#Adam Hann oneshot

[tonguepiercedanyway75]

Family bonfire // Matty Healy x Reader

a/n: send me more requests, I love nothing more :) also I know it’s getting warmer and summer feeling but this gave me an autumn vibe.

summary: Matty and you spend some days with your family in your childhood house. Not only the fire gets hot in the evening ;)

content warning: 18+ smut, fingering,idiots totally in love, unprotected sex

based on this request

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As the sun dips below the horizon, casting a golden hue over the kitchen, you stand alongside your mum and sister, watching through the window as Matty and your dad work tirelessly to prepare the bonfire.

Your two brothers are running around the pile of logs, doing anything else besides helping both.

Every time Matty comes back with wood, he searches for your gaze in the window and every time he can catch a glance, he does.

You’re doing the dishes with your mum, while your sister is just sipping her green tea. You try to suppress a little giggle when Matty tries to wipe away the sweat with the sleeves of his brown cute lumberjack jacket.

Your mum glances at you, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "He's a good one, isn't he?" she remarks, her voice soft with affection.

You nod, your heart swelling with pride as you watch Matty and your dad laughing over something. “He really is,” you agree, a smile spreading across your face.

Your sister chimes in, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “And look at them bonding over chopping wood,” she teases, nudging you playfully.

“Dad wasn’t this open when I brought my boyfriend home,” she states. Your sister is only two years younger than you but she’s with her boyfriend for 5 years now. When she brought him home, your dad was skeptical if he would be the one.

With Matty it was different. It’s only the second time you’re together at your home and your dad seems to really like him. He hasn’t said any judgmental comments or asked him thousands of questions, which is always a good sign.

“That’s probably because he realized that the both of you have made great decisions.” You laughed because it’s definitely not the truth. Your dad just found it easier with Matty.

Together, you watch as Matty and your dad continue their work until the logs are stacked up perfectly. “Finally, come and help me get the chairs out,” your mum says to your sister. She takes the last sip of her tea and hands the cup to you.

Both leave the room and only seconds later Matty comes in, pulling the gloves off his hands, laying them on the table. “Hey lumberjack,” you giggle.

“Lumberjack? More like fucking legend,” he jokes, lifting his arms to show his biceps, walking towards you. “Had fun out there, especially with you watching me like a stalker.”

His hands find your waist, the coldness of his finders radiating to your body. You smack his chest at his comment, rolling your eyes in mock exasperation. "Please, you were practically posing out there," you retort, a teasing glint in your eye.

Matty tries to act offended, placing a hand over his heart. "I'll have you know, I take my wood-chopping very seriously," he declares, his tone overly dramatic.

You just laugh and get yourself a small kiss from his lips, humming as you pull away again.

As Matty's hands rest gently on your waist, you feel a shiver of anticipation run down your spine. His touch both comforting and electrifying, his fingers tracing gentle patterns along your sides, sending tingles of pleasure dancing across your skin. “Should we join them?” He asks, nodding towards the laughing people outside.

“In one minute,” you argue, wrapping your hands around his back, hugging him.

Matty chuckles, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your lower back. "clingy much?" he teases, his voice playful.

You leaned back slightly, meeting his gaze with a playful grin. "Can you blame me?" You reply, your tone light but sincere.

His lips curl into a fond smile, his eyes softening as he looks at you. "Not at all," he admits, leaning in to press a sweet kiss to your forehead.

You keep your head resting on his chest, meanwhile Matty watches as your dad tries to light the fire, the wind being a huge obstacle. “As much as I’m enjoying this, think we have to join your family.”

You groan as he removes his body from yours, kissing your cheek one more time to try to make this separation easier. He intertwines your fingers, walking outside the kitchen to join the others in the backyard.

“Matty,” your dad tells, “mind helping me light the fire?” He’s kneeling with a lighter and some tinder, to light the fire.

