#tgwtt

"OKAY you take those three, i'll take the rest."

october in la is unfortunately nothing special. there is no fun, drastic change in the trees or chilled weather that calls for layered soft sweaters. though this is all you've known your entire life, growing up only an hour outside of la, so you've gotten pretty good at pretending and finding the autumn spirit within the beaches and palms.

when the triplets exposed that they'd never had "chai anything" a few days ago, while the group lounged out on erin's sunbeds, you and remi were passionately up for the task of forcing them to try one of your homemade iced lattes (as they were essential to the autumn spirit in your eyes).

you both arrived at the warehouse a few hours after noon, heading straight for the small kitchenette with grocery bags in hand. asha giddly followed asking, "whatcha doinnn'?" and lifting herself onto the counter as you both unpacked ingredients. she helped as much as she could before having to return to her receptionist duties.

you spray the sink with water and wipe the remaining mess from the counter, "okay, let me know what they think of it!" you remind remi as she leaves with four drinks in hand.

"i will!" she exclaims.

౨ৎ

after dropping a drink off at the front desk with asha, then caine (another tattoo artist), you find yourself outside of matt's studio. you're happy to hear a lack of buzzing, indicating he doesn't have a client in with him and leaving him all to yourself.

you quietly move his curtain to the side to make sure he’s alone, only for the room to be completely empty aside from his uniquely decorated walls and dim colored furniture. your expression dulls and your hand falls to your side as you walk into the vacant space.

you find comfort in matt’s large, wheeled desk chair as you steal a few sips of what is supposed to be his drink and stare at his computer wallpaper that fades and changes every few seconds. it’s a collection of basic automated wallpapers which you figure makes sense for matt; he would probably care less if his computer at work was void of any personality.

“hey… what’re you doin’ in here?” his scratchy tone finds your ears easily in the otherwise quiet room.

you smile at the sound of his voice and swirl the chair around to face him as he walks in (with a smile mirroring yours across his face). he looks soft and cozy like a teddy bear or one of those soft felt dolls you remember from your childhood. he dawns a faint brown sweater, his hair all messy as if he’d just woken up from a dazed nap. he approaches you with his hands tucked in his pockets, coming so close that he now has to look down at you sprawled out in his rolling chair, “well, i came to have you try my homemade latte but you were no where to be found…” you look down at the remaining half of the drink in humor.

“oh that’s where that mess in the kitchen came from,” he widens his eyes in faux shock, ignoring your grumble of “it was not that messy” and tilts his chin up slightly, “that’s supposed to be for me?”

you glance down at the half empty glass before nodding your head and bringing the straw back to your mouth for a petty sip, echoing, “supposed…”

matt kisses his teeth playfully and leans down, taking hold of the straw once you’ve finished, taking in a sip of the drink slowly. he stares into your eyes an extra second before pulling back and smirking out of enjoyment, “not bad,” he smoothly takes the glass from your hand, “thanks.”

౨ৎ

"when you gonna let me tat' you again?"

matt would never admit this without shame, but his spirits are actually lifted now that you’re taking up his space and time- he’s starting to think his intuition must’ve tied to yours weeks ago when he had kept his schedule clear of any appointments this afternoon. as if he'd already known you’d need room to talk his head off about your long week of work or what you’re planning to do for halloween later in the month.

matt's still getting used to letting himself enjoy you- or at least all that you’ll allow him to have. he can tell you've been attempting to refrain parts of yourself now that you've agreed to take a step back from the intimacy the two of you explored over the summer, opting for the label of ‘friends’ to poorly glue onto your relationship (the gooey, sticky, and messiest kind of glue; runny and uncoordinated like one of the macaroni picture frames he’d made at camp as a kid). but he always seems to find new ways to guide that closeness out of you.

a few nights after your chaotic birthday party you slipped out of the loud dive bar and followed him into the parking lot (not without exchanging a knowing look from andrea; to ground you and ensure you'd be strong). he moved quickly but not at a pace for running, just fast enough that your heeled feet couldn't keep up well. by the time you'd slowly approached him, he was already ducked into his SUV in search of nick's jacket.

your thick heel's decent from constantly hitting the pavement to stopping grabbed his attention. he sent a look over his shoulder and looked away, only to return his gaze again once he recognized your precious face.

he'd move from the car with a smile he rarely gives out, "the fuck you doin' out here sunshine?"

you'd laugh through your nose and glance down with your arms crossed over your chest. he thought you looked extra pretty that night; like you were written down in his favorite font and brought to life as his own dream girl. you wore a sweet-wine colored sweater with your full shoulders peeking out from the size, sheer black tights underneath your small patterned shorts, and an assortment of jewelry (most attractive piece being his gifted charm bracelet). but his eyes did a small pinch and his bottom lip found home in his mouth when he'd begun to notice the neutral expression over your face. and that's when his dream would come to an end.

"hi..yeah, i needed to talk to you but it was really loud everywhere else."

he could tell something was up, "sure, hold on." his head slowly nodded while turning around to grab the jacket from the car and slam the door shut once more. he locked the doors with a small beep as he came closer to your figure, "what is it, baby?"

you'd blink and rub your lips together once before returning them to a slight pout; you were clearly not as sunny as you had been just a few minutes before, dancing and grinding with remi in the bar. like day and night.

your eyes didn't follow him, it was as if you hadn't even noticed his proximity until he had his hands cradling your head and moving your face to look at his. "y/n ... what is it babyy?" his words drew out into the space between you, a comedic tone lacing them.

your eyes kept looking all over his face, "matt, i just think ... i think we should actually be friends, like you said remember? on the phone."

his dream girl. his dream girl who just sent him back to square fucking one when he stupidly assumed she'd come outside to crush on him and give him a secret kiss or two. his dream girl just threw his own words back at him which makes it worse, somehow.

matt's brain and words counteract so often that he shouldn't be surprised anymore, "hey ... are we not being friends right now?" you'd roll your eyes. "what??"

