 2020

Y/N hates New Year's.

If it were up to her, she'd sleep right through it, but Alice would never let her do that. It's why she's at this party to begin with. The owner of the house is a friend of Alice's who Y/N has never met, and isn't expecting to be introduced to tonight. The second they walked in, it was pure chaos, and it set off blaring alarms of anxiety throughout her entire body. She'd lost Alice somewhere around 10:30, but she was grateful that despite having a less than fun time, time still ticked steadily to midnight.

The sooner 2021 arrives, the sooner she can leave.

Harry, on the other hand, doesn't mind New Year's, but he hates this party.

Gemma forced him out with her and her boyfriend after finding out his planned accompaniment for the evening was a bottle of red wine and his favorite Elton John records. She said she hated to see him having a hard time with the breakup (that made Harry want to throw up on the spot) and demanded that he at least try to have a nice time tonight.

However, she failed to loop him in on the details of this party, which was apparently a proper rager that had him feeling like he was 17 again, but only in the worst ways.

He wasn't snooty by any means, but if one more drunk person comes up to him and asks if he's the Harry Styles, Gemma and her boyfriend can try to find an Uber home.

(He would actually never do that, knowing it would be impossible to locate one that wasn't three times the normal price given the holiday, but he can't help imagining cozying up in his bed, clutching one of his ex-girlfriend's tee-shirts, soaking it with tears, and falling asleep.)

It's why he's taken to sitting outside in this stranger's backyard, enjoying their wooden patio set. He doesn't typically smoke but he's chain smoking cigarettes tonight; he asked to bum one off of some guy inside, and he gave him the entire pack because he's — you guessed it — that lad from One Direction! So now it's sitting prettily next to a half-gone bottle of Cabernet, and Harry really, truly thinks this may be the worst New Year's he's had in a very long time.

He's grateful no one's discovered his little hiding spot yet, but perhaps he's spoken too soon as he takes a draw from the lit cigarette in his right hand. His shoulders tense when he hears the patio door slide open, desperately hoping Gemma found him and wants to go home.

"Oh, fuck, I'm sorry." The voice says, making Harry crane his neck slightly to see its owner. He can't really tell if he recognizes them, but it's clearly a female figure dressed in a black mini skirt, tights, and an oversized vintage sweater. "I didn't know anyone was out here, sorry."

"'s fine," Harry mutters, stubbing his cigarette out in the grass and toeing it out with his slip-on Vans, "It's all yours."

He goes to stand up, reaching over to grab the neck of the bottle of wine, when he accidentally bumps into the small table and knocks it over. He curses loudly as he watches the deep red hue stain the concrete floor, the puddle growing larger with each passing second.

"That's unfortunate." she points out and he scoffs. If he wasn't in such a piss poor mood, he may have contemplated cleaning it up, but he's decided that he doesn't like the owners of the house, especially because of their tiny little patio table.

"I think the hosts of this party are dicks, so I wouldn't worry about wiping that up," she says, almost as if she's reading his mind, "Sorry if you're friends with them."

"I'm not." Harry says curtly, leaning down to at least pick up the shattered pieces of glass.

"That's good. They're letting people do blow and ketamine off their dining room table. I think breakfast tomorrow will be interesting."

He snorts as he gathers broken chunks. He thinks that she's left him alone when he doesn't hear her ramble on anymore, but she returns a moment or two later with a garbage bag. She gets down on her knees and nudges the opening in his direction, wordlessly encouraging him to drop the pieces in it.

"Thanks." he mumbles through a sigh.

"Sure," she nods, "Having a bad night?"

"Yeah. Don't really feel like talking about it, to be honest."

Harry knows better than to discuss personal matters with strangers at parties (he learned that lesson years ago), regardless of how down he's feeling. She shuts up after that and continues helping him clean up the shards, tying off the bag when all that's left is a dark purple mess.

"I'll toss it." he says, stretching his arm out to take the garbage bag. She nods and gives it to him. "Thank you for helping."

He hopes she takes the hint as he ambles through the darkness of this unfamiliar backyard, attempting to locate the garbage bins. Eventually, he finds one (he knew they were shitty people, they don't even have a separate one for recycling!), and breathes a sigh of relief when he turns and sees that she's gone. He was starting to worry that she would ask for a picture or an autograph.

He sits back in his original seat and pulls his phone from his pants pocket, scrolling through drunken New Year's texts from people he barely knows. Really, he's only looking for two names (Gemma looking for him, or his ex-girlfriend magically deciding she needs to be with him going into the new year), but neither appear. He grumbles and reaches over to grab the pack of cigarettes, jumping in surprise when he realizes the girl is standing there with another bottle of wine.

He clutches his chest dramatically, "Were you trying to scare me or something?"

"Oh! No, I'm sorry, you just looked busy so I was waiting," she replies, placing the unopened bottle on the table. "Here. Um, is it okay if I sit out here? We don't have to talk. I know you said you don't want to."

His night can't get much worse, so why not split some wine that suspiciously appeared with a stranger that refuses to leave him alone?

"Sure." he mutters.

As promised, it's silent for awhile. She doesn't say anything but he notices her pick at her tights, then her nails, clearly antsy from the lack of discussion. The steady thumping from the music inside is the only relief.

He doesn't know if it's been five or 10 or maybe even 15 minutes, but finally, he breaks. He holds in a sigh as he turns his head to look at her.

"Are you having a bad night, too?"

She shrugs. "Kind of. I just don't really like New Year's."

He nods in understanding, "It is a bit overhyped."

"I lost my friend awhile ago," she adds, biting her lip. "I feel like I'll end up just going home a little after midnight."

"Yeah, my sister and her boyfriend dragged me here but I haven't seen them in hours."

She chuckles humorlessly. "Maybe I'll just try to get a cab now."

Harry glances at the time on his phone screen. It's 11:04 and he knows it would be stupid to do the thing he's thinking about, but he can't help it — maybe it's the strange connection he's feeling to his fellow sad stranger, or maybe he just really wants to go home and needs a good excuse. The words are leaving his mouth before he even truly contemplates it.

"That's crazy, you'll never be able to get an Uber at this time. If you don't live too far, I can give you a ride."

Y/N is quick to bat him off, easily rejecting his offer. "Thank you, but you don't have to do that. I'm sure you have tons of plans tonight."

A wrinkle forms between Harry's brows. "No, actually. This was it. And if I'm being honest, I'm dying to get out of here, too."

He watches as she contemplates it, gnawing on her bottom lip and wringing her hands in her lap like a child. Finally, he speaks up.

"I'm leaving with or without you, so really, it's your choice."

Her eyes glance over to him and she quickly nods, gathering her purse to her side. "Okay, yeah. I'll take the ride, please."

"Sure," he says with a nod, rising from his seat. "Do you live far from here?"

She gives him her address, surprised to find out that she only lives a few streets over from his own apartment. He sends off a text to Gemma, claiming that he ran into someone and needed to take them home (it wasn't a complete lie, even if he knows he was being pushy about leaving), and they silently walk in the dark, one in front of the other, quiet footsteps sounding against the stone pathway of the backyard. Eventually, they approach his sleek black Range Rover, Harry mumbling out a "this is me" and unlocking the doors so she can get in the passenger's seat.

"Thank you again for this," she says as he cranks the heat up. He had noticed that her teeth were chattering on the short walk back to his car.

"'s fine."

Harry doesn't play music or say anything else on the short drive to her place. Exhaustion is hitting hard and he's ready to go home and curl up in a sad ball. When he pulls up to her apartment, she's already clicking her seatbelt off and pulling her keys out of her bag. He wonders if he was being that standoffish, to the point where she's all but jumping out of his moving car.

"Well, happy New Year." she murmurs with a small smile, glimpsing over at his tight expression. He nods curtly, hands gripping the steering wheel.

"Happy New Year." he returns tersely.

"I hope 2021 is better for you," she says, her tone almost so genuine it makes his heart thump wildly in his chest, but just for a moment. "I'm sorry you had a shitty night."

He swallows harshly, willing away the lump of tears forming in his throat just from a stranger's kindness.

"Same to you."

She pauses, as if she wants to say more, but instead pushes the door open and gets out. With one last smile, she waves goodbye to Harry.

He waits to make sure she gets in safely before driving away.

. . .

New Year's Eve, 2021

"I'm not going out to a karaoke bar on New Year's Eve."

Y/N rolls her eyes at Mike, her boyfriend of six months. She had told him weeks ago that this was the plan for the night — her friends wanted to have a fun time out, and after last year's disaster of an evening, she was more than willing to put some cash in to rent out a room at a karaoke bar in downtown LA. But of course, a mere hour before they were due to all meet up for dinner, Mike was trying to bail.

"You agreed to this forever ago," Y/N replies with a sigh, lowering her eye shadow brush. She swivels in her seat to face him with a slight pout. "It'll be fun, I promise."

"What's so fun about people singing shitty cover songs all night?" he sneers, crossing his arms over his chest childishly. "I think it would be better if I just went to Reese's place tonight. He's having a party, you should go there instead, too."

"I already put money down and told my friends I was doing this with them, Mike."

He scoffs. "But I'm your boyfriend."

"And they're my friends."

"So you're seriously gonna ditch me, then?" he asks snidely, a pang of guilt firing through Y/N's chest.

"I mean, maybe I can meet up with you later? I can try to come to Reese's after dinner or something."

He rolls his eyes, making him look like an angsty teenager.

"Whatever. Don't bother, I'll just see you tomorrow or something."

Mike doesn't even send her off with a kiss or wish her a happy New Year before he's out the door. Y/N sighs, resisting the urge to bury her head in her hands and mess up the makeup she's applied to her face. Mike was great at the beginning — she thought she'd really gotten lucky with him, but around two months ago, he started acting like everything she asked him to do was a chore. From date nights to attending family dinners at her parents' place, he always made her feel dumb for requesting his presence.

She tries to ignore the anxiety brewing in her stomach when she meets her friends for dinner. They all ask where he is, and when she has to say that he would rather go play video games with his friends all night, they're quick to jump on what an awful boyfriend he is. She knows that — she really, truly knows that, and she doesn't know why she hasn't ended things yet.

When they get to the karaoke bar around 10 pm, Y/N's already tired, even if she's attempting to press on and make the most of her night. She giggles as she watches her friends scream the lyrics to songs by Queen and Fleetwood Mac, and she's particularly impressed by Nina's cover of "good 4 u" by Olivia Rodrigo, which she of course dedicates to Y/N.

With a few shots and two mystery cocktails under her belt, Y/N's actually having a good time. She excuses herself 10 minutes before midnight to go to the bathroom, not wanting to miss out on any of the excitement when the clock strikes 12.

Only, when she's walking down the long hallway, her eyes on the floor as she navigates her slightly drunken steps, she bumps into a figure. A hard figure, wearing a fuzzy cardigan.

And when she glances up, it's the last person she expects to see.

"Holy shit!" the curly haired brunette exclaims, pupils wide and breath smelling of tequila. It's clear that he's just as messed up as she is, if not a little bit more. "You're that girl from last year!"

She immediately giggles, the warmth of the alcohol in her system dismissing any embarrassment she may have felt otherwise.

"From that shitty house party, right?" she asks, thinking back to 2020.

"Yes!" he shouts, slamming his palm against his forehead. "You helped me clean up that wine!"

"And you drove me home." she laughs.

"Oh my god, this is crazy," he declares, making Y/N laugh even harder, "Sorry, I'm kinda fucked, but this is still exciting."

"Why? We were both having awful nights last year and I could tell you wanted nothing more than to kick me out of your car."

"What are you talking about? You were the nicest person I met at that party," he replies with a slight wrinkle between his brows, "Plus, you were the best part, since you got me out of it."

Y/N snorts. A few people attempt to brush past them in the hallway and they both move to the side, leaning their shoulders against the wall.

"I'm glad I could be of service," she says with a smirk. "What are you doing here tonight? Are you having a better New Year's?"

"I mean, I'm definitely higher and drunker this year," he cracks and it makes her roll her eyes playfully, "How about you? Feeling good?"

She allows the question to ping pong around in circumference of her brain. She was feeling good, but only because of alcohol, her friends, and the absence of her boyfriend. Taking a beat, she looks up at the green-eyed male before her, her breath catching in her throat when she realizes he's somehow gotten closer, likely because of all the traffic in the hallway. She swallows, her throat suddenly feeling dry.

"I'm feeling good," she finally answers, wringing her hands together in front of her.

"That doesn't really sound like a confident answer." he teases, crossing his arms over his chest. Her eyes flutter down to the tee-shirt he wears underneath the striped cardigan, the word sex scrawled simply across his chest.

"I had a fight with my boyfriend before I came here," she admits, though she doesn't quite know why, "He knew about these plans for weeks and he just bailed to go play video games with his friends. I'm kind of pissed about it."

He hums and she notices that his jaw clenches slightly when he presses his lips into a line. She's not sure if it's from the drugs or something else, but she quickly glances back up at his eyes.

"Sounds like a dick move." he says decidedly. Y/N shrugs.

"He's kind of a dick, to be honest."

That makes him bark out a laugh, shaking his head as his lips form into a half-hearted smile.

"What do you need to turn your night around, then?" he asks, patting his pockets as he looks for something, "I have some more coke on me if you need to get inappropriately high. I'm also not against buying you shots at the bar, but given my inebriated state, I unfortunately can't be your Uber driver tonight."

"Do you always speak like a scholar when you're fucked?" Y/N mocks with a smirk.

"Maybe," he grins, "So what can I get you, New Year's stranger?"

It hits her then that they've never exchanged names. Not officially, at least. Y/N of course knew who he was — his name and face had spent the better part of 2020 being plastered across tabloids, and she recognized him back to his One Direction days — but it felt weird to just assume as much.

Likewise, Harry wasn't above asking Gemma if she was familiar with the girl he'd met a year ago today. He hoped she may have some connection to her, given the fact that her silly little ramblings stuck around in his brain far longer than he would've anticipated. After Gemma asked around, he learned her name, but never did anything with it, instead opting for a year of distracted hookups and flings.

And even without acknowledging the fact that they each know the other's names, they're somehow more comfortable with being a New Year's stranger.

"Can I bum a cigarette off you?" Y/N asks, remembering back to last year when he was chain smoking, somewhat pathetically, on the back porch.

"Haven't smoked for a year," he replies cheekily, "But I can ask a friend for one if you want."

She shakes her head. "I just need some air, really. Would you wanna take a breather with me?"

Harry nods and follows her out, eager to speak with her away from the crowded, loud interior of the bar. He can't help but check her out from behind, lips pressing together as he drinks in her thin slip dress, black tights, and platform heels. She looks cute. Similar to last year, just a tad more mature. It fits her, he thinks.

When they get outside, Y/N's ears are ringing, but her warm skin is enthralled by LA's sad excuse for winter weather. She instantly feels less clammy, leaning back against the brick exterior of the building and allowing it to cool her. Harry follows her lead, his mind spinning slightly as he continues to take her in.

"How've you been?" he finally asks, desperate to break the silence. She peeks an eye open and glances at him in her peripheral.

"Fine. Work's busy. Friends are good. Boyfriend's... there," she answers in short sentences, like she's checking things off. "You?"

"Just about the same, minus the boyfriend. Single as can be, actually."

Y/N hums. "Any shitty exes this year?"

"Not any official ones," he says, his nose wrinkling as he mentally runs through the year's rolodex of flings. "Can I ask why you're still with this guy if he's such a dick?"

She lets out a humorless laugh before shrugging her shoulders, a look of disarray twisting her features.

"Your guess is as good as mine, stranger."

Harry turns to look at her, pressing his side into the cold brick building. "You don't have to torture yourself with him. If you're unhappy, you have every right to stand up for yourself and leave him behind. Life's too short."

"I know," she says, her eyes fluttering shut again, "I know."

"You deserve to be happy."

She smiles, but there's no happiness behind it.

"You don't know me."

"You think it's a total coincidence we ended up meeting again, exactly one year later to the near hour?" Harry asks, halving the distance between them with a single stride, "This feels like fate."

"This feels like we're both fucked up on New Year's Eve."

"Sure. But alcohol and drugs didn't get us here."

Y/N sighs. When she opens her eyes, he's right in front of her, so close she can see the lengthy wisps of his eyelashes. She swallows tightly, unsure of her next move or his intention. If she really cared about Mike, she would leave Harry here. If she didn't feel the mutual attraction to the man in front of her, she would go back to her friends. If she didn't wonder if he was onto something with this fate thing, she would forget this whole thing ever happened.

