matty singing gf to sleep <33
When I tell you I was going to put cockwarming into this…
Unfortunately, I am shit at writing smut so this will have to stay fluff only.
I Like It When You Sleep
He carefully closes the door behind him and locks it, then sighs when he sees the time.
2 am.
He knows you’re a light sleeper and he has to be as quiet as a mouse, he knows you must have gone to bed a long time ago. So he quietly places his stuff in the living room and tiptoes to your bedroom.
He stops at the threshold and watches as the moonlight streams in and illuminates your side profile. He watches the way your hair fans out on the pillow but one strand remains stubbornly stuck to your cheek. He watches the rise and fall of your chest and tries not to linger too much on your curves.
It’s a warm night and the sheets are already bunched around your hips. Your tank top has ridden up to expose a sliver of your stomach and he has to resist the urge to trace his fingers over every inch of it.
Quietly he takes a step forward. If he can only stroke your cheek once, he’ll make do with it…
Pain shoots up his foot and a loud, involuntary string of curses leaves his mouth. He slaps a hand over his mouth and winces slightly but it’s too late. You’re already stirring.
‘Are you okay?’ you mumble into the pillow.
‘Yea, yea,’ he whispers hurriedly, ‘just stubbed my toe. Go back to bed!’
You, however, pick up your phone to look at the time.
2:09 am
‘Are you just coming home?’ you crack an eye open to look at him.
‘Um,’ he smiles guiltily, ‘yeah, just.’
He walks over to you and sits on the edge of the bed. He lets you wrap your arms around his waist and place your head on his lap.
‘You must be tired,’ you mumble into his stomach.
‘I’ve had a bit too much coffee,’ he confesses, running his fingers through your hair. He finally smiles when he brushes away that strand on your cheek.
‘Let me get ready for bed, okay?’ he asks and silently pleads for this moment to last a bit longer.
But it never lasts as long as he wants it to. You pull away with great effort and snuggle into the pillows once again.
He’s the one who has to wait a minute longer before he can actually start undressing himself.
The night is warm so he forgoes the t-shirt. He just lets his boxers rest low on his hips and gets into bed next to you. He pulls you close, murmurs a good night in your hair.
He closes his eyes and waits for that familiar feeling of heaviness to settle over his limbs but it doesn’t work. Maybe he did consume a bit too much coffee or maybe it’s because he can feel you restlessly twisting and turning.
‘Love…’ he sighs, ‘can you not sleep?’
He feels a bit guilty when you shake your head and pull closer to him.
‘Will you sing to me?’ you ask and he almost doesn’t hear it because of how muffled your voice is.
‘I mean, you don’t have to,’ you amend quickly when he doesn’t respond.
He doesn’t give you a chance to ramble further, instead, he takes a deep breath and starts humming a new tune.
There are words sprinkled in there every once in a while but they are unfinished and they don’t always rhyme. He hopes you don’t remember this moment by morning because this is a new song he’s been working on and he wants it to be a surprise for when he’s finally finished with it.
He gently lets his nails scratch your scalp and smiles as you shiver in delight. All the while he continues singing; some of his own, some of others. Wherever he can, he substitutes your name with the one in the lyrics. And although he’s fairly sure you can’t hear him right now, he knows it’s something you love during the waking hours.
Once your breathing evens out again, he feels himself getting sleepier. The singing has finally used up all his excess energy and now he just wants to fall asleep with you in his arms.
If he's lucky he'll get more than five hours of sleep but he doesn't fret much over it. He knows he's lucky in that no matter how little sleep he gets, he gets to wake up next to you.
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