"matt."

he played with a strand of your hair that fell perfectly out of place and into your face, "is it because we kiss? you know i kiss all friends, yours and mine," he laughed before he could fully finish the sentence and you were quick to push him away and start walking the other direction. "i'm kiddingggg!" he'd walk behind you repeatedly asking you to stop, before he wrapped an arm around your waist and brought you close to him. "stop it sun'. i said m'kidding! can i just get one hug please? i'll keep it innocent as fuck."

you paused before softly uttering, "of course you can, matt." you turned yourself around in his hold to give in to his embrace, head curled into his chest as his arms slung around your waist. you couldn't quite tell whether he was asking you or informing you when he reluctantly whispered into your ear, "promise we're all good." so you remained silent.

he respects that you felt the need to reverse everything between you two but can't help but wish every now and then you'd call and ask him to come and fuck you in the middle of the night. he's pissed that now he's got this nagging in his chest and shift in his brain when you’re around that you don't seem to deal with at all.

you're just his friend. his friend who he's currently listening to while softly sketching jagged faces on a gum wrapper pressed against your thigh.

you've stopped overanalyzing these moments with matt, now that you've agreed you're just friends it's helped you embrace them for what they are at the time without worrying the implications of the future. you're back to having a crush on matt but you think this must be better than constantly secretly competing with erin for him; constantly hurting your own feelings.

your body is relaxed as you drape yourself over his cold, leather tattoo bed, resting your head on your bent forearm as you talk, resisting the touch-deprived-shudders that come over you with every stroke of the pencil or movement of his hand innocently over your upper thigh.

you're caught off guard by his question. "ummmm, 'never again' would be my first choice."

matt breathes a laugh, "come on, you won't let me put somethin' else on you?"

"matt, i am only just now mentally well after the first." you glance down at your thigh, naturally curious as to what he's drawing.

"lying and being dramatic, this is ridiculous." he tsks and smiles to himself.

"dude, m'not! recovery is very hell-like."

there's a small silence as he crafts his idea, "okay ... but if i let you tat me, then can i tat you again?"

your excitement is so abundant as you spring up, "shut up, you wont!" he shrugs his shoulders, "you'd let me?! like, actually?!" he nods and you try not to get too giddy over the fact that matt offered something you'd off-handedly mentioned during one of your many pillow-talk sessions (to which he'd told you he'd never let anyone besides chris or himself tattoo him); meaning he too remembers times of borderline romance between you two, and you are not alone in those memories you keep in your mind.

matt laughs at you and swipes the gum wrapper from your skin, crumbling it and tossing it into a small bin. "yeah, i'll let you, s’gotta be small as fuck though."

౨ৎ

your hands shake without command as you touch at the small section of unmarked skin on matt's forearm. he's guided you up until now, preparing you with the very basic and rushed skills that you'll need to ink the tiny heart he'd requested.

"breathe," he reminds you, making you both laugh when you let out a deep breath you hadn't realized you were holding in.

"are you sure you want me to do this? it's a big responsibility ... i don't think i can handle it." you look at him and he's already looking at you with a smirk.

"y/n, just put the fucking gun to my skin, it'll be fine." he encourages as his opposite hand drags across his jaw to scratch at his scruffy facial hair.

you bite at your lip and shake your head before steadying yourself. you get close to direct contact but feel the pressure of matt watching, causing you to pull away, "we should just get chris to come do it."

matt groans and lets his head fall back dramatically. "hell no. i don't want it if you don't do it, c'mon sunny." he pulls himself back up to face you, "you know i trust you, right?" his eyes hold onto yours.

a loaded fucking question. you allow a breathy, "yes," to pull from your mouth.

his voice is quiet and he won't let his eyes leave yours, "'kay ... good," he's a bit louder again, "let's see it." he lies back down on the leather bed.

when you finally gain the courage, you gently hold and press into his skin. he almost immediately yells in pain, scaring you and making your entire body jump back. your frantic eyes look at him, "fuck! oh my god, i'm so sorry, honey. are you okay?" he's holding back a laugh with his eyes crinkled and cheeks full of air, "matt, seriously?! i'm gonna fucking kill you!" you scold him as he childishly laughs at your expense, taking hold of your shaking hand and rubbing it a few times to gain your trust again.

౨ৎ

it's frustrating that you've only become more hot to matt now that your relationship has fallen platonic, probably due to the appeal of wanting someone he just can't seem to have.

so, he's embarrassingly attracted to your request for the words "lucky you" written in silky cursive under the space where your bra clips softly against your back. he's reluctantly found a spark of jealousy in the idea of other guys that will indeed be lucky enough to see the hidden ink as he begins to wipe the area with an alcohol pad.

it took a lot of convincing to get you to this point, you were adamant that it would hurt far too much and you couldn't take it. but matt's good enough with his words (or maybe you just like to believe whatever he's got to say) so you gave in eventually.

he interrupts you to check in once he's got the outline printed in the area, "am i good to start?"

you're honest, "no, but yeah."

"hey, i got you, bab- ..." he lets his voice cut off and clears his throat. "i got you, y/n. you'll be fine."

"thank you." you let out and pinch your eyes closed once the hypnotic buzz of the tattoo gun begins.

just like the first time, you find comfort in talking as matt works on you, your voice straining the few times he marks over rough bone or muscle.

matt tries to keep your spirits up, by staying engaged in your conversation and adding a few jokes to hear your (pained) laugh; like when he responded to you reminiscing over your first time meeting under similar circumstances with, "i'm a little nostalgic too, it's been a minute since i've had you topless for me."

your voice is muffled from your face being squished against the bed, "matt, i'll kick you. i'm in too much pain for you to poke fun at me right now, funny guy."

your brain holds onto this for longer than he'd think. how dare he bring up your sexual past while his large hands hold you down to this bed and your bare back is left on display?! as if you weren't suffering enough!

౨ৎ

"i am ob-fucking-sessed!" you look behind you into the mirror displaying your back's delicate artwork.

"you like it?"

"i knew i would. you did amazing. i can't wait for it to heal." you're in stood in awe of your reflection, but can detect matt's unwavering eyes on you which makes your body heat.

౨ৎ

the dingiest smell of old cigarettes and hot liquor painted fumes in the air surrounding matt, with his frame slouched against the bar.