But she doesn't care about Mike, and she's attracted to Harry, and he's making her believe in fate.

"It's almost midnight, stranger," Harry breathes, and Y/N glances behind him to see people beginning the countdown from 10. "What do you wanna do about it?"

She knows what he's implying.

She's not drunk enough to view this as a mistake, but she's sober enough to want it.

"Tell me what you want."

"Kiss me," she exhales, her hands shaking at her sides, "Kiss me, please."

There's cheering and yelling and whooping from everyone around them. Cars are honking their horns, fireworks are going off in the distance, people are screaming happy new year. And with all the stimulation surrounding them, all she can focus on is Harry's lips on hers, wet and sloppy and still somehow so perfect. She kisses him back eagerly, teeth clashing annoyingly, hands exploring hips and backs and sides as they lick into each other's mouths, heavy and hot with lust.

She doesn't know how long they've been at it, clawing at one another on a public sidewalk in downtown LA. But she knows that eventually, someone stops to breathe and she takes it as an opportunity to step back. Harry's eyes flicker open, confusion and sadness radiating through the jade green, and she gives him a sorrowed smile in response.

"See you around, stranger."

She's gone before he can stop her.

. . .

New Year's Eve, 2022

"You're fucking joking, right?"

Maybe if Harry had glanced up from his phone two seconds earlier, he could've turned around and avoided this happening. But he's stupid, and he was too busy flipping through his mom's annual Christmas post on Instagram when he hears her voice, and he knows he's in for it.

So he's not entirely surprised when the interaction ends as quickly as it began, just with a tequila soda staining his sweater from her angry drink throwing.

If he's being honest, he gets it. After last New Year's Eve, when they so intelligently decided to eat each other's faces in the middle of LA, gossip blogs and tabloids alike blew up. He felt awful — there were pictures of it everywhere and his fans were desperate to find out who she was. It wasn't a shock to him when they found her social media, job, and, worst of all, the fact that she was in a relationship with someone.

Harry wanted to send flowers, bake her a million apology pies, and grovel on his knees to express how gross he felt about the situation. But instead, he figured it was better for him to stay away. He could only assume that continuing to bother her would make the situation worse, especially considering how cruel the internet could be.

Instead, it just seems like a sad, sick joke that they ended up at the same New Year's Eve dinner party.

When he agreed to come, he was completely unaware that his friend Lea was dating Alice, one of Y/N's oldest friends. They just moved in together a month back and decided to throw a small get together to ring in 2023.

He wishes someone would've warned him that she would be here.

A year ago, he was in a different place. He was in deep with doing drugs and drinking to cope with stress after a busy year of nonstop work. He knows it wasn't an excuse for what he did, and while it took both of them to form that situation, his world was far more complicated than hers. Had it been any other person, it would've been a one-off hookup on New Year's Eve.

With a sigh, his heeled boots carry him to Lea and Alice's kitchen, where he's eager to dry off some of the liquid that's sopping through the material of his sweater. Luckily, it's empty, the rest of the party meandering around the dining and living rooms as they wait for dinner to be served. He mentally curses Sarah and Mitch, who were supposed to accompany him tonight, but bailed last minute because their baby was being fussy.

A shit excuse, if you ask him.

He's forced to rejoin the party when Alice announces it's time to eat. Harry's thankful to be friends with such excellent chefs, who have prepared an array of vegetarian, vegan, and meat dishes for every food restriction imaginable. When he sits down at his place setting, he's admiring the salad in front of him when he feels someone towering over him.

"Alice, can I change my seat?"

Of fucking course.

He looks up to see her standing there, pinching her own name plate between her fingers with a less-than-satisfied expression painted on her features. His eyes follow her target, the brunette with a shag haircut holding Lea's hand, who sends a glare back her way.

"No. Just sit down, Y/N."

Silently, she does, though her actions seem far more petulant and childish than her lack of response. She doesn't exchange any words or throw any more drinks at Harry as she serves herself, though she also doesn't offer to pass any of the plates he's clearly reaching for, either. With a sigh, he allows her to avoid him, all the way through the toast when she refuses to clink her glass with his.

The table settles in a baseline chatter, the sounds of multiple conversations filling Harry's ears as he scoops forkfuls of quinoa and asparagus into his mouth.

"Can you stop chewing so loud?" she hisses at him, just loud enough for only him to hear.

"Can you stop being so rude?" Harry fires back lowly, wiping his mouth with the cloth napkin, "I'm sorry for last year and I apologize for anything that came of it, but it's not fair for you to only blame me."

"My job fired me," she sneers and Harry's eyebrows shoot up, "And what did you get? More album sales?"

"No— no, I didn’t get anything from it, but— I’m so sorry, I had no idea—“

She rolls her eyes, suddenly standing from the table and pushing her chair in. Her heels clack against the wood floor as she steps away from the dining room and in the direction of the outdoor balcony. Immediately, Harry follows her lead, feeling Lea and Alice's eyes on him.

Her back is to him, the doors shut, but he can tell she's exhaling smoke from the cigarette wedged between her fingers. Carefully, he twists the doorknob open and gently closes it behind him, his stomach gurgling with nerves.

"I'm very, very sorry that your job fired you. I didn't know. I wish I did more. I thought about you constantly — I wanted to apologize but I didn't, and that's no fault but my own." he pauses to swallow but she doesn't look at him once. "It's not an explanation, but I was really drunk and high. Last year was... messy. And I should've known better, but I didn't."

She hums, as if in contemplation, as she takes another draw from her cigarette.

"You just... you took so much from me without even knowing it. I know it was both of us, but..."

"I know," Harry says, taking a step closer to her. "I can't express to you how awful I feel."

She shrugs. "It's fine, it's in the past. I just wanted… an apology, or closure or something. I didn’t know you wanted to offer that.” she takes a shaky breath. “I got a new job."

He resists the urge to say that's good, because in actuality, it isn't, and he's the reason why it happened to begin with. Instead, he bites his tongue, pinching his bottom lip between his fingers as she turns to face him.

"Are you still not smoking?"

He smiles gently. "Yes. No drugs either, this year. Maybe by the time we run into each other in 2023, I'll be totally sober."

"You don't seem like the type. Feel like every time I see you, you have a glass of wine or tequila in your hand."

He chuckles.

"To be fair, you've only seen me on New Year's Eve."

"Mm," she nods, stubbing her cigarette out with the heel of her boot, "Isn't that weird? All these years of being my New Year's stranger."

The nickname sets fire to his chest. 12 months later and he forgot that's what they'd started calling one another last year.

"It is weird," he nods, agreeing, "Almost seems like fate."

"Oh, we're not going down that road again," she snorts with a roll of her eyes, and it makes his own eyes crinkle in amusement. "If it was fate, we would've run into each other more. I think we just have mutual friends."

"That might be true. We only live 15 minutes away from one another."

She raises her eyebrows, "Really?"

"Have you moved since 2020?"

She shakes her head.

"Then yes. You live on Maple, I'm on Bleeker."

"That's three blocks over," she says, clearly bemused, "How did we seriously never see each other otherwise?"

Harry shrugs. "I mean, I guess I'm out of the city, like, 9 months of the year."

A silence blankets over them as she presses her elbows against the cool banister on the balcony, looking out to the city. Harry glances at the watch on his wrist. It's a few minutes past 10, just a few hours before the year ends.

"I'm sorry for throwing a drink at you."

"It's okay. I deserved it."

Silence again. And then: "Would you ever want not be my stranger?"

Y/N tilts her head and looks at him with confused eyes.

"I mean," he pauses in an attempt to get his words together through his slightly buzzed brain, "Would you wanna know me outside of New Year's? Start fresh, maybe."

A gentle smile worms its way onto her face. It gives him a glimmer of hope.

"Remember what you said about fate?"

He nods.

"Find me any other day of the year," she says softly, stretching her arm out to pat his hand lightly, "If you do, it's fate."

. . .

2023

Harry's having the most chaotic morning ever.

He slept through his alarm (something that rarely ever happens), got to his pilates class late, and completely forgot he has three early afternoon meetings with his record label. From the gym, he rushed over to the grocery store because he recently got home from tour and there's absolutely no food, and he has about 20 more minutes before his stomach starts growling embarrassingly loud.

He's all but pushing old ladies out of the way with his cart, grabbing boxes of granola bars and bins of fresh fruit with no agenda in mind. Glancing down at his watch, he sees his first meeting begins in a half an hour, which means he'll definitely have to take it in the car over Bluetooth, considering traffic makes it near impossible to get places within a reasonable amount of time.

He's huffy, tired, hungry, and sweaty as he waits in line to check out. He's wearing his sunglasses inside like a douchebag, but he can't be bothered to take them off. He's also trying to be better about not distracting himself with his phone when he's in public places, so he decides to people watch and take stock of those around him: An elderly couple who are struggling to use self check-out, a woman who looks like she may be on one of the housewives shows on TV, and a girl that looks suspiciously similar to his New Year's stranger.

Only, when she turns her head, thanking the cashier with her bag of groceries in her hand as she walks out of the store, it hits him like a massive bag of bricks: It is his New Year's stranger.

Suddenly, nothing else in the world matters — not his cart full of snacks, his meetings, his empty stomach. He's jogging, damn near running to catch up to her, brushing past the morning rush of the supermarket as he tries to grab her attention. It isn't until they're out in the parking lot when he finally does it. Perhaps one of the more embarrassing things he's chosen to do in broad daylight, but he doesn't care, because it's her, and he's not letting her get away this time.

"Hey! Stranger!" he shouts, cupping his hands around his mouth to carry his voice against the parking lot.

Almost immediately, she turns around, her eyes wide as she looks to see who the greeting came from.

And maybe it's just wishful thinking, but Harry doesn't think he's ever seen someone grin so beautifully when her eyes finally meet his.

489 notes · View notes

ashstfu · 2 months

Text

current wishlist: bergamot & geranium bath oil, french butter, vintage dark brown clutch, smoky + dark niche fragrance, handcrafted maple syrup, wooden trinket box, organic cotton pants, a perfect black dress

#personal #wishlist

295 notes · View notes

susoriginals · 14 days

Text

Vintage Ladies Brown Vinyl Clutch & Black Top Handle Bag with Matching Coin Purse top clasp for black bag sticks, Wounded Bird get Both for $8

#vintage purse #vintage bag #vintage bags #vintage clutch #black purse #1950s clutch #1930s purse #1930s black purse #1930s black bag #1930s accessories #1950s purse #1950s clutch bag #susoriginals #vintage #etsy #vintage accessories

0 notes

zegalba · 9 months

Text

my vintage 1930’s black chain mail clutch

#zegalba #mine #chain mail #black #clutch #bag #vintage #1930s #edc #stuff #layout 2

713 notes · View notes

wreckedandpolemic · 3 days

Text

screwed up and brilliant - matty healy

(mdni) in which your whirlwind summer takes a turn you never could have predicted. part two of white and gold. 16185 words.

warnings (here we go): daddy kink (obvs), phone sex, authority kink, roleplay, dom/sub dynamics, mean dom!matty, spanking, semi-public sex, gagging, oral (f receiving), mentions of anal, vague allusions to parental fuckery

The singular thought circling through your head the entire way home is what the fuck. If it weren’t for the soreness in your muscles, the bruises on your thighs and your embarrassing lack of underwear, you’d believe you dreamt the whole thing. You stop the taxi a little ways down your street, trying not to draw attention to yourself returning from your unbelievable night. It’s not like your parents would know exactly where you’ve been, but you’d rather save yourself the embarrassment of getting caught coming home from a hookup.

It turns out you didn’t need to worry, though, your footsteps echoing through an empty house as you let yourself in the back. Checking your phone for the first time since you left the dinner with Matty, critically low battery and a text from your mother flash up at you. We’ve gone out for lunch at the Dove. Love you x, the text informs you, a sense of guilty relief washing over you. There’s few things you love more than your house being empty; your shoulders loose without your mother’s nervous, slightly oppressive energy and your father’s meaningful and disappointed glances. Your steps are light as you waltz up the stairs to your room, flinging open your wardrobe to start getting ready before you realise you don’t know what you should be dressing for.

You tip out your clutch onto the bed, business cards, lipgloss and a forgotten pair of earrings spilling on your sheets as you dig for Matty’s number. Tapping the keyboard idly, you try to think of a good opening message, inspiration striking as you catch sight of a discarded bra on your bedroom floor. You slip into a favourite set, black with gold detailing and leaving very little to the imagination, and pose in your bedroom mirror, texting the photo to Matty.

hi x

trying to get ready but i don’t know what to wear :( where are we going?

Fucking hell

Hi, pretty girl

You could wear that and I’d be a very happy man

yeah i bet you would

answer the question perv

I don’t want to spoil the surprise

if you don’t tell me im changing

Fine

Brat

It’s nice but relaxed

Youre not dressing for dinner its not that hard

rude

pick me up in an hour ;)

You turn back to your wardrobe with a groan — what the fuck does he mean by nice but relaxed? A skirt and a nice top? Heels or no heels? What are you supposed to do with your hair? Leafing through your clothes, you find a green sundress tucked away near the back, a vintage treasure you’d picked up at a market a few years ago and promptly forgotten about. By some stroke of luck, it fits perfectly, the skirt swirling gorgeously around your calves. Your reflection grins back at you as you dust on some makeup, finding a dangling pair of jade earrings to match.

Exactly on cue, your phone rings, flashing up Matty’s contact. “Hi, love. I’m outside — well, as close as I dare, anyway. I’m on a double yellow, actually. Risking my spotless driving record for you.”

You snort. “They’ve gone out, park in the drive. I’ll come to the door.” You pad down the stairs as Matty’s tyres crunch on the gravel outside. Smoothing down your hair nervously, you take a deep breath, the blurry outline of him visible through the stained glass of your front door. You swing the door open as Matty raises his fist to knock, giggling slightly at the way he stands, his hand hovering meaninglessly in midair.

His eyes blow wide as he takes you in, crowding you close in a split-second. “Hi, princess,” he grins, electricity tingling under your skin where he holds you by the waist, his body pressed against yours. “If nobody’s home, I can do this,” he breathes, catching your lips and kissing you deeply, licking into your mouth like a starving man.

After a long moment, you find the strength to push him away. “Matty, the neighbours!” you protest.

“Fine,” Matty says, walking you inside and kicking the door shut behind him. He pulls you back to him, catching your lips in a filthy kiss, a slide of lips and tongue, sticky with desire. Groaning into your mouth, his lips fall to your neck, pressing kisses over the concealed bruises on your neck. You can tell he wants to cover them, mark you up as his own, and you giggle as you push his head back.

“Do we have to go to lunch?” you tease. “They’re not gonna be back for hours.”

Matty pinches your ass through your skirt. “Needy girl. You’ll love the place, I promise.” Slowly, like it pains him, he lets go of you and steps back, eyes widening as he properly takes in the sight of you for the first time. “God, you look gorgeous, princess. You look like summer.” You flush, shifting on your feet and glancing at the floor. “Can’t believe I get to have you. You know everyone who sees you is gonna be fuckin’ jealous of me, gonna want my pretty girl for themselves?” He looks livid at the mere prospect, a muscle jumping in his jaw.

You giggle. “But I’ll be there with you. Why would I want anyone else?” you assure him, stretching up to kiss at the corners of his mouth until he cracks a smile. Your chest aches a little at the sight, a private moment of happiness stretching between you. You can almost see the path along with it, a brief flicker of a life with him dancing in your imagination before you swat it away.

Fuck, you’re in too deep. You’re hurtling towards a vast expanse of something, and you don’t even have the strength to look away. You can only hope the breakneck pace isn’t going to break your heart, too.

“That’s right,” Matty says, after what feels like an eternity. “All mine, yeah? Shall we?”

You nod, not yet trusting yourself to speak, and take his hand, sliding into the passenger seat of his car. The smell of clean leather envelops you, mixed with Matty’s now-familiar cigarettes and cologne smell. Matty’s hand lands on your thigh and traces absent circles as he reverses out of the drive. The streets roll by, rows of houses all merging together, your eyes glazing over while you avoid Matty’s gaze. “So pretty, baby,” he murmurs. “My pretty little passenger princess.”

“Does that mean you’ll drive me anywhere I want?” you tease, finally bringing your gaze back to Matty. The afternoon light casts him in a soft glow, his curls ruffling in the gentle breeze. He taps his fingers absently on the wheel, a sick thrill running through you as you remember feeling them on your skin, thighs clenching needily under his touch. You slide a hand between his legs, smirking at the hiss he lets out when you palm gently over his cock. “Promise I’ll make it worth your while,” you add teasingly, plying him with wide, innocent eyes.