“Of course not,” you watch as Matty walks over to your dad, kneeling as well, holding his hands in front of the tinder, to keep the wind away.

Your other sister walks towards you with her boyfriends arms around her. In her hands, it’s Matty’s acoustic guitar. You look at her, lifting your eyebrows questioningly.

“Mum wants Matty to sing for us later,” she laughs, knowing it’s a bit awkward, “here.” She hands you the guitar, the material almost slipping through your hand. You lay it down gently against the wall, walking towards the chairs around the fire.

-

It’s 8pm when you’re all sitting around the fire, hands reaching out to the heat, trying to ignore the cold wind through your hair.

You pulled your chair right next to Matty’s so you can nuzzle into his comfortable jacket. “I can give you the jacket y’know?” He chuckles, his arm around your shoulder rubbing soothing circles into your arm.

You feel a warmth spreading through you, both from the jacket and the comforting presence of Matty beside you. "Nah, I like being close to you," you say, leaning into his touch.

Matty's smile widens, and he squeezes your shoulder gently. "Fair enough.”

Everyone’s busy talking, your mother discussing something with your sister, in their own world.

The fire lights up Matty’s face, his brown eyes glowing in the darkness.

You rest your head on Matty’s shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne mingled with the smoky aroma of the fire. "You know," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, "my mum really likes you."

Matty pulls back slightly, a surprised smile spreading across his face. "She does?" he asks, his eyes bright with curiosity.

You nod, a fondness shining in your eyes. "Yeah, she said you're the right one," you admit, feeling a surge of warmth at the memory of her mum's words.

Matty's smile widens, a hint of emotion tugging at the corners of his lips. "Well, I'm glad to hear that," he replies, his voice soft with sincerity. "Because I think her daughter’s the one for me”

Your heart swells at his words, his head leaning down to give you a soft peck which follows by gagging sounds of your 13 year old brother. You just flip him off, making Matty giggle.

Some time passed, the crackling of the bonfire filling the night air, casting a warm glow over the gathered family. Blankets are draped over shoulders, laughter echoe in the darkness, and the scent of roasting marshmallows mingle with the crisp autumn breeze. It is a scene straight out of a storybook, where time seems to stand still and worries melted away in the flickering light.

After your mums request, Matty sits on a weathered log, his acoustic guitar resting comfortably in his hands. His fingers dance effortlessly over the strings, producing melodies that seemed to weave themselves into the fabric of the night. His voice, rich and soulful, filling the air as he sings ‘be my mistake’, each note carrying the weight of emotion.

You feel a lump form in your throat as you listen to the haunting beauty of Matty's voice. The vulnerability in his tone sending shivers down your spine, and you can’t help but be moved by the raw honesty of his performance.

Some times when you’re asleep Matty sits down next to you, to sing to you. Most of the times, it’s be my mistake and it’s definitely one of your favorites.

“He's incredible," your sister murmured in your ear.

“Truly talented," you agree, nodding in appreciation.

And when the song comes to an end, the silence that followed is filled with whispers of awe and admiration.

You lean in close to Matty, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. "You were amazing," you whisper, your voice filled with love and pride.

Matty smiles, his eyes shining with gratitude. "Thanks, love," he replies, his voice barely audible over the crackle of the fire. "I'm just glad I could share it with all of you."

It’s already pretty late, your brother’s the first ones having to go to bed and you can’t wait to finally leave as well.

As the warmth of the bonfire envelope you, Matty can’t help but notice how close you are every second. He leans in, a playful smirk playing on his lips. "You're awfully cuddly today," he remarks, his voice low and teasing.

His hand finds your thigh, squeezing it slightly, his touch driving you insane. You shudder and give him a look. “Matty,“ you mutter, trying to free your thigh from his grip but he’s very persistent.

You let your eyes trace over his profile; the strong, curved line of his nose, dark stubble that’s flecked with a little grey. He thinks it makes him look distinguished. He catches you watching him out of the corner of his eye and squeezes your thigh again, kneading the flesh there.

