I just misread a prof!matty phone sex ask as postmatty phone sex and got all excited! So, uh, yeah?
you really should be asleep by now, it’s creeping past midnight, but the empty side of your bed has been impossible to ignore these past three weeks. silly, maybe even a little cheesy, but you’ve grown used to matty beside you. honestly, there’s nothing more comforting than having your hot as fuck, usually naked boyfriend hogging your mattress. and never in a million years did you think you’d miss it this much. but here you are, not even pretending to sleep, too busy scrolling through photos from the past few months you've been with him.
matty’s been gone on a four week tour, and when you first found out, you didn’t think much of it. that’s ages away. you figured it would be fine, you like your space. and you told yourself you’d use the time to do things you might not with him around (cough developing risqué photos for him cough). totally fiiiiine. no big deal. after all, you’ve done the whole “boyfriend away on tour” thing before.
except that was with your lame ass ex.
not with your current boyfriend. not with the curly haired mailman AND musician you’re completely, stupidly in love with. not with the man who somehow lives in every crevice of your mind, body and soul. the one whose name suddenly lights up your screen.
matty: you awake, sweet?
there's no fucking point in even pretending to wait to answer.
you: yeah, just in bed. where are you right now? matty: in the van. almost to the hotel matty: missing you xxxx
every single day he tells you that. and still every single time your heart beats double time when he admits you aren't the only lonely one.
you: miss you too baby :( you: how was the show? matty: pretty great tbh. loud. sweaty. ross hooked up with someone. good night overall matty: not the same without you tho matty: can't fucking wait to kiss your pretty face again <3
that one make your press your phone against your chest, squeezing your eyes shut so tight trying to picture the way he’ll look at you when he finally walks back through your door.
matty: cannot stop thinking about you tonight matty: not that i ever can, really matty: but you know what i mean matty: need you xxxx
is it silly that you're smiling so big just from reading his texts on your phone? probably. but that doesn't stop you from snapping a photo of yourself and pressing 'send' just seconds after.
matty: fuck you're pretty matty: the most beautiful girl
matty: MY beautiful girl
you’re still typing a response when the three dots pop up again.
matty: and you're wearing my shirt matty: absolutely not fair </3 matty: wish i could take it off you :(
okay... maybe that wasn’t your original intention, but who are you to ignore sexy texts from him? so you send another photo. this time your legs stretched across the sheets, a hint of panties peeking from beneath his t-shirt.
matty: not great timing to get a boner, is it?
he follows it with a dark, grainy shot of his crossed legs which you only assume is to hide the effect you have on him. to which you respond by sending a photo of your fingers slipping just under the hem of your cotton underwear. the word 'delivered' switches to 'read' and you bite your lip, eagerly waiting for his reply. it’s new territory for you, sending something like this, because since that first night back in march you’ve barely spent a moment apart so there hasn't been a need for it yet.
but two minutes pass. then three. then four. by ten you’re staring at the screen with no new messages and your chest starts to tighten. what if one of the other guys saw? or worse... what if you’d crossed some invisible line and gone too far?
except this is matty.
the same chronically horny for you man who’s currently driving hann insane, begging him not to go sixty in an eighty and whining about needing a smoke. which, to be fair, he does need; his nicotine tolerance has been stretched thin these past weeks. but mostly, it’s just an excuse. an excuse to get out, breathe and finally have you to himself, even if it’s only in his head.
so when the van finally pulls to a stop–thank fucking god–he’s out the door in record time, shouting a quick be right back over his shoulder as he cuts across the lot, heading toward the shadowy stretch of what looks like an empty park. fingers unlocking his phone and blindly tapping the sequence he's now memorized by heart.
“hi, matty,” and he finally exhales when your voice melts into his ear, sweet as ever.
"this is so much better," he can't help but grin when he hears you laugh, "hello, my darling. how are you?"
“i’m okay. good. just… miss you.”
“i miss you more,” your boyfriend admits without hesitation. “walking through some shitty park in the middle of–” he names the city, "and still all i can think about is you. i love you, sweet. y'know that, right?"