Matty chuckles darkly and returns his other hand to the wheel, your skin impossibly cold in the absence his touch leaves behind. “You gonna get me off right here? In the car with the windows down? Such a naughty girl.” He inclines his head as if to say go on, calling your bluff, and you lower your gaze and return your hand to your lap, subdued. “That’s what I thought. Don’t make promises you can’t keep, princess.”

You shrug. “Wouldn’t want to taint your spotless driving record,” you tease, and he tips back his head and laughs, the sound filling the car and wrapping around you, your head going fuzzy with affection. A few minutes later, Matty puts the car in park, leaning over the centre console to kiss you. His hand comes up to cup your jaw, thumbing lightly over your cheek and smiling against your lips. Ever the gentleman, he comes to the passenger side to let you out, and you take his arm and let him lead you inside.

“Afternoon,” Matty greets the maître d’ with a polite smile. “Healy for two, one thirty?”

“Ah, yes, right this way, sir,” he says, his eyes flickering curiously over you as he leads you through the restaurant.

His gaze lands judgmentally on Matty when he tugs you into him by the waist, and you bristle, deliberately planting a kiss on his cheek as you walk. “Would you like to sit inside or outside?” the maître d’ asks in a tone that suggests he’d rather be anywhere else.

“Can we sit outside, please? It’s such a nice day,” you say, and Matty grins indulgently down at you. He inclines his head at the maître d’, who leads you into the restaurant’s courtyard. Your jaw drops at the oasis you’ve suddenly found yourself in, lush green dotted through with glass tables, quiet chatter undercut with the splash of a dancing water fountain.

“This place is gorgeous,” you say as Matty pulls out your chair for you. “Do you come here a lot?”

He sees right through you, smirking over his menu. “I’ve never brought a girl here,” he tells you, answering the question you’re really asking.

“You keep saying that,” you say thoughtfully. “No bullshitting this time, what makes me so special?”

Matty meets your eyes, holding your gaze deadly serious. “I don’t date a lot, princess,” he tells you. “The girls that I… spend time with…” Your jaw clenches. “They’re not… Well, I need to feel a connection, you know? And I hadn’t felt it in a long time. I was kind of starting to give up hope,” he huffs a quiet laugh, a soft smile crossing his face when he speaks. “And then I met you, and I could just feel it.” He’s gazing adoringly at you, and you suddenly wonder if maybe it’s okay that you’re in too deep, because maybe, just maybe, he’s right there with you.

“Matty, I—”

“Good afternoon!” a bright, falsely cheery voice cuts in. “Are you both ready for drinks?”

Annoyed at the interruption, you purse your lips and address Matty. “I don’t know… What do you think I should get?” you grin, deliberately playing up the affection, leaning towards him and batting your lashes.

“I don’t know, darling. Are you feeling like wine?”

“I can come back,” the waitress says, all pretence at cheer abandoned as she taps her pencil against her notepad impatiently.

Rolling your eyes, you wave a hand at her. “No, stay. Just give me a minute to decide, ‘kay?” You scan the menu and deliberately order the most expensive rosé with a smirk in Matty’s direction. He shrugs, ordering himself a Malbec, and the waitress finally buzzes off.

It feels inappropriate to return to your conversation after the interruption, and you chuckle awkwardly. The breeze ripples in the silence between you, pulling clouds away from the sun so it shines directly into your eyes. Wincing, you shield your face, squinting in a way you’re sure is horrendously unattractive. Matty laughs softly. “Here you go, darling,” he says, pulling his sunglasses off his head and gently resting them on your face. “God, and here I thought you couldn’t get any prettier,” he adds, and you flush, picking at imaginary lint on your dress to avoid his gaze.

“Flatterer,” you scoff, kicking softly at his shin. “Thank you,” you add, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“S’nothing, princess. Keep ‘em, if you want.” Matty shrugs as if they’re inconsequential, and not a two hundred pound accessory. “Smoke?” he offers as you’re still reeling.

You nod, tilting your head quizzically. “Thought you didn’t want me ruining my lungs?” you tease, slipping the cigarette between your lips.

Matty chuckles. “It’s a beautiful day, you’re getting fresh air, your pretty lungs will survive one,” he teases, flicking his lighter under your cigarette as you take a deep drag.

His gaze lingers meaningfully on you as the smoke curls from your mouth and you squirm. “What?” you ask, desire evident in his eyes; he just keeps fucking staring.

He blinks, shaking his head as if to clear it. “Sorry,” he murmurs. “God, you look fucking hot,” he adds with a chuckle. Just as you go to reply, the waitress returns with your drinks. You give a cursory thanks and take a long sip, full flavour swirling in your mouth. “You know, I wouldn’t have put you down as a dry wine kind of girl,” Matty remarks. “Sweet little thing like you.”

You flush the colour of your wine, but meet his gaze in challenge. “You don’t know everything about me.”

“I’d like to,” he says immediately, and you swallow thickly, his ability to disarm you frustratingly constant. He’s so fucking perfect, it’s actually disgusting. As you’re searching for a response, he perks up, tilting his head to tune into the song playing quietly over some unseen speaker. “Oh, man, I haven’t heard this song in forever,” he gasps, a boyish grin spreading across his face. “I was obsessed with this one when I was younger. Used to be on my band’s setlist and everything.”

Your jaw drops. “You were in a band?” you demand. “Were you any good?”

Matty chuckles. “I’d like to think so. S’a shame it didn’t pan out, really. I would’ve made a great rockstar, don’t you think?” he smirks, visions of Matty clad in a leather jacket, sweaty and gorgeous, crooning into a microphone swimming across your vision.

“Fuck, yeah. I’d have hated fighting your hordes of fangirls for your attention, though,” you sigh, and his grin widens as you stroke his ego. “Were you the guitarist?” you ask, memories of his calloused hands ghosting over your skin.

He scoffs, insulted. “I was the frontman, obviously.”

“Obviously,” you repeat, teasingly blowing smoke in his face as you stub out your cigarette. “But you still play?”

“Yeah,” Matty says, smiling wistfully, the expression taking years off him so clearly that you can almost see the ambitious, idealistic boy he must have been. You hope there’s a world where the band worked out for him, even if it means you’d never have met. “S’just a hobby, though,” he shrugs, interrupting your reverie. “You should hear my mate Hann, he’s fucking wicked.”

Taking a sip of your wine, you sigh meaningfully. “I’ve always wanted to learn how to play the guitar.” You lean purposefully on the words, and Matty grins.

“You want me to teach you?”

You smile blithely. “Oh, please. I can sight read sheet music and everything, I’d be such a good student, Professor,” you add, smirking as he stiffens slightly.

“Oh, behave,” he scolds lightly, tugging at his

collar as if he’s sweating at your words.

“Make me,” you giggle, meeting his eyes in challenge.

“You know I will, princess,” he says seriously, your skin prickling hot as he watches you, daring you to break first. You’re saved from having to, though, by the same waitress coming to take your order. Not even having picked up the food menu, you let Matty order for you, trusting his taste.

As it turns out, his taste is impeccable, down to the steak being cooked exactly the way you like. “God, this is fucking delicious,” you exclaim, digging in eagerly. “This place is amazing,” you add, unable to keep the beaming smile off your face. You chat back and forth for a couple of hours, asking about his family and his childhood, cooing at the stories he tells. If anyone were listening, they’d probably be nauseated by your obscene flirting, getting bolder as Matty continues plying you with wine even as he switches to water.

The same waitress returns, the false cheer bright in her tone as she offers you dessert menus. “No, thanks,” you say without taking your eyes off Matty. “We have dessert at home.” You flash your teeth in a grin so there can be no mistaking your meaning.

Matty picks up the bill, and you don’t even pretend to protest. It’s been years since you’ve been on a date you didn’t have to pay for, guys your age from your circles unusually stingy, and you feel guilty expecting broke college boys to pay for you. And it’s only feminist to split the bill with another girl, anyway. “Dessert, yeah?” he smirks as you slide into the passenger seat, and you squirm.

“I promise I’m just as sweet,” you tease. “Take me to yours and I’ll show you exactly how sweet I can be.”

Matty clicks his tongue. “I don’t think so,” he says, and your stomach sinks. “Good girl like you shouldn’t put out on the first date, or didn’t your daddy teach you any better?” he says, a shit-eating grin plastered across his face.

God, he’s a fucking tease. “You didn’t teach me anything like that, Daddy,” you pout. “You can’t get me all needy looking this hot and not let me have you. S’not fair.” You fold your arms, sulking.

“Oh, angel,” he tuts. “Not figured it out, yet? I don’t have to be fair.” And with that, your fate is sealed, Matty dropping you home and leaning over for a chaste kiss that he resists your attempts to deepen. “I’ll see you soon, princess. You know where to find me,” he promises, your eyes not leaving him until his car turns the corner and disappears from view.

You slope inside, disappointed and unsatisfied, plagued with the thought of where you could be right now if Matty had taken you home with him. Your father’s car is in the drive, and you groan to yourself, utterly uninterested in explaining yourself. Of course, you’re expected to anyways. “Where have you been?” your mother demands, and you fold your arms. If she’d asked out of curiosity, genuine interest, it would be different, but she only wants to know so she can approve or disapprove, sneering consternation written across her face.

“Out,” you say shortly, thick tension pulling taut between you.

“With who?” she asks, lips pursed.

“A friend,” you snap. “God, Mum, I went out for lunch, what’s it to you? I’m a grown-ass woman, I shouldn’t have to ask my mummy for permission to leave the house!”

“Language!” she exclaims, and you roll your eyes and push past her, storming up the stairs and slamming the door, finally breathing easy when the lock on your door forms a decisive barrier between you and your parents. Left alone, it doesn’t take long for your thoughts to drift back to Matty and the ache he left between your thighs. You wonder if he’s home yet, if he’ll want to hear your voice, or if it’s too soon.

You war with yourself for a few minutes, but your desire wins out, calling Matty up and laying back against your pillows. “Hello, darling.” He picks up on the second ring. “Missing me already?”

“Mhm,” you murmur, the mere sound of his voice sending a pulse of desire thrumming through you. “Thinkin’ about you. About how you got me all needy.”

He laughs darkly. “God, what am I going to do with you? Naughty girl can’t even keep her hands to herself for an hour. Are you getting wet for me, angel?”

“Yes,” you moan happily, thrilled to get what you want. “I need you.”

“You beg so pretty, baby,” he coos, grunting softly, and you can just picture him, cock half-hard in his palm as you hear the rustle of clothes dropping to the floor. “C’mon, tell Daddy what you want.”

You whimper, dipping your hand under your waistband, slick pooling against your fingertips. “Wish you were touching me,” you moan. “Could’ve brought me home with you. Could’ve bent me over anywhere you wanted, stuffed me full and fucking used me.”

“Such a slut,” Matty murmurs, faint, slick sounds echoing from the other end of the call as he grunts rhythmically. The image of him makes you dizzy, fisting his cock messily, hips thrusting into his hand. You moan quietly, rubbing slow, tight circles into your clit. “Are you touching yourself?” You murmur an affirmative. “Stop.” Your blood runs cold, like you’ve been doused in ice water.

“Wh- What?” you hiss, disbelieving.

“You heard me, darling. I told you, good girls don’t put out on the first date. Daddy’s teachin’ you manners, yeah?”

“That’s not fair, Daddy,” you whine again. “Don’t need you to tell me when I can get off. Managed just fine before you came along,” you add petulantly.

Matty just laughs. “Okay, baby. I’m sure you did. You could hang up this call right now, get yourself off all on your own. But you won’t,” he says, smugly confident. “You know why? Because Daddy knows what’s best for brats like you. And, really, you just wanna be my good, sweet, dumb little girl, don’t you, angel?”

Thick, choking lust envelops you, crushing the air from your lungs as you find yourself whimpering, “Yes, Daddy. Won’t touch anymore,” you say, your mouth moving without your brain’s say-so.

Your body hums with energy, tense with the knowledge you won’t be allowed to release it. “Good girl,” Matty croons, your chest warming at the praise. “Still gotta punish you for bein’ a brat, though,” he adds, through a soft moan. “Don’t want you touchin’ that pretty cunt without my permission, ‘kay?” Your stomach sinks, arousal flaring impossibly in your gut.

“Okay, Daddy. I’ll be good,” you promise, his appreciative moan sending heat spiralling between your legs. You stay on the call until the sound of Matty spilling into his fist fills your ears, leaving you sticky and fucking throbbing with need. It takes you what feels like forever to get your breathing under control enough that your legs will stop shaking to carry you to the shower. You gasp as you plunge into the freezing cold spray, barely enough to quench the fire rolling through your veins. Unable to resist, you text Matty a picture of yourself when you step out, the steam on the mirror teasingly blurring your wet, naked body.

And that is the last time you hear Matty’s voice for an entire fucking week. There always seems to be some obstacle, a friend’s birthday, or a dinner you’re not invited to, or both of you are up to your eyeballs in pointless, mind-numbing work. You’d almost think he was avoiding you, if not for your constant back-and-forth over text and Matty’s incessant pleas for you to visit him at the office. You resist for a while, terrified of being caught and what that would mean for this… thing… that’s blooming between you, still fragile and new.

But it’s driving you fucking crazy, and you miss him, so after a week, you find an excuse; because you’re a good, dutiful daughter, you’re bringing your father lunch to share after he cancelled your meal out yesterday. You zone out after the same five minutes of talking in circles, giving automatic, robotic responses you know he wants to hear. It would be a lie to say you didn’t breathe a sigh of relief when the lift doors ding shut, carrying you up to Matty’s office. You haven’t told him you’re coming, hoping your presence will be a welcome surprise. What you hadn’t counted on, though, was his bleach-blonde secretary, idly tapping on her keyboard and actively standing in your way.

Your heart sinks. She’s pretty, unbelievably so, and barely older than you. If Matty hasn’t already had her, which you doubt, it’s crossed his mind. What if that’s what he’s been doing, all those times he’s complained about leaving the office late? A vision of her spread out on his desk fills your mind, Matty crooning his sweet, filthy words into her ear as her chest heaves. Her boobs are fake, you decide, your gaze flickering to them. It’s not humanly possible for a pair of tits to be that big and perky at the same time. Pushing down the jealousy roiling in your gut, you step up to her desk. Her eyes sweep over you, unimpressed, and she purses her lips.

You push your shoulders back, letting the snotty, spoiled brat who’s never been told no free, a snide grin spreading across your features. It feels fucking good to exercise that facet of your personality again, having tamped down on it since you went to uni — makes it easier to play well with others. Impatiently, you click your fingers in front of the woman’s face. “I’m here to see Mr. Healy,” you say with a saccharine smile. Sure, you could just call him and tell him you’re outside, but this is so much more fun. Especially now that you get to mess with her head, too. Matty’s never fucked her, but she wants him to, you can tell by the way her face falls when she sees you. Good, you think vindictively. Maybe blondes don’t have more fun. Not with him, at least.

“Do you have an appointment?” she asks, voice nasally and grating.

You sigh, like she’s asking you a ridiculous question. “No, but he’ll want to see me, trust me. Tell him… Tell him Angel is here, yeah?” She looks at you, sceptical and detached. “My parents were hippies, what can you do?” you shrug, raising your eyebrows and flicking your fingers patronisingly at her, as if to say go on. Your gazes lock in a battle of wills for a brief moment, but you grin victoriously when she picks up her phone.

“Hello, sir. There’s a girl out here asking to see you.” The way she says girl feels like a slur dripping from her overglossed lips. “Says her name’s Angel? She doesn’t have an appointment, I can send her away, if you like. Won’t be a problem.”

“No, no, send her in. And, for future reference, she’s welcome anytime, okay? No appointment necessary. Actually, I’ll come get her.” Matty’s voice is faint from the other end of the phone, but distinct enough that you can hear his words and the click as he sets the phone down. Seconds later, he emerges from his office, breaking into a wide grin at the sight of you. “Hello, angel,” he grins, kissing your cheek politely but lingering a little longer than appropriate. “Feels like it’s been forever. Come on in, yeah?” He takes you by the waist and leads you to his office, and you throw a smirk over your shoulder at the secretary as you go, a clear message: I win, you lose. “Oh, and Ruby? Nobody in my office for the next hour, alright?” She flushes as red as her name suggests, glaring at you furiously, trying to tell you this isn’t over. You ignore her, though, because you and Matty are finally alone.