You shift in the seat, open your legs wider, encouraging him to move higher. You think about pressing your lips against the juncture of his throat, inching your own hand over the front of his jeans, wondering if he’s already half hard. “In front of your family?” He tuts, “you know better.”

You look around, making sure no one is aware of the scene, when you lean in, whispering in his ear. “Take me inside,” you lean back, watching his eyes go dark before whispering a quiet ‘please.’

You bite your lip, almost letting out a whine when his hands leaves your thigh, to run it through is curls. “Fucks sake,” he mutters, “you were the one telling me I need to behave, and what now?”

It’s true. Before you left the car you told him he cannot hit on you in front of your family and he didn’t but it’s slowly driving you crazy, missing his touch.

He turns his head away from you when your sister’s boyfriend starts talking to him about tour. It is the subtle tension in his demeanor, the vein pulsating on his neck as he speaks, that draws your attention.

With a sudden impulse, you reach out and gently take Matty's hand, guiding it to rest on your thigh beneath the cover of darkness. His fingers tighten around yours, a silent acknowledgment passing between you as his gaze briefly meet yours, a spark of understanding flickering in the depths of his eyes.

“Behave,” he whispers, when your brother isn’t looking, too busy searching for his phone. You just stick your tongue at him, making him roll his eyes.

You fake a yawn, followed by you standing up, grabbing Matty’s hand, forcing him to stand up. “I think we’ll head to bed.” Matty glares at you, shaking his head in disbelief, a smile never leaving his mouth though. You thank your parents for everything and say your goodnight when you finally make your way into the house.

“You’re unbelievable you know that?” He says, following you into your room. The second the door is closed, you press him against the door, crashing your lips onto his. You don’t let him say anything else while you get rid of his jacket and his shirt under, tracing your hands all over his chest.

“Christ,” he groans, feeling your hands squeeze his bulge, “what’s gotten into you?”

You lead him to the bed but as fast as you’re on top of him the faster he has you on your back. “Are you out of your mind?” You bite down on his shoulder, “baby-“ he groans, pushing your head away from him. “C’mon, you know these walls are thin.”

You groan, knowing he’s right and you definitely don’t want an essay from your parents about how you should act. “Then be quiet, it’s not my fault you decided to touch my thigh and give me ‘fuck me’ eyes.” You roll your eyes dramatically.

“Fu- darling, can’t even look at you anymore without you getting all hot and bothered?” He smirks, “besides, we both know you can’t be quiet.”

“But I can,” it doesn’t come out as convincing as you wanted it too and Matty just raises his eyebrows, “c’mon just try okay? And when I’m not quiet we can stop.”

You place a hand on Matty’s chest. It’s crazy, but you can feel his heart pounding; the heavy rise and fall of his breath. He looks at you for a second, his lips on yours again. His hands finding your zipper and button of your jeans, opening them. He removes himself from you, pulling your pants down in one swift movement, then your panties.

His lips scrape against yours, parting so you can slip your tongue inside. Your lungs have left your body, leaving a hollow space in your chest, making it impossible for you to breathe. You feel lightheaded. But oh, the way he’s biting at your lips; tangling a hand in your hair and pressing against you. His leg is between your thighs and you practically melt on it, trying to grind on it, but he holds you down.

“Where did your patience go huh?” Your legs open to wrap around his waist. Matty groans, wanting to feel friction as well, grinding into your core one time.

He brings a finger to his lips; fixes you with a gaze that shows he’s serious. Be quiet. “I love nothing more than hearing you moan for me, not tonight love, be quiet okay?” You nod and gives you a kiss for your understanding.

You throw your head back and close your eyes. If you look at him for another second, you’re not going to be able to stop yourself from moaning. Even with the simplest gestures, he drives you crazy. You feel Matty reach his hand down between your legs. “Fuck,” you whisper.