"matt the fucking man! what's good, you're mighty quiet tonight, huh?!" eli claps a hand against matt's shoulder, forcing a bit of matt's full cocktail glass to spill over and coat his hand and the grimy floor.

matt ignores the wetness and flashes him a smile, "'m fine, you know i'm not one to go out of my way to speak to just anyone."

"yeah, but you're like," eli squints his eyes and holds a finger at him, "like, all, you know- almost like you're sad. the fuck do you have to be sad about?!" he holds his hands up as if to say, we have this entire disgusting bar to hang out in, what could you possibly be upset about?!

"m' not fucking sad," matt deadpans and takes a long sip from his small glass, setting it on the bar.

"yeah..." eli laughs, "come on bridget's got us a table over here." he tilts his head away from the bar and towards a large crowd.

౨ৎ

the yellow hued bathroom is brightly lit as you keep hold of your tits in one arm and raise the small tube of tattoo ointment up to your face while andrea delicately applies it to your two week old tattoo for you. figaro lazily curls up in the sink beneath you, purring in long, sleepy drawls.

"okay, but what a wild story to tell- my ex situationship gave me both of my hottest-placed tattoos. how do you manage to hang out with him, let alone take your top off and not even make out with him afterwards?"

you practically slam them bottle down on the counter due to your whole enthusiasm, scaring figaro as he leaps and hits his head on the sink's silver spout before rushing out of the room, "aw, i'm sorry kitty!" you attempt to console with your words, "but trust me when i tell you this- it took so much out of me, drea, when i tell you he's, like, the cutest when he's all focused on his work and giving me all of his attention." you gawk at the memory.

"i know, babe. but it's best that it's done with. that back and forth and constant comparison to erin was getting excessive and he only plays into it. it's fucked up!" andrea was the one to come to you the morning after your birthday party and advise you to essentially give him an ultimatum or end "whatever you were" for the better. it hurt to hear and at first you asked her to leave the situation alone as this was exactly why you never wanted to tell her.

it only took matt and erin flirting in front of you again a few nights later for you consider her opinion and decide to put a stop to the fling you and matt had.

"you're right, he fumbled badly. we both know this ..." you pause with a small pout forming, "but at the same time, what if i'm the one fumbling?!" you exclaim and andrea immediately laughs.

she places her head on your shoulder and squeezes your arms softly, "never that! honey, that man will easily regret not having you for the rest of his life."

౨ৎ

matt has unnamed people crowding him on both sides, some practically on top of him, while packed into this small curved booth. he'd normally be beyond irritated by this but without the proximity he'd probably be more annoyed having to call out "what?" every time eli attempts to say anything over the blaring music.

"alright, tell me what you been up to matt! haven’t seen you in a bit'," eli pries while pouring shots of the room-temperature tequila for the two of them.

matt shrugs. lately his brain has remained with you and how to either return things to how they used to be or completely move on from you. "same shit. working, sleeping." matt rubs a hand over his face, "got this girl i was fucking around with for a bit but i'm a little too into her."

"ohhh shit! my boy's usin' past tense and sayin' he's "too into her"?" he sends the shot over to matt with a smooth slide across the dark wood. eli whistles and tuts, "sounds like you gotta get over this broad."

matt looks to the ceiling with his eyes closed and lips rolled into his mouth, before exhaling with a dramatic flutter of his lips and shake of his head. "sounds like it," he agrees and readjusts his hat towards the back before lifting the small shot glass into the air, connecting it with eli's.

the two immediately throw the shots down their throats with large grins. and before matt can place his glass back on the table there's a slice of sour lime placed into his mouth by a girl next to him as a second scoots closer and kisses his opposite cheek with her sticky lip gloss.

matt pulls the lime from his mouth after sucking hard, "yeah, think i'll take a few more of those," he laughs and spins his finger in the air indicating another round be poured.

౨ৎ

you gently tuck a soft blanket around andrea's sleeping figure on the large couch before you head to your room for the night.

your room is a haven. decorated with stylish hints of posh pink and zangy orange hues that remind you of your childhood home's dining room. when you're lonely you find comfort in the small trinkets you've collected over the years, sat on a dresser next to a ceramic bowl with an assortment of rings, bracelets, and loose earrings. there are pieces of artwork on your walls, a few gifted from your old college roommate (who had more painted canvases than she knew what to do with) and a few you've picked up from vintage shops. you keep a few framed pictures of your family and girlfriends on your bedside table (keeping them close and connected to you in your most vulnerable state).

you let out a surprisingly loud (and long) yawn as you move to light a few small candles around your room. eventually opening the small drawer to your bedside table and grabbing one of the few joints (lucas had rolled using juicy watermelon wrapping papers per your request) from a small plastic bag. you grin to yourself as you place it in your mouth and bring a soft green lighter to ignite the end and bring life to the small stick.

once you fill your lungs you gracefully fall onto your plush bed, spreading your arms out wide before taking hold of the joint to blow a stream of swirly smoke up into the air above you. you give a dazed, dopey smile to your ceiling before tastefully drawing in another hit of the funky plant.

౨ৎ

post smoking a full joint and writing a tangent-heavy journal entry, you're left wondering about the moody twenty-something tattoo artist who seems to linger in every crevice of your home. it definitely doesn't help that weed tends to make you pathetically horny, practically sealing your fate.

you lay yourself on your stomach and play with a loose string coming from a throw blanket as your phone dials and buzzes against your cheek.

"y/n?" his voice pitches up an octave which makes you giggle.

"matt?" you mock him, "hi, what are you doing?"

"i'm, uh," you start to notice the loud and bouncy background.

you pinch your eyebrows together, "oh fuck, i didn't realize you were out. i'm sorry. i just was missing you, i guess."

you can hear him groan dramatically, "missing me is crazy...?! do you actually? you're not jus' sayin' that, right?"

"you know i'm not a liar, matthew."

his words are slightly slurred and dripping in intoxication, "i don't know, do i? you're a sneaky girl sometimes."

"not as sneaky as you," you purse your lips.

"mmmm yeah, prolly. where are you?" he distractedly changes the subject.

you cradle your chin in your palm with a sigh, "home. i should be asleep i have work in the morning. but i'm high and i just ..." you stare off into space, "oou, i ... probably shouldn't have called you."

"what?"

your body freezes, "shit, oh god. just like pretend i never did this okay? please."