“Only an hour?” you giggle. “You’re losing your touch, sir.”

“Oh, sir, hm? That’s new,” he teases as you perch on his desk, drinking in the sight of him with something dangerously close to relief.

You lean forward. “She wants you. So fucking badly,” you remark.

“I know,” he shrugs, loosening his tie with one hand and stroking your bare thigh with the other.

This time, you let the jealousy bubble up to the surface. “Have you ever fucked her?” You know the answer, but you want to hear him say it.

Matty laughs. “Have you ever heard the expression, don’t shit where you eat?” he asks, and you wrinkle your nose and nod. “Well, that goes double for the young, hot blonde the company dangles in front of you like fucking bait, just waiting for you to cross a line.”

You’re starting to see red, his words nothing close to what you wanted to hear. “But you would. If she didn’t work for you.”

He shrugs. “Maybe.” He grips your hips, sliding you closer to him, dislodging stacks of paper and pens from his desk. “If I didn’t have you.” Then, his fingers creep higher, tantalisingly close to where you want them, and you push down the argument you were about to start. Giving up the best sex you’ve ever had isn’t worth it just because you got a little too possessive over someone who isn’t actually yours.

“She’d never be as good as me,” you say bitterly. “I don’t think a man like you would let a little red tape stop you if you actually wanted her. What’s wrong with her, really?”

Matty smirks. “Jealous girl,” he says smugly. “Don’t wanna talk about her when I could have this,” he adds, rubbing slow, teasing circles into your thigh. You whine softly, arching forward into his touch. “You’d be better than her, yeah? You wanna prove it?” You tilt your head quizzically. “Let’s say you’re my secretary, yeah, baby?”

A thrill runs up your spine. “Yes, sir,” you breathe. You slide off the desk to prop yourself in the chair opposite his, unbuttoning your blouse a little and leaning back with a smirk. “You wanted to see me, sir?” you say, playing up your wide, innocent eyes.

“Yes,” Matty says thoughtfully. “I think we need to discuss your behaviour in my office.” You bite your lip to clamp down on your grin, nodding seriously. “Always in those short little skirts, bendin’ over so you can show off those pretty, lace panties. You wear those for me, don’t you, baby?”

You smirk, popping the buttons of your blouse past decency. “You’re wrong, sir.” You spread your legs wide, and he chokes on his inhale. “I’m not wearing any panties.”

Matty groans, sweeping his desk clear, pens and paper scattering across the floor. “Bend over,” he orders sharply. “Now.”

You stand to obey, then pause. “Wait one second,” you say, darting around the desk so you’re face-to-face. “Just realised I haven’t done this yet.” You sling your arms around his neck and press your lips against his, kissing him hungrily and melting at his touch. Desperately, you try not to dissect the relief flooding your body from the point where his hands meet your skin. “Okay,” you say as you pull back, breathless. “M’ready now.”

Bracing your elbows on the desk, you bend over, baring your dripping cunt as Matty shoves your skirt up your thighs. “Spread your legs for me.” You obey, but he just growls and kicks them further apart, a shocked sound pulling free from your throat. “Wider,” he orders. “Not doin’ such a good job of convincing me you’d be so much better than her, you know,” he says, tone almost conversational if his nails weren’t digging into your hips so hard they’ll bruise.

Angry, red-hot jealousy floods your veins, tangling cruelly with the ball of anticipation winding tight in your core. You can’t decide whether to go lax, let Matty have his good girl, or to fight against him for comparing you to her. It doesn’t take long for the brat to win out. “You want her so bad? Call her in, then,”

You can practically hear Matty’s eyebrows raise, the realisation you won’t let him have this so easily setting in. “You want me to, baby?” He clicks his tongue. “I don’t think so. I think you’re jealous of the pretty girl who sits outside my office all day.” He reaches around to pop another button of your blouse. “And you’re scared of what I might be doing with her when you can’t see.” He pulls your shirt out of the waistband of your skirt and tugs it off your shoulders. “So you want her to know exactly what we’re doing in here, so you can lay some kind of claim on me. Am I right?” Your mind spins as you try to think of a smartass response, thoughts jolted free from your head when Matty spanks you harshly. The crack of skin on skin might have been loud enough to be heard from outside, you think with a pulse of satisfaction. “Unless the next words out of your mouth are yes, sir or yes, Daddy, I don’t want to hear it.”

“Yes, Daddy,” you moan out, your cunt throbbing needily. “You’re right. Want her to see how good you fuck me, want her to know she could never make you feel as good as I do,” you say, the admissions stumbling one after another from your lips, unbidden.

“There’s my good girl,” he coos, your stomach clenching at the sound of his belt unbuckling, his zipper falling. “Such a little brat when you’re gagging for my cock, aren’t you, princess?” You nod furiously, whining as he teases your hole with the tips of his fingers. Desperate for friction, you grind back against them, weak, helpless moans tumbling from your lips. “Beg for it.” You choke on a gasp. “Go on, angel. You want my cock so bad? Beg for it.”

You don’t even have time to pretend to have dignity before wanton pleas spill free. “Fuck, Daddy, please! Want your cock so fucking bad, always make me feel so good, s’not the same when I do it myself,” you whine, giving a shuddering gasp when he teases your clit with the tip of his cock. “Please! I’m beggin’ you, Daddy, I’ll be good, I promise.”

Matty chuckles. “Alright, baby, alright,” he murmurs soothingly, lining himself up with your soaked entrance and sliding home so fast you’re gasping. Your knees buckle as you scramble for purchase on the desk, nails scraping against the varnished wood. “Oh, princess, it’s okay, Daddy’s here now,” he soothes, your cunt pulsing desperately around him. “Look at you, bein’ all sweet for me now you’re stuffed full. Such a dumb little slut, aren’t you, baby? Bet you wish you didn’t have to think about anythin’ except my cock.”

“Mhm,” you whine, arching your back as much as you can, your tits pressing against the cool wood of the desk. “M’just your stupid little slut, Daddy, please fuck me,” you beg, grinding back against him.

Matty’s hips slam suddenly against yours, a whining scream tearing from your throat as pleasure spills over in your veins. His hand comes down to cover your mouth, your body going limp against his. “Shh, princess. I’m at work, remember?” The reminder that fucking anyone could come to his door, know exactly what he’s doing to you, sends a thrill up your spine. “Can you be quiet, hm? Or do I need to make you quiet?” Another deep thrust draws a long, low moan from your throat, and he seems to have answered his own question. The fabric of his tie covers your mouth, spit leaking out around it. “There you go, angel. Nice and quiet for me. Bang on the desk if you need me to stop, okay?”

You nod, something that might be yes, Daddy coming out garbled around the gag. Matty fucks into you brutally, your chest heaving as ecstasy burns under your skin. “Good girl,” he coos. “Good, sweet girl. Takin’ my cock so well, princess. Such a pretty toy for your Daddy.”

Matty sets a bruising pace, your tongue pushing against his tie as it holds back your pathetic little noises. Your tits press against the desk, the sharp tip of a pencil digging into your bare stomach. You barely feel it, unconscious of anything but Matty’s skin against yours. “God, you feel so fucking good, princess. Daddy’s girl, aren’t you? Why would I ever want another girl when I’ve ruined you so perfect for me? Look at you, good little girl gagged and bent over my desk like a whore.” You moan, filthy words washing over you, sliding down your throat, sticky, wet pleasure dripping out of you.

You’re dizzy with lust, dazed and drooling, ecstasy spiralling through your bones. You can’t even think, Matty fucking all coherence out of you, every thrust clouding your mind more and more. Garbled moans fall from your lips in a filthy, spit-slick string, Matty’s rhythmic grunts swirling deliciously around your head. The calloused pads of his fingers find your clit, euphoria scorching in your bloodstream at the scrape over your swollen nerves. Your legs feel like jelly, melting hot and sweet under Matty’s touch. “You’re close, aren’t you, baby? Can feel your pretty cunt squeezin’ me so tight, princess. You wanna cum for Daddy?”

A few more rough circles over your clit, one more deep, spearing thrust and you break, wailing around the gag. “Good girl,” Matty croons, fucking you through as stars shatter behind your closed lids. Liquid ecstasy melts your bones, glueing you to the desk. Matty groans your name, cock pulsing as he spills inside you, a sound that’s pure desire falling from his lips. Still inside you, he unties the gag, letting it fall onto the desk as you draw a deep breath. “How are you feeling, angel?”

“So good,” you murmur, voice scratchy from disuse, whining as he pulls out of you. “Always make me feel so good, Daddy,” you add, letting Matty flip you around and set you on the desk, his eyes falling to your glistening core. Cum drips obscenely from you, puddling sticky and wet on his desk, a filthy smirk crossing his face.

“Good girl. So pretty for me, darling.” He tucks himself away, and once his belt is buckled he’s the picture of professionalism while you sit in front of him, sex-rumpled and half-naked and panting. “First girl I’ve ever fucked in here, you know,” he adds, so offhand you’d almost miss it if it it hadn’t made your heart jump into your throat. You can’t make head or fucking tail of him, one minute taunting you with his pretty secretary, the next swearing that you’re special. “M’sorry, darling, I don’t have much in here to clean you up with,” he says with a soft laugh, wiping a tissue through your folds and crooning soothingly when you whimper.

“S’okay. Was worth it,” you say. Your limbs feel tired and heavy, your eyelids drooping as you glance at the time and realise half your allotted hour is gone.

“You tired, sweet girl?” he asks with a soft, fond chuckle.

“Yeah,” you yawn. “You wore me out. Wish we were in bed. That was the best sleep of my life,” you confess, huffing a soft laugh.

You shudder as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch careful and tender. “Soon, princess, I promise. I’m sorry we haven’t seen each other. Missed you,” he says, and the admission melts in your chest, glueing your organs together and squeezing tightly. You sigh, the question on the tip of your tongue dissolving like a sugar pill as your resolve shatters. “How’s your week been, angel? Your friend’s birthday, right?”

You swallow a grimace. Isobel is hardly your friend, in the same way your parents aren’t friends, but you run in the same circles so proximity forced you into something resembling friendship. “Oh, the usual,” you say idly, twirling a curl that’s sprung loose from the gel in his hair around your finger. “Drinks, drugs, boys,” you tease, grinning when his jaw clenches. So he can dish it out but not take it? Interesting.

“Did you talk to any boys, princess?” he asks, eyes glittering dangerously.

Shrugging airily, you kick your legs where they dangle off the desk. “So what if I did?” you challenge. The next words wrench themselves free of your mouth, tasting bitter as they fall. “We’re only fucking, it’s not like you actually own me. If I want to fuck someone else, are you gonna stop me?”

The question hangs thick and acerbic in the air between you and Matty swallows visibly. “No,” he says after a pause. “You can fuck whoever you want, princess. Won’t be as good as me, though, and you know it,” he says, smug and acrid.

The air between you is tense, horribly charged and all wrong, and you can feel tears prickling at the back of your throat. “I should get going,” you say abruptly, getting to your feet. “I’ll see you soon,” you add, not looking back at him as you cross the room.

“Say hi to Ruby on your way out, yeah?” Matty says, something close to a sneer in his voice. As you open the door, though, you paste on a blithe smile and relax your shoulders for Ruby’s benefit.

“Hope it’s not you who has to clean up in there,” you smirk as you pass. “Made a bit of a mess,” you giggle, savouring the way Ruby’s face shifts in colour as she swallows her grimace.

And so you leave Matty’s office more confused about what he wants than when you fucking came in. Something shifts between you after that. Your words don’t change, Matty just as syrupy-sweet as ever, but the difference is palpable, sugared words souring as you digest them. He gets even more possessive while you fuck, more degrading, insisting you’re such a little slut, baby. Whoring yourself out to every fucking boy who looks at you, but you always come runnin’ back to your Daddy, yeah?

But it’s not always angry and mean. Sometimes, it’s slow and so sweet you could swear it’s loving, Matty lavishing you with praise, murmurs of that’s right, such a good girl and Daddy’s girl, so pretty for me soaking into your skin and tying themselves in knots around your brain. Some nights, especially recently, you don’t even fuck when you go to his place. Being there is a comfort, away from catty friends and overbearing parents, somewhere you can just be. Last night, you’d suddenly realised you kind of just weren’t in the mood, apologising and making to leave, and he’d just kissed your temple, pulled you in close and asked what your favourite movie was. And you started to believe. And then you’ll go out for drinks, so much as mention a boy’s name; he’ll toss a jab about some pretty young girl he works with, and you’re right back where you started, tearing each other apart at the seams.

You’re this close to ripping your fucking hair out, sick to death of bottling it all up when you finally decide you need to unload on someone. “I just don’t get him,” you complain, your best friend Thea making sympathetic noises at all the right moments. “One minute it’s all you’re my girl and my pretty baby, the next it’s such a whore, bet you’d let anyone fuck you.”

“But you’re still sleeping at his place?” Thea asks, judgement obvious in her tone.

You groan. “Yes, leave me alone! If you saw the state I’m in after, you’d understand.”

Thea clicks her tongue. “And you haven’t actually fucked anyone else?”

“No,” you admit, defeated. “Don’t know if I could, to be honest.”

“Does he know that? Has he?”

“No and I don’t know. I just don’t know where I fucking stand, and I can’t ask. He’ll think I’m some pathetic little girl who can’t handle it, I know it.”

“You know what you need? You, me, a pair of slutty little dresses, and those fancy cocktails with about twelve kinds of alcohol in them from 102. I’m not taking no for an answer, I’ll see you at ten.”

And, true enough, at eleven you’re clutching a gin bowl for dear life and screeching along to the song thumping through the club’s speakers. “I need a refill, c’mon!” you shout in Thea’s ear, dragging her off to the bar where you can hear slightly better.

Despite the queue, the bartender stops in front of you with a smile. “Love that dress. What can I get for you?” You scan the menu, brow scrunching in a frown, but your words die in your throat as the bartender steps into slightly better light and you take her in properly. She’s a fucking goddess, model-pretty with thick, dark hair and long-lashed brown eyes.

Thea swats your arm and you realise your gaze has drifted down, and you pull it back up to where she’s waiting with a smirk. “You’ve— The menu’s changed. I used to get a Sucker,” you manage to get out around the lump in your throat.

“Alright,” she says cryptically. “And you?”

Thea shrugs. “I’ll have what she’s having, I’m not picky.”

She laughs. “Oh, no. You two do not pick the same poisons. I’ve got this, okay?” Slightly entranced, you watch her work, setting something golden and glittering in front of you. “Sunshine Baby,” she says with a wink. “And for you… Antichrist.”

Thea takes her swirling, dark drink with a delighted grin. “She was into you,” she teases, nudging you with her hip.

“Oh, please, she wanted a tip.” The pair of you find a table, one with a prime view of the DJ booth so you can ogle the hot, blond DJ as he whips the crowd into a frenzied mass of sweating bodies. You keep returning to the same bartender, whose name you learn is Charli, and she keeps plying you with free shots for hot girls and increasingly strong drinks, until you find yourself stumbling onto the dancefloor and losing track of Thea.

Your head feels light, your body loose in a way it hasn’t been in weeks, the alcohol dampening your coherent thoughts. A pair of hands find your waist, and you twist your head back to meet the eyes of their owner. He couldn’t be further from Matty if he tried; your age, for one, tall, willowy and blond. The kind of man you’d usually never have looked twice at. But maybe that’s exactly what you need right now, you think, grinding your hips back against his with a grin. “Can I get your number?” he asks, pulling you free of the dancefloor, sweaty and flushed and smiling freely. After a long moment of consideration, Matty’s warning gaze flashing in your mind, you smirk and give it to him. “Let me take you out. You free Thursday?”

His overconfidence is jarring, and you swallow a frown. “I don’t know,” you tease. “Maybe. Why don’t we get back out there and you can convince me?” You obviously aren’t going to fucking go. Even as drunk as you are, you know that. Whatever this thing with Matty is, it’s serious to you, and you know the pair of you need to untangle it. But, for now, you shove it to the back of your mind, distracting yourself with free shots from a pretty boy, your head spinning wildly by the time you find Thea.

She might even be drunker than you are, stumbling and slurring as you bundle her into a taxi; she lives on the other side of town to you, so it doesn’t make sense to share. “Go, I’ll be fine,” you insist. “There’ll be another one in a minute, okay? Bye! Love you!” you shout as the car pulls away, Thea’s slightly green-tinged face hanging out of the open window. Left alone, you suddenly realise just how drunk you are, your vision blurred as you slump to the curb. When ten minutes pass without a taxi appearing, panic starts to set in; it’s too close to closing time and you’re too drunk, 102 won’t let you back in, and it’ll be the same story anywhere up and down the street. You’re alone in the dark, bile rising in your throat as you do the only thing you can think of and dial Matty.