Two seconds in and he has you gasping for breath. If you were wet before, you’re positively dripping now. You dare to crack open your eyes. Matty’s face is stoic with concentration, fixating on you, trying to make you stay quiet, and you can’t believe how incredibly turned on it makes you. He bites his lip slightly, and you think you might pass out. Looking was a mistake, but you can’t tear your eyes off him.

“What am I gonna do with you?” His thumb is rubbing your clit, while his fingers pump in and out of you, leaving you gasping, suppressing your moans, “you’re dirty, can’t even stay a few days without me having to make you cum.”

You ride his fingers until you forget your own name, and you already feel the coil tightening inside you. You grab Matty’s shoulders, pulling him to lean down over you. He kisses you. Rough and sloppy and frantic. You let out the smallest whimper into his mouth as you cum, hard, clamping your legs around his fingers.  “Didn’t know you can fucking listen,” his words are mean, teasing but his kisses say otherwise, praising you for being good.

“You’d do anything to cum,” he gets up, undressing his pants and getting rid of his boxers, only to be on top of you after only seconds, “can stay quiet again right? Can show me how good you can be?”

He puts a hand on your waist to steady you, and you feel him line up with your entrance. It takes everything not to scream as he slides into you. “Shh, love, you were a fucking beg, now take it.”

The stretch is intoxicating. You haven’t even recovered from your orgasm, but just the sight of him pausing after he’s buried inside of you, needing to collect himself, breathing hard. It’s enough to make you ache. “Please Matty.”

Matty is fucking into you, careful at first to stay quiet, but getting sloppier every second. He can’t pull out all the way for fear of slapping too loudly against your thighs, but the result is an incredible friction that has you soaring. You grab at his shoulders, his neck, and Matty lets you. When the pleasure has you tear open your eyes, you catch him watching you again. Enjoying the way you fall apart on his cock. It makes you clench around him even harder, and you catch the faintest whisper of a curse fall out of his lips as he leans forward, dropping his head to the crook of your neck. “Fuck,” you half whisper, half moan.

His eyes shoot up, ready to punish you if you are loud again. “Fuck, fuck,” you whisper into his ear.

“You have a filthy mouth,” you moan at his statement, not being able to hold it in anymore and the second another moan threading to leave your mouth, a hand is slapped over your mouth, the side of it slotting just under your teeth. Your heart pounds as Matty leans in to whisper to you again. “Bite down if you need to, don’t make another fucking sound.”

He continues to thrust inside of you, his body somehow lowering to get even closer to yours. When he has gotten sufficiently near, he presses a kiss to the side of your mouth—now stuffed with his hand and leaking spit—and mutters something about how good you are for him, how nicely you fit around his cock.

Then he tilts his hips and proceeds to pound you into the bed like an animal in heat. Your ankles lock behind his back, and his nose settles next to yours, breathing hard.

He couldn’t be more in awe seeing you veer close to the edge, again. “C’mon, cum for me.”

Then, he doesn’t sink so much as simply collapse on top of you while you both kicked back and let the waves of ecstasy roll over you. You adore his warmth in spite of the heat practically suffocating you both in that car. Matty scrunches his nose up, ripping his hand out of your mouth, a bite mark very visible and some blood dripping down.

“Fuck, sorry,” you apologize, taking his hand, gazing at the wound you created. “Don’t be, did what I told you to.”

You reach for a tissue and try to clean his hand, Matty hissing every second the fabric touches his hand. “You’re a fucking bear with those teeth.”

You giggle, the sound is replaced by a whine when Matty pulls out of you. “Told you I can stay quiet,” you wink, pulling him in for a kiss.”

“We can be very lucky if no one gives us shit tomorrow,” it’s not regret in his voice but more like a thrilling sound. He loved the secret.

“Mhm, very lucky,” your sentence has a double meaning and Matty understands it immediately, laughing before grabbing his shirt, pulling it over your head.