"huh? sunny what the fuck are you talkin' about?!" he's laughing but your influenced brain convinces yourself he must be laughing at you. matt must've known you were a few sentences away from going back on your word and stupidly inviting him back into your bedroom. he probably thought you were pulling a sick joke. you hang up before grabbing one of your pillows and erupting into uncontrollable sobs. you only sob more when you feel the embarrassment of crying for essentially no real reason.

౨ৎ

matt moves the phone away from his ear with confusion drawn across his face at the abrupt ending of that phone call, slowly blinking at the bright screen before he's once again receiving soft kisses against his throat and across his jaw.

she leans in so that he hears her as she jokingly mocks his loved up phone call, "who's 'sunny'?"

matt's mouth splits in a wide drunken smile as he laughs it off, his hair slightly damp at this point from sweat and body heat, "s'no one, don't worry about it." he takes hold of the girl's face and brings his mouth to hers.

taglist -★

general taglist: @wherewindysurgeswend @gothicgibsongirl @bookphobe @sadsentinel @mcximilians @tragediesoftory @euphoniouspandemonium @ortolon

(adding the cosmopolitan taglist as well bc why not)

Cosmopolitan taglist: @alias-levi @laurenbacallgf @ziyin @rememberedkisses  @writingbyjillian @tragediesoftory @bulletgirl @mcximilians @moariin @mayawritesbooks @plutoslittlecosmos @fictional-semantics @ryns-ramblings @silverstqrs @chuchoters @ashen-crest @arkicts @generalblizzarddreamer @jaxwolffwrites @ladywithalamp @ravenetteviolettes @citywillows @childhoodlovers

THE house is flooding. people are moving in and out constantly; stepping out for a smoke, or leaning over to let out strings of bile-filled saliva, or just leave the crowded event altogether. those who walk past the leaving groups are likely to step over a few drunk, costume-clad bodies (who have decided the floor looks "hella comfy" at that point in their night), and would be met with an undeniable heat radiating from every wall as the electric beats of the rhythm of the night headlines over every speaker.

by the time you arrive (with remi's hands wrapped tightly around your upper arm as if you were both entering a terrifying, haunted house rather than a boozy costume party) the party is at it's peak. a man in a hyper-realistic werewolf costume stood at the door to ask for your names and shamelessly flirt with the two of you before you were let into the large house.

you look to remi with excitement once you're fully engulfed in the home and your faces are both painted by the slow changing, colored lights. just as your mouth opens to speak, a smooth and familiar voice rings out a groan around you both, "good god!" lucas breaks between you two, hanging each of his large arms over the length of both you and remi's shoulders. "you two are lookin' fine as hell," he looks back and forth, eyeing you both with his toothy grin that glimmers extra with the decorative gem on his canine.

remi lets out a laugh, "thank you lucas," she sees the way he's leaning onto you and drawing circles on your shoulder making her smile, "but i will not be participating in any sister-wive shenanigans- so i'll see you," she slips from his hold and begins to walk backwards and silently mouths "i'll be in the kitchen" to you while motioning her hand as if she was drinking something which makes you laugh to yourself and exchange thumbs up's with each other.

lucas sends a flutter of his fingers to remi and when she turns around to navigate through the crowd, he's looking at you again- with your dolled up face and sheer-red glossed lips that he keeps staring at whenever you're speaking or rubbing them together. he hooks his arm to pull you closer as he leans down to speak into your ear through your hair, "how've you been, baby?"

your face gives away his obvious affect on you. you look down and then back up at him, bringing your hand up to play with his fingers on your hot skin, "i've been good. how about you?"

he brings his head close as he listens to you speak, nodding his head at a few people who assumingly recognize him.

"mmm," he unwraps his arm from you as he moves to lean his back against a wall with various faux spiderwebs and skulls stuck to it; still just as crowded by people on either side of him talking loudly or meeting each other's tongues. "love to hear that, you know 'm always feelin' good," he keeps ahold of your hand and smoothly spins you around to face him. he eyes your tight red corset and the way your ass sits in those tiny pink bloomer shorts and has to ask, "so.. what are you? some kind of fairy?"

his face looks so genuinely curious and attractive under the luxurious lighting that you can't help but smile, "i'm cupid! see?" you turn and lift your leg slightly to show off a small decorative bow and arrow attached by a lacy thigh garter.

"have you shot anyone yet?" he grins and his eyes, while puffy and red, remain focused on you.

it's been a while since you've seen lucas and even longer since you've felt the gentle intimacy from a guy you like, so you lean close and wrap your arms around his neck, lifting yourself up slightly to kiss his cheek, "just one."

lucas dramatically groans and leans his head back against the wall, "fuckin' hell," he bites at his bottom lip. when he finally brings himself to make eye contact with you again you're there, so close to him, with that pretty smile and those charming eyes. he jokingly shakes his head back and forth, "jesus." he starts to look around before calling out, "are there any nurses around here?! shit i'll take a sexy doctor at this point- my heart might just give out right now!"

you let out a cackle and look behind you at the few people who have overheard lucas' call for help before looking back to him and shushing him through his attractive laugh and calls of “help me”. he pulls you close enough for your faces to unintentionally meet to share an intoxicating giggle, before you take hold of his thick overall strap and hold his chin, feeling over his soft facial hair. you surprise him when you deliver a taste of you with a kiss to his lips, your voice gentle, "hey shhh ... i can take care of you."

౨ৎ

"what. the. fuck?!" matt says through a stifled laugh, waving through the smokey air to ensure he is seeing correctly.

chris stands with his hips tilted and cherry red lips pouted, dressed head to toe in a little red-riding-hood costume while he leans on a giggly andrea who's his self-proclaimed slutty big-bad-wolf counterpart. she’s got fluffy grey ears on top of her loosely curled hair and heavy dark eyeliner that brings out the hazel in her eyes. her tiny daisy duke shorts, furry boots, and sharp fake canines pull the rest of her costume together perfectly.

nathan's cackle rings as he comes from behind matt to greet his friends, "holy shit, that's too good, which one of you thought of this?!" he points a finger out from his grip on a slim beer bottle.

chris starts to laugh as andrea playfully replies, "who do you think?"