“Hello?” he says, voice gruff with sleep. “Bit late to be calling, darling. Can’t sleep? Need some help to relax?” he adds, his smirk audible.

Your voice wavers as you speak. “M’sorry, I didn’t know who else to call,” you say, choked with the effort of holding back tears. “I can’t call my parents, I don’t have any fucking friends who’d care, there’s no taxis, I—” you cut yourself off with a hysterical gasp.

Matty shushes you soothingly. “Baby. Baby, breathe. Breathe for me, okay?” You try your best to obey, drawing deep, hiccuping breaths, shuddering harshly on the exhale. “What’s wrong, love?” You stumble your way through an explanation, babbling profuse apologies, mortification creeping up your spine. “Darling, it’s okay. Don’t be sorry. Where are you?”

“102,” you sniffle. “It’s—”

“I know the place. Sit tight, okay? I’m getting in the car now, I’ll be there soon. I’ve got you, promise.” The wave of relief that floods your body when you finally spot Matty’s car pulling to a stop in front of you is near-crippling, and you’d have collapsed when he wraps his arms around you if he wasn’t supporting your weight. “Oh, baby. Sweet girl, it’s okay. I’m here now. I’ve got you,” he repeats soothingly, only pulling away when you stop swaying on your feet. “God, you smell like the floor of a dive bar,” he teases, and you chuckle weakly. “C’mon, angel. Let’s get you in bed, yeah?”

You murmur another apology as you slide into the passenger seat, and he waves it away with a smile. “Hey, my house is the left back there,” you say, the cool night air having snapped you back to yourself a little.

“I know,” Matty says quietly. “I’m not sending you back there alone, darling. Promised I’d take care of you, didn’t I?” he says, his hand on your thigh gently calming instead of teasing.

“Thank you,” you mumble, looking down at your lap as Matty parks the car in his drive.

“Any time, angel. I’m serious. I’m glad you called. Don’t ever want you to think I won’t be here if you’re not okay.” And fuck if that sickening, chaotic mess of feelings doesn’t just bubble right back up to the surface. He leads you into the kitchen, your body curled into his to steady yourself. “I’ll get you something to eat, okay?”

You shake your head. “Mm-mm. You’re already doing too much. And I won’t keep it down, anyway,” you say, pressing a hand to your roiling stomach. “I just need to lie down.” You start to wander into the living room, and Matty grabs your wrist gently.

“You need to eat something, darling. Drink some water, sleep in a bed,” he adds insistently. You let him fuss over you, plying you with a slice of toast and a glass of water, and you tuck yourself into his chest as he carries you up to bed. Dressed in one of his well-worn shirts, his familiar scent fills your lungs, comforting as he tucks himself into bed next to you.

“Thank you,” you repeat. “Can’t say it enough. Didn’t have to do all this, Matty. I would’ve been okay.”

“Don’t want you just okay,” he answers. “Want you feeling good, and safe, and happy. Get some sleep, love, m’here.” You close your eyes obligingly, but your drunken haze lifting has set your thoughts free, spinning like a coin set on its edge that just won’t fall. Your night plays back in sickening detail behind your lids, the memory of the boy’s hands on you bringing bile up your throat. Laying in Matty’s bed without having been thoroughly exhausted first always plays with your sanity, your brain wandering to places you know it shouldn’t go as he sleeps peacefully next to you.

The sun is coming up by the time you give up on sleep, hoping Matty’s rhythmic breathing means he won’t hear you trying to sneak away. No such luck, though. “Where you goin’, sweetheart?” he asks, and you feel a stab of guilt at interrupting his sleep yet again.

“Home. I’ll get out of your hair, now. Thank you again,” you say quietly.

“Baby. Princess. Come here, come back here,” Matty says, and he looks so sweet and earnest, sleep-soft and smiling, that you obey, and you can’t help the happy little sigh that escapes you as he pulls you close.

Shame burns hot through you as you remember the previous night all over again, and you can’t stop yourself from blurting out, “A boy asked me on a date last night.”

Matty’s hand tightens on your hip. “What did you say?” he asks, voice low with warning.

You sigh, steeling yourself to look into his eyes. “What do you want me to have said? you answer, and he blinks, confusion written across his features. “What is this, Matty? Because if this is casual, if you just want a shiny young girl on your arm for a few months, it’s fine by me,” you lie, pushing down the nausea that pools at your words. “But if this is just fun, we should be allowed to see other people — are you seeing other people?” you ask, tension winding between your shoulder blades as you prepare for the answer.

“No,” Matty practically growls. “And I’m not fucking anyone else, either, before you ask. I haven’t in weeks.” He huffs a laugh. “I tried, the day I met you, tried to get you out of my head ‘cause I didn’t think I’d get to have you.” His thumb rubs gentle circles into your hip, his touch comforting as his words soak in, a soothing balm to your nerves. “Didn’t fucking work. Couldn’t stop picturing you instead,” he confesses. “You’re in my head, princess. M’sorry I let my little strop go on so long. Thinkin’ about some other man touching you was driving me crazy. I was bein’ selfish. If you want to see other people, I—”

“I don’t,” you interrupt. “Only want you.”

He breaks out in a wide grin. “Pictured this being a bit more romantic, but,” Matty pinches your hip gently, and you giggle, pressing a soft kiss against his lips. “You’re my girl, yeah? Properly mine.”

“Yeah,” you say, practically glowing as you smile back at him. “As long as you’re mine.”

He threads a hand into your hair, kisses you like breathing is a choice, licking eagerly into your mouth as you melt against him. “What are you gonna say if another boy asks you on a date, princess?”

“I have a boyfriend,” you beam, just using the word making your heart warm. The tangled knot that’s sat in your belly for weeks now blissfully untied, your body feels loose and happy and willing. “I’m gonna have a shower, okay, then I’ve gotta thank you properly, yeah?”

A filthy smirk pulls at Matty’s lips. “I like the sound of that.” You giggle, pressing a kiss to his nose before climbing off him.

“You would,” you tease, padding into the bathroom and running the shower. You luxuriate under the water for several long, glorious minutes, the water pressure melting the last lingering tension between your shoulders. The smell of the club lingers in your hair until you scrub it with Matty’s expensive shampoo, the smell familiar as you work your fingers over your scalp, lingering like you’ll be able to absorb him through your skin. You towel your hair mostly dry, despite your insistence that Matty was committing a cardinal sin by doing the same, and wander back into the bedroom still naked and dripping wet.

Matty chokes on a gasp. “Fuck. Hi, gorgeous.” The praise heats your cheeks and you kneel at the foot of his bed, clasping your hands behind your back.

“Hi, Daddy,” you say sweetly. “I said I’d thank you properly. Gonna show you what a good girl I can be. Best girl you’ll ever have.” Matty smirks, sitting up to give himself a better view. “Can do whatever you want with me. All day long.” He smirks, dirty and sleazy and delicious, and pats the sheets next to him.

“C’mere, princess. Up you get.” You scramble to obey, sighing happily when he tangles his legs with yours and kisses you slow and deep. His hardness presses against your thigh as you make out, his hands wandering to your ass and squeezing. “God, so perfect, darling,” he praises. “Can’t believe you’re all mine.”

“Yours,” you whimper into his mouth, almost deliriously happy. His kiss is almost ferocious, hungry and devouring, desire coiling under your skin. “Daddy, please. Want you so bad,” you murmur.

Matty laughs. “Patience, angel. Thought you were gonna be good?” he says, but it’s light and teasing, without any of the underlying meanness that might have laced his tone a week ago. You relax, tension unspooling in your belly as you put your trust in him. His hands skim over your body, somehow both gentle and working you into a frenzy. A litany of pathetic little whimpers fall from your lips as you squirm under his hands, Matty smirking into the kiss. “Sweet, needy baby,” he croons. “Missed havin’ you all sweet for me. M’sorry I was so mean, princess. Gonna make it up to you, I swear.” His fingers finally find your clit, heat welling between your thighs. It takes a Herculean effort to stay still, not react beyond your involuntary gasp, but the proud little smile on Matty’s face is worth it. “Good girl. Tell Daddy what you want, angel.”

You nod, swallowed in hazy pleasure as he rubs slow circles over your clit. “Want you to fuck me,” you choke out, your throat closing in overwhelming arousal.

Matty rolls on top of you, connecting your lips in a messy kiss. “Of course, baby. You okay like this? Wanna watch your pretty face while I fuck you.”

“Please,” you breathe. Matty doesn’t tease, just rubs gentle circles over your clit as he enters you, moaning softly into your mouth. Your hips roll, desire pooling under your skin as he fucks you slow and deep.

“God, missed havin’ you like this,” he breathes, his head falling into your shoulder. “Oh, darling, I know, I know. Daddy’s here, I’ve got you, okay?” he murmurs as you whimper softly, languid, bone-deep pleasure rolling over you. Matty’s eyes are liquid with affection, his lips curving into an unconscious smile.

His lips find yours again, your tongues sliding together as punched-out gasps fall from your lips in time with his smooth, measured thrusts. It’s immeasurably intense, Matty playing your body like a symphony, and you’re powerless to do anything but whine and writhe. “Thank you s’much, Daddy. Feels so fucking good,” you whimper, locking your legs around his waist. The change in angle is glorious, ecstasy winding through your bloodstream as Matty rubs circles into your clit.

“Good girl,” Matty murmurs, “Such a good girl for Daddy. My girl, my fucking girl. Wish I could keep you all sweet and cockdrunk for me all the fuckin’ time. Fuckin’ wish I could have you as my little kept girl, have this pussy at home waitin’ for me every fuckin’ night,” he groans, the familiar fantasy spiralling through your mind. He murmurs soft, sugary words into your ear, liquid desire melting your brain until you’re sure it must be dripping from your ears, soaking the sheets under your hair. “So, so pretty, darling. Look so gorgeous while I’m fucking you, god.”

You glow at the praise, heat thrumming under your skin as his hips meet yours over and over. You’re practically delirious, lost in thick, syrupy pleasure, the lewd sound of skin meeting filling the room. “Mmh, oh, my God, fuck—” you gasp, pleasure coiling tight in your belly as you dig your nails into his back. “M’gonna cum, Daddy, oh, my God, need it s’bad. Wanna cum, wanna make you cum, shit. Need to feel it, need you to fill me up, make me yours, God, please!”

“Fuck, such a good girl,” Matty gasps, his rhythm faltering as he gets closer. “Can hold on for me, just for a second, yeah? Wanna cum together,” he adds, and you whine, rolling your hips up against him and trembling with the effort of holding your orgasm at bay. He fucks into you with deep, sloppy thrusts, moaning into your mouth and pinching your clit. Garbled moans of fuck and yes and Daddy stumble from your lips, sticky, hot desire dripping from your cunt as you writhe under him. “Fuck, princess, you ready?” Matty gasps against your lips.

“Yeah, m’ready, Daddy, c’mon. Cum in me, fill up this slutty little pussy. M’yours, your good girl, your little cumdump. God, need it s’bad,” you moan, breaking into a whine as Matty spills inside you with a groan. Your orgasm follows a split-second later, moaning against Matty’s mouth with stardust glittering in your veins. Euphoria scorches under your skin, your head floating clear of your body as pleasure floods you, gasping and moaning. “Thank you,” you say dopily, smiling up at him as he pulls out. You widen your legs to watch his cum dripping out of you, pooling obscene and sticky on the mattress.

Matty watches you with a laugh. “Little cumslut,” he says fondly.

“Your little cumslut,” you smirk, stretching out your sore muscles. “When I said anything you want, I meant anything,” you grin. “Want me to be your little kept girl? Cook and clean for you while you look all pretty and important?”

He chuckles. “First of all, I’ve seen what you think passes for a meal, princess. Don’t know how you haven’t poisoned yourself.” You swat his shoulder, laughing. “Second of all, if you can stand right now, I haven’t worked hard enough,” he says, a smirk pulling at his lips.

“You’re lucky I like you cocky,” you tease, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth and testing your weight on your feet as you stand. Matty catches you as you stumble slightly, I told you so written plainly on his face. “Don’t,” you warn, before it can leave his mouth.

“Y’know, I think I like the sound of having a little housewife for the day,” he grins, your stomach tying itself in a knot at the word wife from his lips. “C’mon, sweet girl, I’m sure we can find something for you to occupy yourself with while you’re waitin’ for me to fuck you dumb again, huh?” he teases, your thighs clenching at the words. You bend to reach for your clothes, and he tsks softly. “Didn’t say you could get dressed, did I, angel?”

“No, Daddy. I won’t.” You swallow thickly, following him downstairs, feeling shockingly exposed in the glare of the sunlight pooling from the floor-to-ceiling glass windows. Matty’s cum trickles down your thighs as you hover beside him.

“Make us some tea, would you, darling?” he says, casual like you’re not naked and dripping cum on his pristine kitchen floor. “Shame you haven’t got a little apron, or something. Think I’d go a bit crazy, seein’ you in my kitchen dripping wet in nothing but an apron and a smile. Gotta teach you how to cook someday, if you wanna be my kept girl,” he continues, still maddeningly conversational as your cunt pulses wantonly at his words. “Tea, darling? Or have I got you too dumb for that without even touching you?” he teases.

Almost mechanically, you fill the kettle and flick it on, dropping a teabag into a mug for him and wrinkling your nose unsubtly. “Can I have a coffee? I don’t do tea.”

Matty laughs. “Course, princess. Want you to make yourself at home. Coffee’s just down there.” He points to a cupboard near your feet, stroking over the curve of your ass as you bend over. You don’t realise his game until you scan the contents of the cupboard and find nothing but pots and pans, and his fingers are tracing your messy, sensitive cunt. “Oops, did I say down?” he deadpans, reaching above your head to open another cupboard. “I meant up.”

“Perv,” you tease, retrieving the tin of coffee as the kettle whistles.

“Can’t help it,” he murmurs, dipping his head to kiss softly at your neck and jaw. “Too fucking gorgeous. Can’t believe you’re all mine.”

You giggle, breaking his hold to pour your drinks. “Can’t believe it took us this long. We’re idiots, kind of.”

“A bit,” he chuckles, accepting his tea and taking a sip. “So, what did you say? To that boy?” he asks, and you roll your eyes.

“No, obviously. Felt so guilty taking his number. Deleted it in the car,” you admit, staring into your coffee to avoid his gaze.

“Good girl,” he praises. “Knew nobody could fuck you like me, right? Nobody could treat you as good?”

You flush, setting your drink down and hopping up onto the counter, crossing your legs behind his back as he crowds into your space. “No, Daddy. Only you, I promise.”

Matty cups your jaw. “That’s right, princess. All mine. And I’m yours,” he says, cupping your jaw and connecting your lips in a searing kiss, drinking in the taste of you as you pour your emotions into his mouth. “So perfect, such a perfect girl for me,” he says, sucking a bruise into your skin and working his way down. He presses kisses over your tits, one hand coming up to play with a peaked bud as he wraps his lips around the other. You whine, arching your back and pushing against his attentions, a low buzz of pleasure growing in the back of your skull. “Love these tits so much, baby. So fucking perfect,” he murmurs against your skin, pressing a kiss in the valley of your breasts and tracing his fingers down, your muscles tensing at his touch. Desire whirls in your stomach, your head light and skin loose on your bones. He drops to his knees on the cool tile floor, kissing your knees as he spreads your legs wider, eyes blowing impossibly wider at the sight of your dripping cunt. “God, made such a mess of you, huh, princess? Want Daddy to get you cleaned up?”

“Please,” you gasp, threading a hand in his curls as he kisses the tender skin of your inner thigh. “Daddy, please. Want your mouth,” you whimper, moaning when his lips meet your slick skin. The pressure between your thighs is instant and familiar, mounting as Matty laps at your folds. He pulls off to bite at your thighs, scraping over his own fading bruises, faint pain tangling with pleasure under your overheated skin. His tongue is hungry as it fucks into you, his moans vibrating gloriously through you as you cling to the counter for dear life.

Your hips grind against his face, euphoria spiralling through you, stoking the fire low in your belly. “That’s it, princess. Gonna help Daddy get you off? My pretty little cockdrunk slut, need it all the time, right?” he murmurs, rubbing circles into your clit as he buries his tongue back into you. You can’t fucking think, everything in your brain drowned out by lips, tongue, teeth, Matty.