“Your mind is in the fucking gutter love,” he walks to the drawer to but on a pair of boxers before picking you up. “Use the bathroom, I’ll be waiting.” You smile and waddle over to the bathroom, your legs still shaking and Matty watching you with a goofy grin on his face.

#the 1975 #ross macdonald #matty healy #george daniel #adam hann #the 1975 fic #matty healy smut #matty healy x you #matty healy fluff #matty healy x reader #matty healy imagine #matty healy oneshot #you do make me hard but she makes me weak

[wrestletotheground]

snap out of it - ross macdonald x reader

your boyfriend helps ease the tension when you're feeling stressed..

cw: 18+ minors dni!! smut, dom!ross, f!sub!reader, kitchen sex, fingering, d word, unprotected sex, p in v, orgasm denial, stomach bulging, squirting, degradation, lowkey kinda toxic but in a hot way <3

wc: 2.4k

~

you're walking- no. storming around the house like a raging bull. for what reason you don't even know. maybe it's the party you're hosting tomorrow, and the fact the house is an absolute mess.

you've woken up in such a mood, feeling like you're going crazy when every little inconvenience is piling up and fuelling the fire. there was no hot water in the shower, you burnt your toast for breakfast, and you're now running around in a frenzy trying to sort everything as if you're being hunted for sport. feminine rage, if you will.

you're muttering under your breath, picking through the piles of clutter in the kitchen when you're startled by your boyfriend placing a hand on your lower back. you jump, so lost in your thoughts that you didn't hear him coming.

'hi baby, whatcha doing?' he asks, wrapping his arm around your waist before you step away from him, rolling your eyes at his cheerful tone.

'ross, i'm sorry, I love you, but fuck off, I've so many things to do I don't need you distracting me, I've been cleaning all day and the place still looks the same and URGGH,' you practically scream, holding your head in your hands.

guilt washes over you, realising you've just essentially snapped at him over nothing, but you're too worked up to backtrack now. you continue what you were doing, ignoring ross' eyes burning a hole into the back of your head. you lift an empty wine bottle from the table to clear it away and start cursing under your breath when you notice it's left a stain that you're gonna have to sort out on top of everything else.

'darling you're too stressed over this, there's no need, just take a break and chill out, yeah?' rage pumps through your body. even though you know he's just trying to help, you can sense an undertone - an edge - in his voice that would usually have you on your knees already, but right now, you're in no mood for it.

'no, look, I've been putting it off it's just- there's so much to do, I'll be fine, okay?' it comes out more frantic and loud than you anticipated, making his face crease in concern. he puts a hand on your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks.

'look at me,' he orders. you sigh and turn to look up at him, heart still pounding partly from the stress and now also from the intense look in his eyes. his hands are warm and heavy on your waist now, gripping onto you like you'd float away if he let go.

'I'm gonna fuck you until you calm down and you can't think of anything else but my name, and you're gonna fucking take it'.

okay, maybe you are in the mood for it. your stomach flutters and you nod silently, feeling like a lamb under the thumb of a lion. his soft yet demanding tone always makes you so turned on you give in immediately. 'there we go darling, daddy's gonna make you feel better, hm?' he says as one hand comes up to wrap around your neck, pushing in gently.

that word sends a rush of excitement coursing through you, and you manage to get out a strangled mix between 'yes' and a moan. you'll be good for him if it's the last thing you do, and you're so riled up you're already starting to channel that rage into desire.

you go to start towards the bedroom before he grabs you roughly, stopping you in your tracks yet again. 'where do you think you're going honey? you're gonna take it here like a good pet.' his tone is stern. 'but the-,' he cuts you off by slapping his palm on the side of your jaw, grabbing your chin and forcing eye contact. you feel a pulsing heat building in your core.

