Always Number Two (Matt Miller x Reader)

Chapter 5 ~ Fucking Matt (Not Literally)

I blinked myself awake. I was met, again, with a familiar face. Blue lipstick, black eyeshadow.

I was in his bed again. I guess it was only to be expected, as he did pick me up yesterday. But, still, he seemed almost peaceful when his mouth wasn't full of British pride.

He was still asleep- I could tell because he was breathing in my face. Awake Matt would know not to do that.

Sleeping Matt was stupid.

I raised my hand to hit him, but stopped. His eyelashes were really long. Like, freakishly so. Did he somewhat extend them in some way? I brought my face closer, examining his eyelashes. Did he take female hormones? He was quite feminine. And quite childish, as well.

We were nose to nose. His British levels remained the same. How long did it take for this asshat to wake up?! It's probably afternoon or something- there wasn't a clock in this room.

I remembered that Matt probably had a watch on his wrist. He was, after all, British. I moved my hand downwards, grabbing his wrist and pulling it towards me.

1:40 P.M.

How lazy was this guy? I mean, to wake up this late?

He stirred in his sleep, and I began to poke him repeatedly. Lazy, lazy, lazy, lazy.

It annoyed me.

He blinked. Well, he was awake.. that much was certain.

"Good morning... why are you so close?"

This fucking brit dares ask me that when he can't even get up before noon? Shame. Shame on him, shame on his family, shame on his horse, and more shame on his horse!

"Matt, could you be a doll and back the fuck up?" I said, as pleasantly as humanely possible. Fearing my fists of iron, Matt backed up to the point of falling off the bed, and squirmed on the floor uncomfortably. "Fucking seriously, Matt?" He shrugged.

This had to be the 7th time I've said this.

He was naked yet again.

Sleeping naked was uncomfortable. But Matt seemed to do it just fine. When the hell did he take off all of his clothing!? "Matt, when the hell did your clothing go missing?"

"Right after you fell asleep." He said quietly. He knows what he did wrong.

"You seriously waited until I fell asleep to get naked and crawl into bed with me?!" I yelled.

"I can't sleep with clothes on! Man was first intended to not wear clothing, as created by god!" Matt cried. I rolled my eyes.

"Don't use something you don't believe in as an excuse for your actions, Matt!" I jumped him, hitting him in the face. We couldn't stay together for more than a night until we started fighting.

He punched me back. "You're such a bloody dick!" He seemed pretty pissed, but I knew I hadn't pushed all of his buttons just yet.

"Your dick is such a bloody dick!" I retorted.

"I take very good care of my dick, thank you very much!" "He screamed back at me. We ended up getting in another fist fight. Matt had bruises all over, and a black eye. I had slight bruises, as I didn't bruise as easily as him.

"Well, I'm sure as hell not taking care of it for you!" I replied. Matt began to sputter, and turn red. He just sat on the bed, staring up at me. I moved closer, curiously poking his cheek, but there was no response from him. "Have I broken you? Shit."

He shivered slightly. "What is it about you that makes me like this?"

"Makes you like what?" I asked, confused.

"This!" He gestured to his red face. "You make me embarrassed! You're my prisoner, I should have this effect on you! I should look cool to you!"

A ringtone of a cellphone began to play. Matt almost tripped, getting off his bed. He picked up his cellphone, and I realized he had black nail polish on.

He was better at putting it on than I was.

He hit the green answer call button. "Yes, what is it?"

His face went down into a frown. "What?! The Saints did what?!" Matt seemed put off. He hung up, and dialed another number. "I need to see Phillipe. Now!" He quickly got dressed.

He grabbed my hand, and pulled me out of his room. I struggled a bit, but he glared at me, which meant that it was serious. We got in a car, that obviously belonged to the Deckers- the neon decals kind of gave it away.

We drove for a while, until we stopped at a tower. Matt dragged me to an elevator, where he hit a button and we went up. We were in some kind of posh room.

Matt began to pace back and forth. A taller, more muscular man entered the room, along with twin girls.

"Chill out, Matty." The tall man said.

"B-But, Killbane, this is serious.." Matt seemed... almost nervous. Like, fear-nervous. That wasn't even a thing. Matt didn't do this.

The doors open.

"The Third Street Saints are not a threat." The man said, with a thick Belgium accent.

"They've become at least a little of a threat." Matt slid his phone across the table.

Phillipe looked at it, with slight rage in his eyes. However, he was wise enough not to show it.

"You call this a threat?" He asked, looking up at Matt. "Meeting dismissed. Morningstar should have this perfectly under control."

He turned to the twins, and they nodded. He then turned back to Matt. "I trust the Deckers shall be our intelligence and backup? Make sure to have your Deckers watch the Saints 24/7."

Matt nodded, avoiding eye contact with Phillipe.

"And Killbane...provide them a challenge. Hit them with a couple men. Maybe even literally, no?"

~ Outside of the building ~

"What the hell was that, Matt?" I asked, annoyed. He hadn't been paying attention to me.

"If I get on their bad sides, then Phillipe or Killbane could possibly kill me, _____."

"Are all British people pussies?!" I asked.

"They could also take, harm, or kill you."

"You have good judgement." I said, agreeing with his be-a-wimp choice.

He pulled me into the car. "Come on, we're going home." I pulled back, and he turned to me. "Please?"

His british puppy eyes were too much for me to handle. I sighed, and got in the car.

"I've been thinking about this a lot, ___, and I..." His voice trailed off. That was a bad sign.

"Matt, just fucking say it already."

"That's exactly what I want to do!" He said brightly.

"You want to say something?" I raised an eyebrow. This fucking guy.

"I want to fuck you!" He blurted out. "Nothing romantic, just... my dick inside of you. You don't even have to do anything, I'll do it all!"

I swear to god, I was about to punch him. "No." I stated flatly.

"Can you at least blow me?" He asked. Those fucking puppy eyes.

"No!" I said, gritting my teeth.

"Then how about a handjob?" He begged.

"Matt!" A string of curse words left my mouth.

"You can just lick it a little bit?" He suggested.

"Matt, your dick is not a lollipop, and I am not a hired whore." I stated. He smiled.

"As your owner, I order you to bend over!"

This time, I really did punch him in the face.