“hmmm… you’ve maybe mentioned it once or twice before…”
“you’re such a fucking jerk,” he mutters but the smile in his tone gives him away. “been dying to hear your voice, though.”
“well, i’m here now. what do you want to hear?”
“an i love you would be pretty nice right about now.”
and who are you to deprive him of that when it’s the one thing you want to say the most? the one phrase you always want to scream at the top of your lungs since the first time you confessed it out loud.
“i love you, matty.” you drop back into your pillow and stare at the hollow of the bed where he should be. “so fucking much.”
"that's my good girl." you bite the side of your cheek to stop yourself from squealing because, christ, you do adore him and he makes you impossibly crazy.
"but you're actually evil."
um... okay... you're not entirely sure how to respond to that one.
“you don’t just send me a photo of you nearly touching yourself while i’m in the middle of a fucking road trip and not expect me not to want more details.”
right. you did that and now you have to pay the consequences. and of course, right on cue, you hear him take a long drag of a cigarette, the soft crackle through the line absolutely not helping your situation.
“so… did you do it?”
“matty…”
“yes or no? it’s an easy question.”
“no.”
“liar.”
“i didn’t! you didn’t say anything back, so i… i thought i made you upset or something, that i perhaps–”
“darling,” he interrupts, “what made me upset was being in a fucking van with my three annoying friends, a hardon and not being able to do anything about it.”
you cannot help but laugh at that, pressing your face into the pillow to muffle the sound. “poor you.”
an overdramatic groan fills the line which only makes you grin harder. you chew on your bottom lip, hesitating just long enough for him to notice before you murmur, “need a hand with that?”
“preferably yours, yes,” he fires back without missing a beat. “i’ll take it anytime. think you know exactly what i like by now.”
instantly, your brain supplies an image of your fingers wrapped around him: firm yet not too tight, the way he always moans when you’ve got him right where you want him. the way his lashes flutter when you twist your wrist just a tad.
you shift on top of your sheets, thighs pressing together, because suddenly there’s a different kind of tension buzzing between your legs.
“matty…”
your boyfriend hums on the other side, sending a thrill down every vertebrate of your spine. “what’s the matter, sweet? getting worked up on me already?”
the next thirty second silence is the only confirmation he needs. he chuckles, smug and proud in your ear and you can practically see the way his mouth quirks up. “knew it.”
“don’t sound so proud of yourself,” yet your fingers are already drifting down your torso, brushing over the hem of your cotton underwear.
“can’t help it, my love. i’ve got you squirming miles away just from my voice. makes a lonely man feel powerful.” he pauses, taking another drag, exhaling it out slow. you hear the faint scratch of his lighter snapping shut. “so tell me... what you doing right now?”
you hesitate. “not–nothing.”
“liar, liar” he singsongs.
“i’m not...”
“sweet, i can hear it. your voice goes all jittery when you’re flustered. you’ve got that shirt riding up, haven’t you? maybe your hand slipping a little lower?”
your breath catches and that’s all it takes for him to laugh again, a bit softer this time though. “fuck, you’re killing me. wish i could see you right now.”
you squeeze your eyes shut, fighting the urge to just give in, to let your hand slide down the way he’s painting it in your head. “wish you were here.”
“soon, darling. not soon enough, but soon.” he sighs with so much want tangled up in his voice that makes you clench. “til then… let me pretend, yeah? tell me what you’d let me do if i was there.”
you swallow, nerves fizzing as your fingertips dip just beneath the waistband, barely brushing between your cunt. “if you were here,” you whisper, “i'd want you to run your fingers... up and down. tease me like you always do.”
he whistles through his teeth. “gotta get you ready. always need you nice and wet… but go on, sweetheart. tell me more.”
your breath hitches as your fingers press just a little deeper, grazing yourself the way you know he would. “you’d slide them inside me,” you murmur, cheeks hot even though no one can see you. “slow at first… curling up the way that makes me–” you cut yourself off with a shaky sigh.