'do what you're told or I'll leave you here, I know you're fucking soaked for me already, clenching your thighs when I haven't even touched you,' he smirks, and you flush when you realise you've been inadvertently squeezing your legs together in a futile attempt to relieve yourself.

the thought of him taking you right here in the kitchen drives you crazier than you'd like to admit. the big sliding glass door that leads onto the garden is only a few yards away, giving any nosy neighbours a full show, but he doesn't seem to mind and you're already too desperate to stop now.

he hooks a finger through the belt loops on either side of your jeans and uses them to pull you forward, making you stumble into him. 'take these off for me darling,' he orders, breath ghosting over the side of your face as he tries to keep his composure.

you fumble around with buttons and zips until they're pooled around your ankles, stepping out and crashing your lips onto his with one hand already gripping the hair at the back of his neck. your tongues melt together, pure lust radiating off one another.

he toys with the hem of your shirt blindly until you get the hint and break away from him to throw it behind you. his breath catches in his throat and he can't help himself from grabbing at your tits instantly, pupils dilated beyond belief as he stares at them in awe. you giggle to yourself, tracing your fingertips under his tshirt and up and down his sides.

he gives you a questioning look. 'you're such a boy,' you laugh. his stare intensifies. 'oh yeah? don't think a boy would make you feel like this, hm?' he replies, bringing a hand down between your legs to cup your pussy and dipping his index finger under the thin fabric, making you moan. 'see?' he whispers. you smile coyly and kiss him again, more passionately this time.

dripping desire pools in your underwear when he grabs you and walks you a few steps towards the kitchen counter. he turns you to face away from him and pushes down on your shoulders. you fold with his touch, straightening out your back as your chest and arms fan out over the cold marble.

with one hand pinning you onto the countertop, he uses the other to rip your wet underwear down, letting them fall to your feet before you kick them away.

goosebumps prickle across your entire body when his fingers graze over your soaked cunt. you spread your legs wider instinctively, allowing him easier access. 'so responsive for me,' he mumbles behind you. he leans over your back, moving your hair to one side to nip and suck at your neck.

without warning, he shoves two fingers inside you, making you scream out in surprise and pleasure. he instantly takes his hand away and you exhale sharply at the sudden loss of contact before it comes back to land a sharp slap on your ass. 'shut the fuck up screaming like some sort of crazy bitch, the neighbours are gonna hear you. don't want them to know how much of a little slut you are do we?' you shake your head too quickly in response, teeth digging into your bottom lip.

after a moment of letting you sit in shame, humiliation, he plunges his fingers back in; this time you know better than to make too much noise. 'good girl, I know baby, I know,' he coos, gazing down at your trembling figure as his fingers work in and out of you.

'mmplease, feel so good,' you whimper, your hips jerking into him every time his thumb swipes your aching bud. the need for release is all consuming. the effect he has on you is unparalleled by anyone else. the way he works you up so much just to watch you crumble and writhe under him is enough to make you submit to his every word.

every bend and thrust of his fingers is delicate and precise, hitting all the right spots to have you doubled over in ecstasy, leaning your whole body weight on the counter to hold yourself up. 'gonna cum, please, ross, SHIT- what the fuck,' you practically sob, your climax that was right at your fingertips being suddenly ripped away from you. the second he knew you were on the edge, he stopped, pulling out his soaked fingers and drying them on your back. your head drops downwards in frustration as the fuzzy feeling inside you dissipates.

'you don't get to cum until I fucking say so, got it?' you let out a strained 'yes' sound, more of a whimper than anything. you nod your head and let your eyes fall shut in relief when you finally hear the sound of his belt being unbuckled.