“Fuck, yes, Daddy, feels s’fucking good,” you whine, burying your hand in his curls and dragging him even closer, his tongue impossibly deep inside you as you clench around the muscle. Heat unspools in your belly, licking under your skin and setting your blood on fire, your hips rocking unbidden against his mouth. You cry out as Matty wraps his lips around your clit, pleasure-pain screaming from your still-sensitive nerves, all his attention focused on your swollen bud. “Oh, my God, oh, my God, oh, my God,” you gasp, pulse jackhammering between your thighs, so fast you’re scared it’ll set off dynamite in your chest.

“Yeah?” Matty smirks up at you, his lips and chin soaked in your arousal. You’re close, embarrassingly so, his tongue sloppy and greedy as he devours your cunt. His quiet moans into your cunt are intensely gratifying, amplifying the ecstasy kicking wildly under your skin. “God, you’re so pretty fallin’ apart like this. Could live between these pretty thighs, princess.” In response, you tighten them around his head, savouring his little gasp as his tongue returns to your cunt, licking over your hole with fervour. Your eyes roll back in your head, swimming dizzily in ecstasy, your cunt throbbing with need.

Your entire body is tense, muscles clenched and expectant as Matty tongue-fucks you within an inch of your life. “M’so close, Daddy, wanna cum,” you whimper, chasing the pleasure that coils tight around your veins, your vision blurring as euphoria chokes you.

Matty circles his fingers over your clit, his callouses scraping deliciously over your tender skin. “Cum for me whenever you’re ready, princess. Wanna feel you fallin’ apart on my tongue. Sweetest fuckin’ girl in the world,” he murmurs, pulling your clit into his mouth and sucking hard, a scream tearing free from your throat. Molten desire pools in your belly, your body humming with energy begging to be released. “Come on, darling, let me hear you. Give me everything you’ve got,” he moans, your cunt dripping on his tongue.

“Oh, fuck, m’cumming, Daddy, fuck! Oh, God, feels s’good, fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whimper, pure pleasure breaking you wide open, your vision whiting out as Matty’s tongue curls deep inside of you. You throb around him, every muscle in your body suddenly jelly, his hands on your thighs the only thing anchoring you to reality. Matty gets to his feet with a smirk, wordlessly prising your jaw open and sliding his wet fingers into your mouth.

You wrap your fingers around his tongue, sucking and licking the taste of you off his skin and moaning softly. “Good girl. You look so fucking gorgeous when you cum, princess.” He catches your lips in a messy kiss, your slick on his tongue as it sweeps your mouth, his hands finding your hips and pulling you close. “You up for a little day out, angel? Wanna show off my pretty girl, make everyone jealous of me.”

You giggle. “I told you. Anything you want. If you want to bend me over and show the entire fucking world who I belong to, I’ll drop my panties right then and there, promise.”

Matty’s jaw clenches, nails digging into your hips. “Don’t want anyone else seeing you like that, ever,” he growls. “C’mon, princess, go and get dressed. Got a busy day planned,” he grins.

“When did you have time to plan a day out?” you scoff, hopping to your feet and heading back up the stairs.

“Wanted to take you out and ask you to be my girlfriend, but that part got wrecked. I still wanna spoil you, baby.” He wraps an arm around your waist and presses a kiss into your hair.

You melt into his touch, leaning into him with a soft, private smile. “You’re too sweet,” you say, pulling away from him to step into your discarded underwear and jeans, turning to rifle through his drawers. After a few moments, you find what you were looking for, a shirt that must be a remnant of some distant, misspent youth; so small it’s almost your size, and it must have been cropped short on him because it barely brushes the hem of your jeans. “Did you actually wear this?” you laugh, turning this way and that as you admire how surprisingly well the shirt flatters you.

Matty laughs. “Told you, I was in a band in my twenties. Made some questionable fashion choices, but I made it work.”

Your eyes light up. “You have to show me. Please, I have got to see what you looked like when you fit into this,” you plead, and he scoffs.

“Nah. Looks better on you, anyway,” he says, sliding a pair of sunglasses over your eyes and kissing your cheek, brushing a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “Have you got a jacket? It’s fucking cold, for June,” he comments, a poor attempt at sounding casual.

It’s not that cold, and he knows damn well you don’t have a jacket. “Hmm, nope.” You pop the ‘p’ obnoxiously. “Guess I’ll have to borrow one of yours,” you say airily, as if that wasn’t his obvious fucking game all along. He slides a leather jacket over your shoulders, well-worn and smelling like him, and your reflection stops you dead. You look fucking hot. You look like a rich man’s scandalously young girlfriend, the graceful lines of him slotting perfectly into the picture. You snap a sweet photo of the two of you as he kisses your temple, and you giggle up at him.

“God, never gonna get over how gorgeous you look wearin’ my clothes, darling,” he murmurs, giving your ass a little smack and hurrying you into the car. His hand is familiar on your thigh as he drives, the warmth of his touch soaking into your skin and fizzing up in your chest. He presses kisses to your cheek at every red light, his gaze adoring every time it lands on you.

You share a lazy, light breakfast, trading kisses over pastries and coffee; yours heaped with cream and sugar and his bitter and black. Matty listens as you explain your friends’ petty little dramas, nodding or frowning at all the right moments but wise enough not to weigh in. He presses you against the car when you leave, digging one hand into your hair and the other into your waist and kissing the sugary-almond taste out of your mouth. “Pretty girl,” he praises, smiling as you flush.

“Sweet boy,” you murmur, kissing his nose as he pulls back and opens the passenger-side door for you. “Such a gentleman,” you giggle, sliding into your seat. You fiddle with the radio, turning to him expectantly when the car stays in park. “Thought you had the whole day planned out?”

“I do,” he grins. “Just waitin’ for you to tell me where you like to shop, angel.”

You smile, rattling off a list that comes as easily as breathing. “Are you gonna take me shopping?” you giggle as the engine purrs to life. “Won’t you get bored?”

“Nah,” he shrugs, reversing out of the car park. “I’ll be like the male lead in a romcom, carrying all your bags and following you like a lost puppy. It’ll be well funny,” he chuckles, and you can’t help but laugh, the image of him laden with shopping he’s paying for and wandering around a boutique looking slightly mystified frankly adorable.

“You’d make a good movie star. Just about pretty enough.” Matty gives an offended scoff and lights a cigarette, sulkily facing away from you as he takes a drag. An old favourite song crackles through the radio and you sing along, uninhibited and happy and maybe even a little in love.

Matty smiles at you indulgently as you start flipping through clothing racks, running your fingers through the fabric and musing which pieces already in your closet they’d pair well with. You pull out a pretty little summer dress, white and lacy with pink florals, and hold it up without looking at the price tag. “What do you think?” you grin, watching him picture you wearing it with a sleazy smile.

“If you want it, it’s yours,” he shrugs. “Go wild, princess.” Not one to look a gift horse, you take him at his word, draping the dress over your arm and fluttering off to flip through the skirts. A scandalously short leather mini catches your eye, and you hold it against your hips thoughtfully.

Matty’s jaw tightens unsubtly. “Oh, don’t be such a boy,” you tease. “I’ll model it for you later,” you add with a grin, and his hands fly to your waist and pull you in.

“Please don’t get me all worked up, sweetheart,” he pleads against your lips. “Don’t wanna have to cut this short because I had to bring you home and take what I need from you, do you?”

Your insides melt into liquid and you flush, heat slick under your skin. “Tempting,” you smirk. “Later tonight?”

His eyes darken, sparkling with allure. “I’m counting the minutes,” he murmurs against your lips, taking an inappropriately greedy handful of your ass and pressing his lips against yours.

Your knees go weak when Matty licks into your mouth, his tongue hedonistic and clever and sure. You indulge yourself in his kiss for a few moments, his body pressing against yours as he threads a hand into your hair. “Mmh, stop trying to distract me,” you say, voice slightly rough with desire. “I’m gonna bleed you dry, darling.”

Matty grins. “Do your worst, angel.”

And you certainly try your fucking hardest, piling his arms high with blouses and dresses and skirts; lipsticks and powders and creams; pumps and heels and sandals. When Matty starts dragging his feet, you take pity on him and pull him into the lingerie section, his jaw going slightly slack as he stares around; he looks vaguely guilty, like he’s been caught somewhere he shouldn’t.

You pluck a delicate, white corset off the rack, holding it up musingly. “How about this? Might be cute with one of those skirts?” Matty swallows thickly, clearly stuck for words that won’t get the pair of you banned from the store and maybe arrested for lewd behaviour.

“I like it.” He clears his throat. “A lot.”

You grin mischievously. “I have an idea, Daddy,” you murmur, the word a delicious taboo as it slips from your lips, scandalously inappropriate on the wide-open shop floor. “Should get yourself some presents, too. Pick some stuff out for me?”

A filthy smirk splits his face, and you shiver, a thrill running up your spine. Matty, it turns out, has extremely discerning tastes, at least when it comes to lingerie. Everything he chooses is carefully considered, holding the lace against your skin to consider the colour, the shape, the cut of the piece and how it’ll sit on your body. You end up heaped with a pile of bras and panties, corsets and teddies, babydoll dresses and chemises, slightly dizzy at the thought of dressing up in them for him.

“Think that’s more than enough to keep us both happy, don’t you, princess?” he grins, leading you to the counter. It takes aeons to get you rung up, and you feel a little faint at the sight of the total; it’s more than five thousand pounds. Matty doesn’t even look fazed, though, kissing you softly and swiping his card like it’s nothing. It’s maybe a little embarrassing, but you feel a faint tingle of arousal at him taking such a massive sum in stride.

You drape yourself across him as he loads your bags into the car, pressing grateful kisses anywhere you can reach. “Thank you, Daddy. Too good to me. Tell me how I can make it up to you.”

Matty smiles, wide and warm and so fucking sweet you can taste the honey dripping from his mouth. “Don’t need to, angel. Just let me spoil you. Like seein’ you happy after I was such a little bitch before. M’sorry, sweet girl.”

You laugh as you slide into the car beside him. “I’ve accepted worse apologies for worse things from far worse men. I think we’re more than even now.” You run your hand over his thigh, cupping his cock with a smirk. “How about I put on a little fashion show for you when we get back? Call it even when I can’t even remember my own name?”

He grins. “You are filthy,” he says delightedly, throwing on a burst of speed that pins you against the seat, suddenly desperate to get the pair of you into a bedroom.

Matty’s mouth is ravenous on yours as soon as you’re alone, dropping the bags to grip your waist hungrily and pull you flush against him. “Mmh, hold on,” you say, breaking away regretfully. “Don’t you wanna see me all dolled up for you, Daddy?”

Groaning, Matty slides his hands down to your waist, spanking you when you bend over to retrieve your bags. A pulse of wanton arousal throbs stickily between your legs, an involuntary moan rumbling from your lips. “Pretty little slut,” he mumbles approvingly. “Wanna get that pretty ass all red for me, god.”

“Yes, Daddy,” you murmur, straightening up and leaning back against him. “Anything you want.” He follows you up the stairs, making himself comfortable on the bed as you slip into the bathroom and change. You primp and preen, experimenting with lip swatches and sparkling eyeshadow, switching out your outfit until you’re satisfied.

Matty is waiting on the bed when you slip back into the room. The sight of him, his legs spread wide and clad only in boxers with one hand lazily palming his cock through the fabric, is almost enough to make you abandon your plans. “D’you like the skirt now, Daddy?” you ask, pulling the waistband down to reveal the scrap of deep-red satin clinging to your waist.

“Mmm, I don’t know if I’m quite convinced yet, princess,” he teases. “Think you should show me what it looks like off.”

A heavy pulse of want wells between your thighs, and you grin. “Let me put on a little show for you, first.” You cue up a carefully-curated playlist, swaying your hips in time with the beat and slowly peeling off your shirt. Matty’s breath catches at the sight of you, groaning low in his throat, the sound going straight to your cunt.

Turning and bending over right on cue, you shake your ass, flashing your panties under the skirt; Matty moans outright. “So gorgeous, princess. Gettin’ me so fucking hard, god,” he groans, and as you turn to face him, you’re treated to the sight of him freeing his cock, slowly pumping it and watching you intently. Your skirt slides to the floor as Matty fucks into his fist, delicious, gasping little moans tumbling from his lips. “Fuck, c’mere, please,” he pleads, gaze fixed on you as you stalk to the edge of the bed.

“Wanna sample the merchandise, huh?” you tease, straddling his lap and grinding down on his cock. Matty’s hands come up to your tits, palming and squeezing greedily as your head falls forward to meet his lips. You let him grope you for a few long, delicious minutes, his hands finding your hips, your waist, your ass and digging in. Then, you hop off his lap, and Matty whines. “I’ve still got more stuff to try on,” you grin, slipping away and changing into a sheer-white babydoll with a matching thong.

Matty chokes on air at the sight of you, and you smile angelically, kneeling at the foot of the bed. “God, gonna drive me crazy, darling. Need to fuck you so bad,” he groans, his cock flushed red and dripping as it disappears into his fist.

You giggle. “M’glad you picked this one, Daddy. D’you wanna know what I thought when I saw it?” He nods, dazed and practically drooling. “I thought, ‘That’s what I wanna wear around the house when I’m bein’ a good little housewife for my Daddy,’” you murmur, and Matty has a physical reaction, shuddering as his eyes go wide, the fantasy playing clear as day on his face.

“Fuck, princess,” he groans. “Angel. Darling. Sweet girl. Come here. Let me fuck you, please,” he begs, hips shifting needily as he pumps his cock.

Draping yourself over his lap, you smile blithely up at him. “You promised to spank me, Daddy,” you pout, and Matty gives a filthy smirk, tracing his fingers over your panties as you shudder and squirm.

“Such a filthy little slut, god,” he murmurs. “This sweet little ass is gonna look so pretty covered in my handprints, baby. Gonna remind you who you belong to every time you sit down, yeah?”

Arousal swirls through your body, wanton need dripping from your neglected cunt. “Belong to you, Daddy. Your girl— ah!” you gasp as Matty’s hand comes down, meeting your ass harshly. A long, low moan pulls from your throat, sweet pain tangling with the burning need under your skin. “Yes, Daddy, fuck. Please, more,” you whimper, face pressed against the sheets as you sink deeper into glorious submission. Three more smacks come in quick succession, the flesh of your ass flaming under his touch.

Matty kneads your tender skin gently, soothing before he delivers another hit, the pain washing over you and coiling into thick, palpable pleasure under your skin. “Love this pretty ass so much, princess,” he praises.

“Want you to fuck me there, one day,” you say dreamily, so lost in desire-slick fantasies that you don’t even process the admission as it falls from your lips. “Wanna be yours. Every single hole,” you murmur, eyes lidded and voice rough with lust. Matty freezes, and you tense. God, was that a weird thing to say? Too early to admit it? Is he gonna think you’re actually a slut now?

A moan of pure, unfiltered lust falls from his mouth and your thighs clench, the fabric of your panties soaked and sticky between your thighs. “Fuck, you can’t say things like that, princess. Gonna make me fuckin’ cum before I’ve even fucked you,” he murmurs, voice low and raked over gravel, thick with lust. His fingers tease over your clit through your panties, and you arch up into his touch, whimpering.

“Then fuck me,” you plead. “Please, Daddy. Want you.” Matty grins, manhandling you until you’re laying on your front, pleasure tense in your belly as he slides your panties to the side.

Your cunt clenches around nothing, gasping and pleading softly as the sheets dig into your cheek. “This okay, angel? Wanna watch the bruises come up on your pretty little ass.”

Lifting your hips, you shake your ass at him, a smirk pulling at your lips. “Gonna think about fucking it, Daddy?” He groans, the sound going straight to your core, slick cunt dripping as you press against him. “S’okay if you do. I have been. When I’m alone, when I want you, fucking myself on my fingers and thinkin’ about you stretching me out there. Would feel so fucking— Ohh,” you break into a moan as Matty enters you with no warning, meeting no resistance from your soaked cunt.

“So fucking wet for me, princess. So fucking filthy, playing with that needy cunt and thinkin’ about me fucking your ass, god,” he groans, dipping his head to kiss between your shoulder blades. A shudder runs through you, the stretch and burn between your thighs familiar, the ache soothing.