"moan?"
and that's exactly what you do when you finally push your index and middle fingers inside, scissoring in and out at a gentle pace, stretching yourself open the way you know he loves, another shaky little moan slipping by.
“there she is,” you can hear the smile in his tone. “knew you couldn’t keep quiet for me.” there’s a rustle on his end, perhaps him pacing over fallen leaves. “god, i’d give anything to see you right now… hear those lovely sounds in person. i miss them so much.”
your wrist twists just slightly and your back arches. “matty…”
“mm, that’s my girl,” he praises gently. "what do you need?"
"you... to touch me."
he stays quiet, listening to you working yourself up for a minute or so. "i fucking wish," he hums. "i’d take my fingers out after they’re covered with your cum, then trace little circles around your clit… can you do that for me?"
you nod your head as your heart races faster. "y–yes."
"such a good girl."
usually, getting yourself off like this takes time. but with him listening to you masturbate, it makes it that much more wonderful and amazing that you already feel your orgasm building up.
you keep rubbing your bundle of nerves, the heavenly sensation traveling down your body until your toes curl. you don't even know if you're breathing because you're too lost in the rhythm and the effort to stay aware enough to still to hear him, to let his voice push you closer and closer, even from hundreds of miles away.
"keep going, yeah? make yourself feel good for me."
with eyes squeezed shut, you imagine the way he’d stare up at you, tongue tracing those tight, devastating spirals that always make you bury your hands in his curls to keep yourself tethered while you lose your mind.
“miss your taste so much… you’ve got no idea,” he admits at the same time you catch a faint rustle from the other end.
“matty…?”
"hmm... yes, lo–love?
you catch the barely there hitch in his breath, the extra little noises in the background and instantly the wicked part of your brain realizes exactly what he’s doing.
“babe… are you–?”
you boyfriend half laughs, half moans and he doesn't even have to say another word to know his hand is wrapped around himself while thinking about you.
“but… aren’t you still outside?” you whisper, breath shaky.
“don’t worry, sweet,” there's a bit of teasing there but now more ragged and lustful than before. “it’s just you and i tonight, ‘kay? plus… i’ll be lucky if i last.”
you wish more than anything that you could see him like this. watching him work himself over might just be your favourite sight in this world. his hand around his cock, fingers slowly slick with his own cum… your literal definition of heaven.
"i miss you, matty."
his laugh is so utterly comforting. "miss you too, my sweet girl," he whispers those words into the phone and you swear you can feel his breath brushing against your ear. "so fucking much."
you’re so damn close now, hand moving frantically, because those tiny white specks are starting to bloom behind your pleasure ridden lids.
"matty?"
"yes darling?"
"can i... can i come?"
and this is your time to chuckle (well, as much as you can given your situation) when you hear him swear perhaps more loudly that he should have given his current location.
"you're such a good fucking girl," the way his voice sounds now, you know he's also close himself. "'course you can, sweet."
and you let yourself go, loud moans spilling from your wide open lips as that all-too-familiar warmth courses through every nerve in your body, leaving you trembling and completely undone. and not even thirty seconds pass before you hear him gasp desperately for air, your name spilling from his mouth again and again. you picture his fingers slick with his cum, stroking himself a few more times until he’s completely spent.
you keep your eyes closed as your breath slowly evens out, somehow falling into the same rhythm as his. not surprising, really. you’re so completely, utterly in love with him that it’s hard to take one without the other.
“you okay, sweetheart?”
his voice is so loving and gentle that it somehow fills that void where his arms would be wrapping around you right about now, holding you so damn close and making everything feel safe, cozy and warm.
"mmhmm."
there’s more silence filling the distance between you two, but it’s the comforting kind. you’d much rather this than him being somewhere else right now.
“i love you, matty.”
“i know, sweet,” and he tells you those same words which you’ll never grow tired of hearing. “don’t think i’d be standing in the middle of some park with cum all over myself for anyone else.”
your heart swells and your breath picks up all over again.
“i’m all yours, darling. always.”