'need me to fuck you stupid so you can think straight don't you love?' he says, placing a kiss just below your ear as he pulls down the waistband of his boxers just enough to to free himself from the constraints of the tight fabric. you glance down behind you and inhale deeply at the sight of his raging erection, already leaking in his hand before he even gets you into position.

he hikes your leg up, letting it rest on his strong forearm, fingers gripping into the soft flesh inside your thigh. the air hitting your cunt makes you squirm, but you manage to keep your balance, aching for him to give you what you need.

he lines himself up and you feel yourself get wetter, dripping onto him in anticipation. he slides into you with no resistance, groaning at how wet and perfect you feel around him. the full feeling of his thick cock stretching you out makes you see stars, whining softly as he builds up to a delicious pace that practically splits you in two. 'fucking hell, so perfect, just for me,' he rambles, mind going into overdrive already. 'just for you, daddy,' you reply, knowing how feral that word makes him at the best of times.

you can slightly make out your reflection in the tiles on the wall. the distorted image shows him practically fully clothed and you bare, at his disposal to use how he wants. the sight eggs you on further, and you lean up into his chest, moaning at the new sensation of his beard tickling the side of your neck.

with the angle he's at now, he's going so deep inside you that his cock pushes out your lower stomach. you look down and nearly collapse when you see a subtle bulge just below your belly button disappear and reappear with every thrust.

ross notices it too, and trails his hand down your stomach until he feels it. something feral unlocks in his brain when he feels the bump protruding, making him groan into your ear and fuck into you harder, somehow even closer now.

'shit, you feel that? feel how well you're taking me angel?' he says, pressing in on the spot. 'fuck, yes, more, please, daddy,' you whine, gasping when he starts groping at your tits, his chin resting on your shoulder as he teeters closer and closer to the edge.

'more, huh? this not enough for you?' you shake your head, and you can feel him getting more riled up by your reaction as his cock throbs inside you.

the knot in your stomach tightens further as his right hand moves down to circle your throbbing clit. you cry out at the sensation of him all over you all at once, and it takes everything in you not to let your thighs clamp shut. his name echoes from your mouth like a prayer.

the pressure is steadily mounting inside you, and you feel like you could let go any second. 'close... mm-' he slaps his hand onto your cunt, just above where he's pumping in and out of you, making you whine. 'i told you, you're not gonna cum until I say, need to teach you some fucking manners, brat,' he punctuates the last word with another harsh tap with his fingertips before continuing agonisingly slow circles.

the sting of the slaps mixed with the soothing warmth of his touch sends you into overdrive. the cold countertop digs into your palms, using it as leverage to push yourself impossibly further into him, following his pace carefully.

'jesus christ, ross, fuck, please let me cum,' you moan through gritted teeth. you don't think you've ever been this worked up, with him denying you of your orgasm twice already. you feel wound up, like a ticking time bomb that could explode any minute, and fuck, you need to, but you'll strain yourself to the last second to please him.

your core is on fire, warmth spreading all over your body, you can nearly hear the ringing in your ears already and you're about to start begging again before he snaps you out of your head. 'go on. cum all over daddy's cock, that's it- shit,' he curses when you clench tightly around him, the coil in your stomach finally snapping. you cry out as you gush all over him, little squirts splashing from you onto the floor in time with his movements. you grab onto him, pushing his hand onto your clit harder to work you through your high, the head rush like nothing you've ever felt before. it's electric, like a static current washing over you as your whole body convulses.

when he sees the pool of your slick shining on the tiled floor, it's over for him. his groans get louder and with one final push and a 'FUCK,' he tips over the edge, pulsing inside you and painting your pussy white.

your head feels hazy as you catch your breath, slowly coming back to reality. you barely register what's happened with the euphoria lingering in your body. 'did I...' you look down at the mess you made and realise you just squirted all over the kitchen and desecrated ross' hand and jeans in the process. 'fuck, that was so hot, i'm- christ,' he laughs, his head dropping onto your shoulder in disbelief.

'thank you,' you whisper. the stress that's been weighing on your chest all day has completely disappeared, but you're so fucked out you can't find any more words. he lets out a breathy laugh and braces you as he pulls out gently, holding you upright as you stand on two feet again.