"just wait until nick sees you in this after you told him you wouldn't do drag with him..." matt tsks, still astonished by the sight of his brother in a tiny skirt.

chris twirls and plays with the ends of his frazzled wig as andrea begins to show them the photos she'd taken while they were getting ready. matt looks over to chris, "i really can't deal with how into this you are."

chris' face deadpans and he jokingly jumps at matt with a fist curled, making matt move backwards and almost knock nathan's drink out of his hand, "yeah, that's what i thought! i'll beat your ass!" he pitches his voice up to a hyper-feminine octave.

andrea lifts her hands up as she laughs, "woah? i thought this was a classy party?!"

matt sputters out his own chuckle at chris who is still playing up some sort of reality tv level fight, "oh my god hold me back!" he wraps andrea's arms around his torso while simultaneously throwing his arms in matt's direction, "hold me back babe, i'm about to kill this bitch!"

almost everyone around them has fallen weak from laughter when nick's exclaim cuts through over the loud music and hysterics, "is that christopher?! my brother?!" nick rushes down the stairs and chris immediately pushes through a crowd to go hug him.

"dude, chris is off one tonight! holy shit, i can't stop laughing," nathan wipes his eyes and rests his hand on matt's shoulder.

asha (who just so happened to get caught in chris' tight hug due to nick's hold on her hand) gives chris a soft pat on the back before ducking from between the two drunk idiots' hold and heading to greet her friends. "andrea! hi pretty lady!" the two squeeze each other tight before she moves to hug nate and matt.

"you all look so good! where's y/n?" she asks with a wide grin, the bright colors of her daphne costume enhancing the bronze of her skin in the low lighting.

"don't know." matt says with a shrug and a glance around the party atmosphere. he wish he knew. honestly, he wishes you were at his side, holding onto him right now.

his night out with elijah a few weeks back was only helpful for that night. sure, he had fun with the attention and heat of the moment sex that came with it- but he was left annoyed the next day when he woke up next to a girl incomparable to you. it was embarrassing and an emotionally drunk mistake; he's given himself enough shit for it, so he doesn't feel any need to ever expose that to you, if he's gifted with your openness again. if.

"she got ready at remi's, so i haven't seen her yet," andrea says before she's distracted by her boyfriend stood on a wooden table across the room, "chris! bájate (get off)! get down from there!" she yells in worry while quickly parting from the group.

"god, he’s wild." asha looks from chris dancing on the raised table to the two boys next to her, "well, i'm gonna go get a drink and hopefully find y/n while i'm gone," she spins to leave and surprisingly matt is right next to her, ready to follow suit.

"i'll come with you," he explains and asha pauses in question, "c'mon, just keep walkin'."

the two approach the vile display of a kitchen with cluttered liquors and mixers, sticky residue atop the counters and plenty of bodies using the space as their personal lounge. matt's got his head turning constantly (in hopes to at least spot you from afar and get the chance to admire), as he stands next to asha who's creating a beverage of sorts, "what're y'making?"

"literally have no clue, just puttin' a little malibu with hawaiian punch i'm sure it'll be fine-" she looks over to him, "what the hell are you doing?" she laughs while putting the cap back onto the tall bottle, "whipping your head around like crazy. do you have opps around here, matthew?"

matt rolls his eyes, "no," he sighs and goes to grab another beer from the fridge (after excusing himself to a couple leant against it). he twists the cap and takes a long sip.

"hey! you done with that yet?" a brash and irritating voice yells into the air, causing matt and asha to look over to see the guy with a poorly made vampire costume and his grimy finger pointed at her, "yeah, you!"

"excuse me?! who the fuck are you talking to?" asha immediately defends while gesturing to the bottle dismissively, "yeah i'm done with it you asshole, take it."

though he stays silent, matt's face displays disgust which makes the man just as mad, "the fuck is wrong with your face, cowboy? can't even defend your girl but you wanna have that dumbass look on your face."

matt laughs, the last thing he expected was to be ridiculed and pestered tonight, "can you chill the fuck out? there was no issue until your greedy ass came in here and started cussin' at girls and callin' me a cowboy when i'm clearly indiana jones."

asha tilts her hand as if to say, clearly? well that's debatable, which makes matt kiss his teeth. she ignores him and flashes a smile, mouthing, "okay, let's go" but the guy can't help but rebuttal and continue to shout profanities while the pair head out of the kitchen. so it's only right that matt turn his head to the guy and yell out, "go find some happiness and peace you drunk fuck, no one wants you here!" before he snickers to himself and gulps down more of his beer, wiping his dripping mouth with his exposed forearm.

matt and asha swiftly move through the crowd while laughing and sipping at their drinks until they find a spot big enough for both of them on the makeshift dancefloor. "hey, that drink better be worth literally fighting for." matt yells over the music and points at the solo cup in her hand.

"eh," she shrugs and begins to sway herself with the hypnotic dance-pop music playing loudly. she connects large dips of her hips with movement in her arms and lipsyncing that helps to loosen matt up enough to find some enjoyment in the small buzz of alcohol and pounding musical vibrations. though his playful mood dies when asha almost chokes on her drink (out of excitement) as she taps at matt's shoulder a few quick times. "oh my god! i found y/n! and ... is that ... lucas?" she squints her eyes.

matt doesn't mean to but his entire body reverses to get a view. only it's worse than he could ever imagine in his own creative mind. it's the harsh breaths you're taking and the way your bodies move as one and how he's hugging onto you under these turquoise and orange lights, it feels like matt has just been kicked down onto his knees and beaten over the head bloody. the heat of the people around him who keep bumping into him as he stands and watches you perform, is dizzying. there's constant movement in both time and the crowd, yet matt feels stuck. but that's strictly internal, matt's external remains dangerously calm. calm enough that asha doesn't notice any change, not even the roughness in his throat when he replies to her comment of "i didn't even know they were a thing" with a hushed, "me neither..."

౨ৎ

"wow you look fucking terrible, matt" nick stares with wide eyes, "asha, babe, how did you leave my brother alone for like thirty minutes and he's got the face of death the next time we see him?!" he laughs at his brother slumped in a lonesome outdoor chair.