Your cunt throbs, thick pulses of arousal hammering in time with your racing heart. “Harder, Daddy, please,” you whine, arching your back. Dizzying lust envelops you, your head hazy and light, practically floating clear of your body. A shocked moan escapes you as Matty spanks you again, pain sinking into pleasure that coils tightly through your insides.

“Don’t be greedy, darling,” he chides. “C’mon, lift your hips a little for Daddy, okay?” Unthinkingly, you obey, letting him puppeteer you, mould you into whatever shape he likes. “Good girl,” he murmurs, sliding a pillow under your hips. You glow at the praise, nails scraping the sheets when he fucks deep into you, the change in angle sending waves of pleasure spilling over you.

“Ngh, Daddy, fuck,” you whimper, your words coming out garbled where your face presses into the sheets. Incoherent moans of please and fuck and I need and Daddy stumble from your lips, your body melting into a pleasure-soaked haze as Matty fucks deep into you.

Your hips meet obscenely, lewd sounds filling the room as your world narrows down to the four walls, aware of nothing but him. “That’s it, princess. Let it all out, let Daddy hear those pretty noises, yeah? Nobody else gets to hear you like this, right?” he coos, pinching your clit and moaning softly as your cunt clenches around him reflexively.

“N-no,” you promise shakily, struggling to pull the words to the forefront of your mind, delirious with pleasure. “Only you, Daddy. Only one who can fuck me like this. So fucking good.” You choke on a gasp, Matty’s hips meeting yours over and over, your vision swimming, your body set adrift in an ocean of sheer ecstasy.

“Such a sweet girl,” Matty murmurs, teasing your clit as you whine powerlessly. Seemingly just for the fun of it, he slaps your ass again, the sweet sting tearing you open. Pleasure rushes through you, cradling your very organs, stoking a fire that chars your bones. “God, I love your pretty ass, darling. Can’t wait to fuck this tight little hole.” His words sink into your skin, wrapping tight around your sore muscles, ecstasy coiling in your veins. With what feels like a monumental effort, you rock your hips up towards him, Matty impossibly deep inside you.

The tip of his cock brushes that perfect spot inside you, sending a bright jolt of pure euphoria fizzing up your spine. A keening wail falls from your lips, a loud, uninhibited sound of undiluted pleasure. “Gettin’ close, angel? Wanna cum for your Daddy?” You nod wildly, indistinct, stifled pleas tumbling from your lips like prayers. “Go on, princess, cum for me. Cum all over my fuckin’ cock, make me cum.” In that same obedient, thoughtless way, you do. You choke and whimper and whine, drool pooling in your mouth and dripping out against the sheets as you moan the only word you know: Daddy. Euphoria burns white-hot under your skin, melting your organs until your body is made of liquid desire, messily strung together by flimsy ligaments. Matty’s touch is the only thing anchoring you to reality, your head still hazy as you drift back to Earth.

Matty’s pace is erratic, frenzied and wild and hot as your cunt pulses with aftershocks. “Cum on me,” you beg. “On my cunt, on my tits, on my face, I don't care. Just wanna see it, wanna feel it, want you to mark me, make me yours,” you plead, and Matty groans. He gives your ass one more swift smack for good measure and flips you over, your bruised skin screaming in protest as it presses into the sheets. Three quick passes of his fist over his cock and he’s cumming, white ropes splashing across your belly and up to your tits, painting your skin in a filthy, lurid display. “Thank you, Daddy,” you murmur as he breathes heavily above you. “Love bein’ your little cumdump.”

His head tips back, a disbelieving laugh bubbling free. “Such a good, sweet, pretty girl with such a filthy mouth, princess. So fuckin’ hot.” You smile proudly, dragging your fingers through his mess and sucking the taste of him off them. Matty’s eyes go wide, his head falling to lap at the skin between your tits, kissing and sucking ravenously at them. He makes his way up and presses his lips to yours, the taste of him smearing between your mouths, the kiss a filthy thing, alive with desire. “You’re beautiful,” he mumbles, hushed like he isn’t even aware of the words, and you flush.

“So are you,” you smile as he falls next to you, gazing adoringly into your eyes as your chests heave.

“We should get cleaned up,” he says with a weak chuckle, and you mumble an affirmative without even pretending to move. “Just a minute, princess, then I’ll get you cleaned up, cook us some dinner, yeah?” he promises, kissing you gently as your eyes flutter closed. Of course, the pair of you wake an hour or so later, dried cum on your belly and crusting into your brand-new lingerie, your thighs uncomfortably wet and sticking. Matty carries you into the bath, takes gentle care of you, the promised meal waiting when you pull yourself out of the now-lukewarm water. Pillar candles glow atop the dining table, the light sparkling off your wine glasses, and your heart melts.

It doesn’t take long for you to fall deeply, irrevocably in love with him; every passing day reveals something new to adore. The words spring to your lips at any and all moments, both opportune and not, and it starts to become a real struggle to swallow them back down. You don’t want to be too much, too soon, and truthfully you’re scared of what his answer will be, and even more so of how you’ll react.

Your private-not-secret relationship is your so-called friends’ favourite topic of discussion, so much so that you’re afraid it’ll get back to your parents before you’re ready for them to know. You try to keep them happy with minor tidbits, throw them off with misdirections (yes, he’s older; no, I won’t tell you by how much; no, my parents don’t know him), but their endless reserves of intrusion are starting to wear you down. Thea is your only confidante, the only one besides Matty himself who knows the ins and outs, and you’re fucking dying for someone new to brag and gush to. So when Matty texts you one day in mid-August, asking if you want to meet his friends, you jump at the chance.

My friends are absolutely desperate to meet you, by the way

Insist they have to meet this girl I won’t shut up about

I’ve been told to tell you Emerald Hill at 10pm on Saturday, and not to take no for an answer

If that tells you what kind of a bunch they are, fair warning

i’d love to :)

come pick me up at 8? then we’ll have time to get presentable before we have to go ;)

By the time Saturday rolls around, you’re practically fizzing with excitement, much to your parents’ suspicion — they’ve been sceptical all summer of how happy you’ve been, curious glances and pursed lips every time you so much as smile at your phone. The excitement has turned to nerves as you’re leaving Matty’s, though, roiling in your gut as you obsess over every detail that could go wrong. Matty wraps comforting arms around your waist from behind, kissing the top of your head and holding you close, the thump of his heartbeat at your back soothing. “Stop worryin’ so much, love. S’gonna be fine, okay?” He gives a boyish little grin as he opens the car for you. “Can’t wait for you to meet my boys. All my favourite people in one place,” he says, and you smile softly, that warm, fizzing affection you don’t want to give a name to creeping up your chest.

Matty lets you choose the music as you drive, shaking his head every time you queue up another glitter-gel-pen pop song. He takes your hand and leads you into the bar, a classy little place tucked into a street corner, his eyes lighting up as he catches sight of whoever you’re here to meet, swallowed into a bear hug by a tall blond when he reaches the table.

“Ah, mate, it’s been too long,” the other man says, pulling back and offering you a hand. “George.”

You look up into his face and your jaw drops. The hot DJ from that fateful night at 102 grins down at you, and your eyes widen as you try to take back your composure. Swallowing your tongue, you smile and give your name, taking a seat as Matty pulls a chair out for you. Just as you’re getting over that shock, you lock eyes with Charli and she smirks back at you.

“Sunshine Baby!” she exclaims. “Fancy seeing you here.”

You laugh, the tension in your shoulders loosening at the merest semblance of familiarity. “How do you remember that?” you laugh disbelievingly.

“Wait, you two know each other?” Matty interrupts.

Charli shrugs. “Sort of. Sunshine over here racked up a three hundred quid tab and tipped me a hundred on top. Don’t forget that in a hurry.”

You cover your face in embarrassment. “That makes me sound like an alcoholic,” you groan. “Your fault, by the way.” You poke Matty’s shoulder affectionately. “I was mad at you, practically fucking bought out the bar about it. Entire place got a free drink off me.”

“I like her,” another member of the group chimes in with a laugh. You look up to meet the eyes of the speaker, and– Jesus. One group of friends shouldn’t be allowed to have this many hot people in it. “Ross,” he says, and you smile politely. The last member of the party introduces himself as Adam, and you greet him with a smile, letting yourself get absorbed into rapid conversation and raucous laughter. “Right,” Ross interrupts. “Matty — you’re picking up the tab,” he declares. “Oh, don’t make that face,” he says as Matty scoffs. “Amount you drink, I’m not paying it on a teacher’s salary.”

You giggle. “Aw, give him a break. These days, I’m spending his money faster than he can make it,” you joke, and Charli cackles. You’re pleasantly tipsy, the alcohol loosening your lips and lifting the weight of anxiety in your chest, conversation flowing between you as easily as the wine in your glass. You cling to Matty as you leave, waving cheerful goodbyes and promising to text Charli to arrange a girls’ night.

“I’m gonna regret introducing you two, aren’t I?” Matty sighs, pulling you in close against the unseasonably cold wind, the warmth of his body soothing.

“No,” you giggle. “I love her. Wish I had friends like yours,” you say, wistful and slightly self-pitying as you slide into the car.

Matty cups your cheek, leaning in across the console to press a tender, loving kiss against your lips. “I’m sorry, baby. But you have me. Always gonna have me, yeah?”

Your heart flutters, those three little words rising in your throat once again. “I guess you’re a pretty good consolation prize,” you tease, pushing down the frightening intimacy of the moment with levity.

“Alright, alright,” he chuckles. “Wanna come back with me? Or do you want me to drop you home?”

You scoff. “Is that even a question?”

The rest of your summer passes quickly, too quickly. You spend more time at Matty’s house than home, more and more of your things finding their place there as time passes. You start going to visit him at work without any other justification, every step nerve-wracking as your father’s presence looms. You have one unbelievably close call when he’s in the lobby as you’re leaving, frantically slamming the door close button in the lift before he can turn and spot you. Ruby stays just as hostile, seething at you and muttering warnings that Matty’ll be bored soon every time you pass her by. You take a petty, savage pleasure in tormenting her, just a little, deliberately pulling Matty in for long, filthy kisses as you open his office door.

By the time you can’t put off going back to uni any longer, there’s barely any point in you being home at all. Naturally, Matty offers to be the one to drive you up, and you seize the opportunity to be alone with him for the last time in however fucking long. Your father is privately relieved not to be the one to have to, you can tell, accepting your explanation that Thea’s just passed her test and she’s offered to drive me. You don’t mind, do you? without question. Shows how much he knows; Thea’s failed her practical six times and counting.

When you arrive, Matty insists that you don’t lift a finger, carrying all of your boxes upstairs and giving you something to ogle in the process. You’re the last one back, your housemates smirking at you and nudging each other at the sight of him, fourteen years your senior with grey in his hair, kissing you filthy and unashamed in plain view. Later, you mouth behind his back, their answering giggles reminding you that you do have good friends, after all.

Matty looks devastatingly gorgeous in the late-autumn sunset, leaning against his car with a cigarette dangling from his lips. You snatch it with a smirk, stretching up to peck his lips and taking a deep drag. His smile melts you into goo, your heart hammering so fast it might smash free of your ribcage. If you don’t say it now, you’ll lose your nerve.

“I love you,” you rush out, muffled against his chest as he holds you, arms cradling your body tight and warm and safe. “You don’t have to say it back, I just… I do, and I want you to know.”

Matty pulls back to look at you, eyes soft with affection and adoration and maybe even something deeper. “Do you know how long I’ve been waitin’ to hear you say that, princess? God, I love you. I love you so fuckin’ much,” he groans, his hands at your waist the only thing keeping you upright as your knees go weak. “Think I might die, havin’ to be without you these next few weeks.” You giggle, giddy with infatuation and devotion and… God, you can just say love, now. “I’ll be back soon, don’t worry. Could never stay away from you.”

#take a shot every time i reference one of my friends' fics in this series #fly high prof matty forever in our hearts #matty healy x reader #matty healy smut #matty healy imagine #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 smut #writing #smut #white and gold

208 notes · View notes

hellavile · 1 year

Text

COZY ☆ sasuke uchiha.

★ 𖥻 synopsis. nurse sasuke misses touching you.

‍ ☆. warnings — 2.1k. pwp. fem!reader, lowercase intended, pleasure!dom, sub reader, eats through the panties, teasing, praise, overstimulation, fingering, slow missionary, soft spoken sasuke ofc, clit spanks, neediness, face grabbing/smacking, pet names [ baby/babe, princess, pretty ] ,black coded. minors aren’t welcomed ! reblogs & comments are appreciated. for you, my pretty @sailewhoremoon

“hey, sweetheart.”

your tall boyfriend with messy hair emerges past the front door to greet you with a lopsided grin. he’s dressed in his usual attire; light blue scrubs while carrying a beige tote bag over his shoulder he sets down by the door after kicking his crocs off, a pile of three books clutched in his long fingers and underarms. he finds you sitting on the couch watching coraline in the darkish living room, holding a tub of ice cream in your hand and waving your spoon as you talked. only dressed in lilac panties and a vintage biker tee that’s like ten years old. feet propped on the coffee table as you enjoyed your movie on your day off.

“you’re home early. how was class?”

“interesting. i have a physiology final friday so the professor let us go early.”

nodding, your eyes drift. “whatcha got there?”

sasuke raises his brows, following the trail of your eyesight to see you looking at the books he had. “oh! i stopped by to get a few more supplies for class and found these novels i wanted us to read this weekend.”

his heavy body walks toward you, steps creaking the floor as he ruffled his black hair and hands you the novels. you set your ice cream aside to observe. sasuke’s crouched in front of you on his knees while he gets comfortable and rests his head on your pudgy stomach. you giggle from the gesture, scanning the grunge book covers on them all.

“dark fantasy this week, huh?”

his hands smooth up and down the outside of your smooth thighs, nodding his head. “you’ve been into that lately. look what you’re watching now. your third time this month, actually.”

you nod frantically, setting the books aside. “only because—okay, listen! i’m trying to analyze all the things i missed. there’s this theory that coraline didn’t actually seal the door.”

“why’s that? didn’t she get rid of the key?”

“yes! but in the end, right. notice when the camera pans out that it shows her parents’ garden. it shows her face, the same way it did in the other side. right. also, the cat fucking disappears through the sign at the end remember? and he could only do that in the other world!”

“mhmm!” sasuke raises his brow and making a sound that he understands, listening to you, barely that is considering he’s not looking at you at all. focused on his hands massaging your thighs and getting closer to your inner thighs, kissing your knee gently.

you frown. “baby, you’re not listening.”

sasuke raises his head, blinking. “i am. finish, babe.”

“okay, so!” the excitement picks back up in your tone, rambling on more. “point is, coraline never left from the other world and she only thinks that she did because she's in a fake copy of her own world somewhere behind the door. also if you notice, every single time she goes into the tunnel, it’s gets longer, which means she’s going deeper . . . ”

“what’s that smell?” sasuke interrupts, face completely unfocused. as much as he loves to hear your rambles and theories about your favorite movie, he’s too entranced by the way your skin smells right now, hiking your shirt to your midsection and seeing the sparkly belly piercing you have, leaning closer to lay his head there.

“ ‘ke,” your frown deepens, wishing he’d pay attention. you were super excited to tell him about this but he wasn’t listening to you. silence shadows you when you notice how much darker his eyes become, sucking in a breath the harder his thumbs knead into the flesh of your inner thighs, sasuke’s hands nearly gripping underneath your knees to hike your legs onto his shoulders. absentmindedly, your body sinks lower for him to accommodate, his face inching closer to your clothed cunt rapidly dampening as he releases a raspy moan.

“what is it? it’s driving me crazy.”

“t-that rihanna perfume i got at the flee market, remember? the red one.”

“fuck,” it’s like your sixth sense kicks in and you could practically tell that his dick just twitched in his pants, his hips pressing against the edge of the couch, close to grinding against it. sasuke loses his mind with the next thing you say. it coming out like you knew exactly what he was thinking right now.

“just put your mouth on it,” it’s soft the way it comes out, perceiving. you sound as if you’ve been waiting for him to do it while also being needy for it. i missed you, is what he says in his head. and you knew that. could read it in his eyes that are low and longing for physical touch. he’s been touching all these bodies but yours, having enough of class and needing you.

an undefeated grin sinks on his face, trying to keep that act up when you knew damn well how feral he’s feeling deep within. sasuke doesn't say a word, pushing your legs further back and craning his neck to drop his thick tongue onto your covered pussy, fabric sliding along his tongue as he licks a rough, long stripe over the entirety of your cunt. a whimper escapes the two of you in sync, his mouth suctioning your hidden clit, saliva soaking your lilac panties and sucking hard. your knees jerk from the feeling, hips grinding on his face. sasuke keeps his eyes on yours, releasing his mouth with a loud, wet pop and spanking your clit three times hard. he avoids where you craved him the most, playing with the thin band, moving it aside to catch a quick lick, dragging it side to side over your folds and sloppily kissing at your inner thighs.