"s’not on me! i promise he was fine when i left him!" she drunkenly expresses.

matt leans his head to the side, "yeah, make fun of me all you want. i'm not the idiot in a fuckin' blonde wig."

nick dramatically caresses his short, slightly off-centered, wig, "not too much! i am fred fucking jones!” making asha giggle uncontrollably as he adds, “where is the respect for icons around here?!”

matt's finding it difficult to enjoy any part of his night now that he has the sight of lucas practically fucking you in his friend's living room imprinted in his skull. he wishes you could have seen him there, watching. he hopes that your stomach would've dropped and you'd ask him to forgive you as he walked away. he hopes that maybe lucas was bothering you and matt just missed the part where you slapped him and told him to leave you alone. that wasn't his fucking sunny. sunny has more respect for herself. he knows sunshine when he sees it; and sunshine is better than matt. from what he saw, tonight you're just like him. how could you? do you truly see matt as a fucking friend? has all of his bickering about not getting with his friends fallen on deaf ears? or do you just not care enough?

౨ৎ

"so you're the only minion? what are your friends dressed as then?" you ask in reference to his costume as lucas feeds you a potato chip from the large bowl he stole from a dining table.

he has a smile as he looks up at you, sat on top of his lap, "yeah, you could say i went rogue, i guess. i got fired for bein' high on the job." you laugh and he brings another chips to your mouth, "all my boys are dressed like m&ms or batman and shit." lucas is caught by surprise when he sees matt approach the couch. "matt! what's up, man. i haven't seen you in a minute, here sit down." he moves the bowl from the cushion next to him, tapping the seat to invite him closer.

you quietly take a sip from the cold mixed drink in your hand and play with the lacy ruffles on your tiny shorts. you wonder if he’ll actually sit down, just to fuck with you. you truly never know what to expect from matt, you two haven't even been alone together since he'd given you an impromptu tattoo on your back. you know he’s likely come over to degrade you over enjoying any time without him. you don’t think he should be bothered with what you do with anyone else at this point.

he speaks up with a shake of his head and downturned lips, "nah i'm cool. y/n, can i talk to you?" his voice has a deep rasp that forces his east coast roots to sprinkle into his dialect.

"hm?" you finally look over to him. while your eyelids sparkle with loose glitter, his eyelids are heavy and his eyebrows, a confusing kind of angry. his lips are upset with you and his jaw is achingly pissed. your lips are still so soft and plump; matt would hate to think they've been kissed by the man underneath you.

"can we go talk?"

"what's going on? is it about one of our friends?" you're playing clueless in hopes that he'll let you finish enjoying your time not thinking about him tonight. for one fucking night.

he repeats your words in a breathy mock, "what's going on? y/n, please don't do this bullshit with me right now."

"alright no need for all that," lucas breathes out, his eyebrows pinched together.

a smile plays on matt’s face at the audacity of him to speak up as the literal other man here, "lucas, shut the fuck up. this has nothing to do with you, i'm just tryna' talk to my friend right now before i leave this dumbass party."

"wh-?!" lucas' voice gains it's own, contrasting, roughness.

“matt?!” you scold and immediately stand up, turning to lucas with an exhaustive sigh, "just give me a sec, okay?" you squeeze his hand before turning to matt, "come on."

౨ৎ

"this is fucking ridiculous,” he huffs.

"matt, slow down. please," you try to keep up with him physically through the crowd, and emotionally through his words.

he's mostly talking to himself with the way he speaks under his breath, "what the fuck were you thinkin'?"

"i can't hear, what are you saying?" you genuinely ask and try to move closer from behind him, only you accidentally move too harsh and swift, tripping yourself in the process.

he's quick to grab hold of your torso and lift you upright, "be careful, y/n."

"yeah, m’trying, matt." you readjust yourself upright and he takes his warm hands away from your body, reluctantly grabbing your hand instead to pull you the rest of the way through.

౨ৎ

you can finally see him. now that you’re both stood in the first bedroom matt could find upstairs, you're finally able to see him under the controlled, yellowed light of the private room.

you're in the middle of the unfamiliar room, watching him with his back towards you as he shuts the door. he lets out a deep breath as he looks over to you. it's too bad he can't cherish you when you're so damn cute in your tight costume and angel wings.

you curiously admire his appearance as well; he's clad in brown textured pants with a belt and rope connected while his toned chest and arms display his collection of tattoos under the brown vest. his face is attractively looking to you with fake bruises on his cheekbones and corner of his lip. the hat and satchel he wears would normally make you smile and giggle out of appreciation for his commitment to the character, but he's looking at you with such trouble you're feeling the drunken buzz you once had begin to fade.

"hey," your voice is small.

"y/n, what the fuck is going on?" his voice is immediately bitter.

you breathe out a laugh through your nose dismissively, "wow, okay. i'm not doing this right now..." you start to walk around him and towards the door.

"what? don't leave?!" he follows you and you stop.

you look over your shoulder at him, "matt, i'm not letting you yell at me and make me feel bad for enjoying my night out."

"no, i-" he sighs through his nose and comes close as he lowers his voice, "i'm trying to look after you," he gently wraps his arms over your shoulders, connecting his hand with his wrist.

"you're not... you're actually just being selfish, matt." you stand your ground.

"lucas isn't good for you, y/n, i've told you this," he reminds you with his face buried into the space where your shoulder and neck meet.

you groan, "i don't think you understand how fucking frustrating you sound!" you remove his arms and turn yourself around to look into his eyes, because maybe it will help him (and yourself) believe your words, "you wanna talk matt? let's talk. how about this: you and i were never and will never be together."

matt's tongue runs over his teeth and his stomach slightly aches the thought but he takes it on the chin, playing up his cocky personality you unfortunately have grown to favor. he smiles in your face, "i bet that felt good, huh?"

"better than you'd think." you think he can't tell but your eyes are the slightest bit glossier as you speak.

"mm," he nods his head, "right … so now what? you found another sleazed-out pothead to give you dick every now and then? you replacin' me?" he condescendingly laughs at you.

"'m not fucking him, matt. you're being childish." your eyes pinch in animosity.

matt notices your hand remaining on the doorknob, "you're not gonna leave yet though? we still need to talk.."

"about what?" you cross your arms.

matt shrugs with pouted lips, "i mean, i don't know. whatever friends talk about. i haven't seen your pretty ass all night- don't want my impact to be us fussin' at each other."

"you've made a big enough impact already don't you worry." you sarcastically roll your eyes and move to go stretch out on the soft bed, “but fine we can talk, as long as you go get a few drinks for us to share.”

౨ৎ

"you can’t be serious!" he exclaims with a laugh.

"no! m' dead serious-” you adjust yourself to sit up tall on your knees, the bed dipping below you and your strawberry wine cooler in hand, “and you know me, i’m just stood there trying to fight off actual tears while this woman nitpicks my entire cake design in front of a crowd of customers, matt.” you widen your hands to exaggerate your drunken spiel, “a crowd!”

matt continues to laugh at you through his mouthful of slightly bitter beer, he swallows before tugging your arm so that you’re sat once more, “c’mere.”

after you asked that he bring drinks up to you if he expected you to stay and talk with him, matt almost immediately went to the kitchen. he left you to sit alone in the space with your thoughts, which only made you crave a drink strong enough to make you stop thinking of all the bad. you wondered what lucas was doing but that began to make you fell terrible; you sent him a text apologizing for matt’s behavior and telling him you were going home for the night but you’d enjoyed your time with him. he was kind and cool about it which you appreciated.

you accidentally topple into his chest him when you’re pulled down, but matt easily adjusts himself to hold you as if it was a perfect accident. you blink slowly as you look at him and his teeth that show only slightly with his smile.

he can’t help but move his free hand further along your body, he hasn’t held you like this in what feels like forever. “i missed you,” he admits and palms your thigh soothingly.

you just stare at him. you want to believe him so badly but even your intoxicated brain can replay andrea’s words from two nights ago through your head: “and chris told me that … matt’s been sleeping around with a few different girls over the past month and a half …”

it pains you to remember the initial shock you felt, so you take your final sip of your drink and move from his lap, taking his drink he was currently sipping from him and placing both cans on a small table in the room.

“what is it?” matt questions with his costume-clad body stretched over the length of the bed and his head propped up by his hand when you come back over to the bed.

“i know you don’t miss me, matt,” you try to sound as put together as possible, sitting yourself cross-legged and in front of him. you take off his hat to let his hair fall out and into its place, kissing at his temples.

you place the hat behind you as matt leans closer to you, placing a hand on your knee, “you don’t know anything if you think i’m lyin’…” he looks up into your droopy yet seductive eyes.

you smirk at his confidence before you lie down parallel to him, “be honest, i can handle it.” you pry. you wonder if he’d actually tell you, especially when he so obviously wants to get in your pants.

“you want honesty? hmmm…” he reaches for your hand, playing with your smooth and manicured nails, “honestly… i was pissed when i saw you with lucas earlier, i don’t think you should give him your time.” his expression is a bit serious like he truly had kept those words in his drunken mind all night. you don’t give any change in your face, tired of reiterating that you don’t care what matt has to say about your love life anymore. “and well, honestly…” he licks over his bottom lip, “you look cute as fuck as cupid tonight.”

you reluctantly smile, “wow all of that and your nose never grew.”

“i’m an honest man. your turn,” you continues to play with your hand.

“honestly… i think the indiana jones look is doing you favors.” you giggle when he displays a look of shock by your compliment, “don’t act so surprised! ‘m more shocked we haven’t kissed each other yet.” you comment.

matt blinks a few times finding the space between you two has become warmer, “pretty sure kissing is considered a friendly interaction in france,” he pulls you closer before leaning over to hold your face in his palm.

“you made that up,” you giggle and look from his intoxicating blue eyes to his pink lips.

his own laugh slips through his smooth delivery, “yeah i did but-”

you tangle your fingers through his deep brown hair as you pull his face to connect with yours, suddenly too overwhelmed with desire to let matt finish his sentence.

he lets the control stay in your hands, with his weight on top of yours and his tongue only peeking out once your lips wrap around it.

it’s hot and spit heavy collision, with both of you endlessly sucking and holding the other’s lips captive. you’re so clouded that you can’t be bothered to complain that your decorative wings are uncomfortable and poking into you.

matt’s hands reach into the bloomers you wear and pull them down slightly to grip the skin of your full hips and feel the fabric of your tiny pair of underwear. your hands continue to scratch at his scalp and hold his cheeks (at times moving to hold his neck and give tiny pulsing squeezes).

your mind is one tracked and eventually you’re fed up with waiting for matt to push past your underwear and give you what you need. you take it upon yourself to move your hand from his chiseled cheek to the space between you two, trailing down and into your shorts.

matt initially thinks you’ve gone to move into his pants but is pleasantly surprised to pull back and see you using your fingers on yourself. he hums against your ear, “mmm you’re so fucking sexy when you’re touching yourself, sun’.”

you mewl out a soft moan at his words as he lays wet kisses from your ear to your neck, where he licks and nips lightly. you move your fingers from your clit to dip into you, whining out towards the ceiling as you work them.

matt purposely places his crotch against your spread thigh to give you insight into his cravings. what he doesn’t expect is you to tell him, “fuck yourself matt- do it against my thigh,” through several breathy moans. he moves to kiss your lips and flick his tongue against your own again. when he pulls away you whisper, “please? i wanna watch you, matt.”

he punches his eyes closed and you bring your hand from your shorts up to his mouth, smearing your index and middle fingers across his lips until he opens his mouth and sucks your fingers thoroughly, attempting to give out a moan with his mouth full.

his teeth slightly graze your fingers as you pull them from him, your soft voice meeting his ears while his eyes stare admirably, “you got me all wet,” you show your damp fingers before you move them back to play with your sensitive clit.

matt’s head tilts downwards to watch you move your hand beyond the fabric, taking it upon himself to pull your pink bloomers off of you.

he watches your fingers working eagerly under your lace underwear as he unbuckles his belt as quickly as he can. he glances up at your face, with your mouth hung in an open “o” shape and your hair slightly disheveled, and can’t help but pause his undressing to kiss your cheeks harshly, making his way to your mouth for needy and rushed kisses. you remove your hand from your pleasure to finish unzipping matt’s pants and messily pushing his boxers down far enough to free his dick.