“ ‘ke, stop teasing and eat it,” you whine, taking your hands to hold your own legs up, biting your lip, eyes glossy.

“i didn’t hear a please. you know i don’t like that.”

you hated giving him the satisfaction of begging sometimes because he tends to take advantage of it. he knows how badly you loved getting your pussy ate, and its embarrassing really. but he couldn't blame you when he did it so good. you’d cry for it, get mad if he doesn't do it or initiate it, didn’t offer after your period ends, when you’re sad or having a bad day. he will purposely make you beg for it even if he planned on doing it all along.

you take too long, and he’s extremely impatient. sasuke slips your panties to the side and slides his two middle fingers deep into your creamy cunt, white substance coating his slim fingers, hearing it squelch as he gently curls them upward to hit that spot. he raises his brow, still waiting. your thighs shake when he smacks your outer thigh, the impact stinging. your back arches. “c’mon, girl.”

“please, please, pleaseee baby.”

“i can eat it, princess?” sasuke smirks like an asshole.

fuck you. “yessss, yes, please!”

sasuke slurps at your clit greedily, destined to make you cum so he can drink it all. your pupils shift white once they roll back, clawing at your own thighs and prolonging his name in a content moan. its really wet, the sound so loud it bounces off the wall even with the movie playing on low in the background. sasuke thrusts his fingers slowly in and out, kissing at your pussy, sucking hard on your clit and pulling it with his lips, even uses the point of his tongue to flick at the throbbing bud. you can’t speak when you cum, your boyfriend moaning into your sweet pussy the minute you tug at his silky hair and hang your mouth wide open, squealing and closing your legs around his head.

“good girl,” sasuke’s voice is deep and primal. he swallows down his gift, chin doused and lips shiny. he continues to thrust his fingers, your walls clenching tight on them as he hovers over you to stick his tongue in your mouth and kiss you. your eyes falter closed in bliss as you suck on his tongue and kiss back, rocking against his fingers. “taste that? that’s all you. ain’t it good?”

“mm hmm,” your attentive hands reach forward to tug down his scrubs, dick springing free and slapping hard onto his abdomen. sasuke’s stomach rolls inwardly from the freedom, thick vein pulsating on the right side of his cock leading up to the bubblegum pink tip, wanting more than anything to suck on it like a lollipop. the way he’s looking though? it’s not happening. maybe later in the shower. he straightens his back to lift off his top, chest bare to you now, his pretty vanilla skin gleaming from the low lighting coming from the kitchen and television.

“look at her wantin’ more,” sasuke hums, thumb circling your sensitive clit and you jolt. sasuke bends his neck to spit between your legs, saliva hitting your mound and streaming down before he gathers it with two fingers and plunges them back into you, pushing your left leg back and fucking them fairly quick into you. he has his right knee indented into the sofa, messy black hair hanging around his clenched jaw, his brother’s necklace dangling. “nng you’re so much tighter, baby.”

“ ‘ke,” again, his name is the only thing you can conjure. sasuke locks his lips with yours roughly, whimpering in his mouth with his dick jumping against your thigh. “g’na cummm!”

“lemme have it,” its sort of a struggle to pump his fingers because of how tight you grip on it, despite it, he applies more force. he’d be a fool to ruin your orgasm. he loved pulling that out of you more than anything. gasping loud, you push at his exposed chest and trap his forearm with your spasming legs, screaming out the faster he fucks you. “mmm, thank you pretty.”

his next moves are haste, picking you off the sofa just to lay you flatly on your back before situating himself between, heavy cock pulsating and slapping the head on your clit a few times before he gently eases his way into your gaping hole. so fucking slick it drives him wild. still coming down from your previous high, your eyes are lazy as you hold your arms to your chest and watch him with fascination. the pretty man hovering above you hissing the deeper he sinks into your tight pussy, groaning loudly when he’s reached his peak. he’s become immobile like you have, the two of you needing nothing else to say, just wanting to relish the pleasure. sasuke’s hips roll back before he pistons forward, hips interacting, keeping his pace slow and hard to feel it all. it’s been a while since he’s taken his time with you. always rushing sex nowadays since he’s busy with classes and you’re constantly working. he missed you so damn much it was painful sometimes.

he has both your knees pressed to your chest, the two of you looking where you met, his dick coated in your juices and moving sensually into you. your cries are music to his ears, leaning forward to whimper and moan into your mouth. he fucks you a little faster, choking up from your third orgasm already building up. it’s insane how many times he can make you cum in one session. and you knew this wasn’t going to be the last today. he’s free for the next two days, and so are you since you requested off for a mental day. what’s mental is that you’re going to get your brains fucked out by your horny boyfriend all weekend.

“fuck, cum with me, please baby,” sasuke pants, fucking you harder the closer he gets. he interlocks one of your hands together and pins it above you head while your free one strokes at your clit. pain and pleasure mixing into one. “so fuckin’ good to me, baby. love you.”

“i love you too, ‘ke,” tears well in your eyes, holding eye contact as your mouths breathe into each others, reaching your climax at the same time. wrapping your legs around his waist, you hold him close to you as a note for him not to pull out, sasuke cussing like a sailor as he cums inside, filling you with a generous amount of cum. your orgasm shocks you, balling up into his chest and grinding on his dick. sasuke heaves, roughly grabbing your face to kiss you hard, gently smacking the side of your face with a proud grin. it’s a thank you. he does it every time he cums and it’s the best reward. your lips are pouty like a goldfish since he’s squeezing your cheek, pecking your lips once more and staying inside of you as he lays his head on your chest. both of you smiling and watching the end credits of coraline while you play with his hair, chain cold on your collarbone.

#uchiha sasuke #sasuke smut #sasuke x reader #sasuke x black reader #sasuke x you #sasuke x y/n #sasuke uchiha x you #sasuke uchiha x reader #naruto smut #naruto x reader #naruto x black reader #sasuke uchiha #sasuke #☆. hellavile.

3K notes · View notes

corruptedcaps · 4 months

Text

Contraband

"Miss Black, how many times have you been told you that running shoes are not part of our uniform?" said the kind but stern Principal Kent, catching Kelly between classes. "I know, sir, but my shoes were taken by the other girls, Samantha and her gang. I only have my trainers left."

Kent looked at her, still stern, but a flicker of empathy registered in his face. "One of these days, Kelly, you're going to have to stand up to them. You need to be more aggressive. For now, here take this key, it will get you into the confiscation room, there is surely to be a pair of shoes in there you can borrow. Quickly now!" he said hoping no one would see his obvious favouritism to Kelly.

Kelly nodded, feeling the weight of isolation as she walked down the corridor. Bullied and friendless, the boarding school seemed like a never-ending maze of hostility. As she entered the contraband room, she wondered if there would ever be a day when she could break free from the clutches of Samantha and her gang.

Kelly scoured the room, scanning through a sea of forgotten and illicit items. She passed a whole host of things that ranged from cigarettes all the way to dildos. There seemed to be items from every decade in there.

Finally her eyes fell upon the box marked 'shoes.' Inside, an array of styles and vintage greeted her, but one pair seized her attention immediately. Sky high white stilettos, barely acceptable within the dress code, beckoned her. These were shoes she would have never considered before; too sexy, too trashy, she thought, for her plain, boring body.

And yet something about them was nearly daring her to try them, to step outside her comfort zone. Hesitant, Kelly pulled the stilettos from the box. As she ran her fingers along the shiny material them, a rebellious spark ignited within her. Perhaps it was time for a change, a departure from the identity imposed on her by Samantha and her gang. She tried them on, the unfamiliar sensation of height and confidence taking hold.

She unsteadily walked a few feet to a nearby lengthwise mirror and took in her reflection. The shoes looked ridiculous on her, her messy hair, glasses and oversized clothes clashed immediately with the shoes. She cursed to herself. For even thinking they might look good on her.

However as she reached down to take them off the stilettos suddenly seemed to tighten around her feet of their own accord. A strange sensation washed over her, making her lightheaded. Dark purple wisps wafted off the shoes, swirling up her legs and around her body. The room crackled with an energy both electric and foreboding.

Kelly gasped as the purple cloud shot into her mouth and slithered down her throat making her cough. Despite the discomfort she felt a most pleasurable sensation start in her stomach and radiate outwards. She felt her very bones creak and her skin stretch and go taut in equally measure. Her body somehow changing.

The shoes, now snug against her feet, seemed to sculpt her legs, elongating them with an ethereal elegance. Her posture shifted, adopting a more defiant stance that hinted at newfound confidence. The curves of her silhouette became more pronounced, as if the magic sought to highlight a beauty that had long been overlooked.

“Ohhh god what’s happening to me? I feel so… nasty.” She groaned as the changes continued.

Her clothing, seemingly touched by the same mystical forces, clung to her transformed figure with a provocative allure. The ordinary uniform tightened around her increasingly shrinking stomach. Her shirt tied up at the middle to expose her new flat midriff and to act as a bra for her now bigger tits. The once modest knee length skirt shortened to a length that would expose her privates with the most subtle of breezes.

The very thought would have made Kelly blush previously but was now turning her on. So much so that she was delighted when she felt her underwear dissolve away leaving her pussy bare.

“Oh fuck yes it’ll be so much easier to fuck studs like this. Oh god what am I saying? That’s not the kind of girl I am! Mmmm but I could be.” She groaned in pleasure.

Her messy brunette locks underwent a startling change, gradually transitioning to a lustrous and thick mane, gaining several inches in height as if was made of hairspray.

Simultaneously, fake nails snapped on her fingers. As if guided by an unseen hand, they took on a polished white sheen to match her new shoes. Finally her skin took on a bronzed fake tan look from head to toe and thick sexy makeup covered her face.

As Kelly eyed herself in the mirror, a personality crystallized in her mind. The girl staring back at her wasn’t some delicate well spoken wallflower who bent to the orders of anyone, not least Samantha and her clique of stuck up princesses.

No, Kelly was now a girl who did whatever she wanted and fuck the consequences. She was a trashy bitch who lived for life’s pleasure’s. A wicked grin crept across her face. "Fuck, look at me now, I’m proper changed, innit? No more being the soft target for those posh sluts. I feel so nasty and mean, I fuckin’ love it!"

She played with her thick hair, and started chewing on gum that had somehow appeared in her mouth. "Gone from plain Jane to a fuckin' babe. Never thought I'd look so good as slutty chav."

Her eyes glinted with a rebellious fire. "Those slag bullies won't know what to do with me. I'm not a fuckin’ pushover anymore.” She laughed to herself as she picked up the box of cigarettes she had seen earlier and sparked up on.

She breathed in deep its smoke, letting it coat her lungs. She blew a perfect ring as if she had done it a thousand times. She ran her fingers along the shelves of the room pocketing or wearing anything that caught her eye. She quickly lost track of time and ignored the bell ring signalling the end of class.

She was just eying a huge dildo when Principal Kent, concerned by Kelly's prolonged absence, entered the room with a purpose. However, as his eyes fell upon the transformed figure before him, shock and disbelief painted his features. "Kelly, what in the world..."

She looked at him first like the authorial figure he was and was about to scowl but then something started to grow inside of her, a sudden lust. Kelly had always been fond of Kent and that fondness had transformed into a newfound need to fuck him. She couldn’t help but salivate at the thought of tasting his dick and making him cum inside her. She stubbed her cigarette on the ground with her new heels and walked over to him like a panther.

She walked past his open mouthed stance and closed the door. With a turn of the lock she sealed the two of them in. She put her hands behind her butt and arched her back at him, pushing out her cleavage. Kent gulped.

“Ohhhh sir, I’m so glad you came, I got locked in here by mistake. You’re my knight in shining armour.” She said with a dangerous smile as she slowly approached him. He backed away into a shelf, pinned in by the new Kelly.

“Miss Black, I think we need to find you some help, why don’t we…” He began nervously.

Her wicked grin cut through his words as she stood confidently in his path. "Principal Kent, no need for help. I’ve learned the one thing you’ve always said I needed to be. Aggressive. And call me Kelly, babe."

In a bold move, Kelly seized Principal Kent by the head, pulling him into a deep and unexpected kiss. As their lips met, the magic within her stomach rose up and out her mouth entering Kent’s body. Kelly pulled back from their kiss and found Kent to be in a sort of trance.

“Well isn’t this a surprise?” Kelly said waving her hand in front of his face to no reaction while tasting the lingering magic on her lips. Smirking to herself she undid his belt buckle and let his pants slide to the floor. Pulling his underwear down she was dismayed to find a fairly insignificant penis staring back at her.

“Let’s see what my slutty magic mouth can do about this.” She grinned as she wrapped her pink lips around his cock and began sucking. To her delight she felt it grow larger in her mouth. However Kent seemed to break from his trance by her slurping but rather than stop her he grabbed her hair and guided his cock in and out of her mouth.

“Oh fuck yes you dirty slag, suck my big cock. Oh what am I saying? What are you doing to me.” He groaned in confusion but finding it hard to stop himself. Kelly looked up at him with satisfied dirty look on her face as she watched the magic start to spiral out from her mouth, down his shaft and infect the rest of his body.

His body began to bulk outwards along his arms and legs, becoming strong and muscular. His flabby middle aged stomach sucked in and became a toned six pack. He aged backwards, going from his 40 something self into an 18 year old hunk with a stylish haircut and chiselled jaw line. His muted suit turned into one of the school uniforms that barely contained his new bulging form.

He couldn’t help but look at himself in the mirror as Kelly continued to suck him off. He flexed his muscles and practiced a scowl. Like Kelly before him he found a new persona emerge the more he looked at his reflection. One that was mean, cruel and loved to bully. The only thing he loved more was his bitchy girlfriend Kelly.

He felt his huge dick start to spasm as he let the new personality take over, he was about to cum but Kelly had other plans. Pulling his dick out of her mouth she started to stroke it slowly as she stood up and slipped her wet pussy onto it. They both moaned in unison as she did.

“Ohhhh fuck babe I don’t know what you did to me but I fucking love it. I feel like such a bastard now.” He grinned.

“Stop bloody talking will ya and fuck me!” She said with a cheeky grin as he lifted her off the ground and pushed her against a wall. She groaned in ecstasy Ashe rammed his member into her wanting pussy again and again.

“Cum in me you fucking bastard!” She groaned loudly that she was sure most of school would hear. Kent obliged by thrusting long and hard into her. The magic that she had imparted on him was now re-entering her body. With each drop of cum coming in Kent started to revert back to his older form.

“No! No! What’s happening to me?” Kent cried out as he slowly dropped Kelly to the ground unable to hold her with his weaker arms. Kelly smirked to herself as she watched Kent turn completely back to his normal self.

“Sorry babe, but the magic likes to come back to me, I can’t help it can I? But tell you what, you be a good little principal and let me do whatever the fuck I want and we can make this a daily thing. Deal?” She said as she toyed with her hair.

Kent looked at her tight body and her sexy smile and knew he would do anything she asked. Anything to feel strong again and anything to feel her warm pussy again. He nodded. With that Kelly disappeared into the shelves to retrieve something.

“Good. First things first, the uniform code doesn’t apply to me anymore got it? I can wear whatever the fuck I want from know on got it?” She called out from deep in the room.

“Oh I don’t think I can do that, it will be obvious favouritism….” He started but trailed off as Kelly emerged dressed in a new outfit. He gulped and felt his dick get instantly hard.

“Don’t worry baby, I’m going to be your new student liaison, or something proper like that, so I’ll need to stand out from the rest of school or make up whatever excuse you want I don’t fucking care. Either way we’re going to be spending a lot more time together and you’re going to help me rule this dump. Aren’t you babe?” She said more as a statement of fact than a request.

She didn’t need to sink to her knees and suck him off again but she had gotten so horny thinking about what a mean bitchy queen chav she was going to be that she wanted big strong Kent back and Kent wasn’t going to argue.

THE END

#f2f #corruption #bitchification #magic #evil bitch #evil couple #corrupted couple #corrupted shoes #corrupted clothing

265 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

eeveeninng

Its Always Sunny in Unova

transmascwillbyers

Prolific Writer, Less Prolific Shitposter

sagee16

Sage

lovingvalentines

Requests are open!

lenkalal

My dog bog