matt lets out a relieved groan at the feeling, removing his lips from you to spit on his hand and immediately wrap it around himself to release the tense pressure. matt holds onto you as he moves himself against the fullest part of your inner thigh, so close to your heat that his stomach recoils just thinking about being inside you.

his moans are just as whiney as yours when you begin to hurriedly hump into your own hand. matt’s face is smushed into the side of your face with heavy breaths and body heat adding to the tumultuous pressure in your core. “matt,” you breathe against him, “i can’t hold-”

he brings his hand to your neck, shushing you, “yeah? s’okay…”

you allow his encouragement and strained voice to aid you as you finish with shaking legs and a string of sharp moans into matt’s ear. you attempt to close your legs but matt forces them to remain wide as he adjusts his dick to lie against your soaked panties before rutting his hips pathetically against the covered area.

you whimper at the feeling and your legs jerk softly whenever his head bumps at your tired clit. you wrap your arms around matt’s neck to keep his body close to yours whispering in his ear how sensitive you are and that he needs to be gentle with you to make him moan into your mouth and promise he’ll try.

your tongue plays in his mouth as matt reaches his peak, groaning (embarrassingly loud for someone who did nothing more than jerk himself against you) and continuing his strokes as he cums on your covered cunt.

he removes himself from on top of you after a few breaths, immediately taking off your filthy underwear and exchanging them for your tiny bloomer shorts for you.

you allow him to care for you as you stare at the ceiling, your body’s sweat becoming apparent as you begin to mentally process the fact that you just participated in the one action you promised yourself (and andrea) you would not commit again. you feel weak and embarrassed where you’d normally feel bubbly and excited to get to spend time with matt after having sex.

you want to cry but you also want to yell. you want to tell matt that you wished he cared about you. you wish he would have called you again instead of taking random girls to bed. you wish he would look up from his fucking phone right now and see you pouting and saddened by what’s happened to the two of you.

you get up from your spot on the bed and walk across the room to grab one of the small pink whitney shooters lying on the dresser. as you twist the cap off you wish you were at home, with your kitten and your warm bed. matt watches you throw the shot back, coating your tongue with a sting and leaving your throat warm.

he slowly makes his way to you as you go to open the second shooter. he wraps his arms around your waist, “do you believe i missed you now?” he leans down to ask into the air next to your face.

you breathe out before taking the second shot silently, pinching your face at the awful taste.

“sunny?”

silence.

you finally turn to look at him, your eyes carry such misery that matt’s face changes from one of contentment to one of complete worry. “what’s going on?”

your mouth is downturned and your brain is foggy, “this is ruining me, matt. you’re not good for me.”

matt’s completely offended, “i’m sorry? did i just spend the last hour and a half with someone else?! what are you talking about?”

you look down at the red wood of the dresser you lean on for balance, “this all was a mistake, i can’t believe i let this happen again …”

matt can’t help but let out a laugh in disbelief, “what the fuck is happening?!” he’s concerned at this point.

“i can’t- like, explain. i’m just-” you’re the worst type of drunk at this point; you’re being a confrontational drunk yet you're too fucked up to make any sense out of what you’re trying to say.

matt rubs his head and grabs the final seltzer from next to you, “y/n,” you can hear the snap of the tab as he opens it, “should i take you to ‘drea?”

you crouch slightly and bury your head in your crossed arms, no longer fighting any tears that escape.

“baby, why are you cryin’? come here, hug me.” he taps your sides to get you to stand and let him hold onto you.

you reluctantly wrap your arms around his middle and allow him to caress your head. “i just don’t think we should do this,” you get out through a small sob.

“hey, i’m gonna get you home and then we’ll talk in the morning, okay?”

after a few moments and calmed breaths you just shake your head and remove yourself from him, letting his arms trail off of you as you walk away and grab your shoes off of the floor.

you stumble over to the bed to put the small kitten heels back on. matt watches you with his eyes and puts the slim can down before he moves close to you and squats down to be level with your feet, “are you sure you wanna put these back on?”

“i don’t need your help,” you mumble and push his hands away from your shoe.

“sunny.”

“matt, you can go!” you finally let out your frustration through yelling.

“sshhh, stop fighting me, y/n!”

you throw the shoe against the floor harder than you intend, “no! don’t tell me what to do. don’t try to treat me all fucking special i know those other girls might get jealous.”

“here we fucking go,” he sighs, “there’s literally no one else, y/n! i haven’t even talked to other chicks tonight, you’re the one who was all over someone else and i’m over that shit! we’re cool and we’re friends so there’s no fucking reason for you to be mad.”

your mouth is flat and your eyes squinted as you look down at him, “i’m talking about the ones you’ve been seeing over the past few months!”

“why’re you sayin’ shit that’s not even true?!” he’s stands upright, “i can’t deal with this shit.”

“i know it’s true!” your lips pout as you fight off crying again.

“no you don’t, because it’s not!” he walks away and begins to slip on his own boots.

“yes i do! chris told me you fucking idiot!” you point at him, letting tears pour once more. your face is crumpled and your eyes welled with salt.

matt shakes his head silently as he finishes lacing up his boots.

you wipe your eyes and slide your second shoe back on before frustratingly removing the bracelet he’d bought you only a little over a month ago for your birthday. you stand up and grab your broken lopsided angel wings from the bed, walking back over to him.

“you done?” he asks roughly.

“yeah. stay out of my life,” you coldly push the bracelet into his chest and move towards the door.

“don’t worry about it, sweetheart. don’t think we’ll need to be friends anymore!” he yells as the door slams. he looks down at the bracelet and runs his thumb over the inscribed frank ocean lyrics, then glances around at the poor shape of cameron’s guest bedroom.

“fuck!” he shouts into the air above him.

* bonus a/n: i know a party + hookup + fight sesh hates to see them coming😭😭😭. no but in all seriousness i can see the toxicity here, pls this is not normal and i know that! BUT their feelings are very complex towards each other and the idea of being loved which causes shit like this to happen to them. by the end of this story they will not be this toxic i promise growth to come lol!!!!

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