'you were right, I'm not stressed anymore,' you smile, placing a soft kiss on his lips before starting to redress. 'daddy's always right,' he teases, a cheeky grin spread across his face.

~

#runs away and goes back into hiding #ross macdonald #ross macdonald oneshot #the 1975 smut #ross macdonald x reader #ross macdonald fanfiction #ross macdonald smut #the 1975 #ross macdonald imagine #the 1975 fanfic #matty healy #adam hann #george daniel #not a huge fan of this but we move 💅

[orangeinecstasy]

ross boyfriend thoughts ฺ｡*:･

an: hey everyone! one person told me they wanted a ross bf thoughts and because i can't control myself and because i love him sm i did it! also i tried a new format, lmk what you think!

cw: fluff and smut sections

cute simple dates

i already know ross is such a big romantic and would do something super amazing, like plan a whole day for the two of you. but i just know that he loves the cute little dates that you guys do. like going to brunch or having a movie night-- he's pretty much putty in your hand at those points. even if it's something random, like the two of you being up late at night, cooking a meal together, and dancing around the kitchen.

remembers all the things you like and buys them when he sees them

once again, big romantic. if he's at the shop or even in a different country and sees something you mentioned liking or wanted to try he's, of course, buying it.

doing his hair

there have been multiple moments where you braided his hair just because you could. i'm sure he puts on a front where he doesn't want to do it but ends up loving you messing with his hair and how happy it makes you.

constantly wearing his clothes

he loves seeing you in his clothes and how comfortable and safe they make you feel. i know it just warms his heart knowing something so simple that he does indirectly can give you so much joy.

semi-frequent pet name user

i don't think he uses them a ton, like he doesn't force it but lets it happen naturally. definitely lots of "loves" and "babes". doesn't mind at all you using pet names for him.

little spoon lover

i can see him after tour is over and just wanting to be in your arms and have you play with his hair. you make him feel safe and comforted and seen and he's not ashamed about that.

cold winter mornings

on the balcony together having a smoke with a cup of coffee. his arms are wrapped around your waist and he's pressing your back closer to his chest to preserve the warmth between you. you guys chat about anything and probably end up going back to bed.

100% a he fell first and harder

you guys probably met through friends and you'd already known about him a little bit. of course your friend hyped him up before you met him and as soon as his eyes landed on you he knew you were the one.

treasures of yours with him all the time

this is more of an on-tour thing, but i feel like he keeps one of your hair ties around his wrist or a photo of you in his wallet. little things like that so that you feel close to him

smut below the pictures

size kink

he loves the innocence of it. how just because he's bigger than you he can overpower you in so many ways. how doe eyes look up at him through lashes like you don't know what you're doing. how he can grip both of your wrists as he plows into you. just everything about it makes him go crazy.

hair pulling

i think this one is pretty self explanatory. i mean how could you not when it's right there?

munch, duh

he constantly wants to eat you out to the point where it's become another food group to him. if he had a rough day or if you did. if he's bored. he could be in-between your legs for hours if you let him pulling every orgasm out of you until you're pushing his head away to stop.

pleasure/soft dom

he just wants to make you feel as good as possible as much as he can, to the point where he's accidentally overstimulating you. i have an inking that he feels a little bit guilty when he gives out punishments, but good pets have to learn how to behave, right? (once he sees how much you love it, the guilt turns into pleasure)

sir kink

i started off really simple. you asked you to do something for him and you responded with "yes, sir." and he felt something wash over him. you could feel the energy in the room thicken after that moment until he broke and fucked you over the counter until "sir" was the only thing you could say.

wax play

blindfolds you and ties you up so you can't pull away as he watches your body's reaction to him pouring small amounts of wax on your skin. especially loves pouring it over your tits so he can sloppily mouth it off.

choking

he loves seeing you sloppy and drooly and purring underneath him, and choking only allows him to see that even sooner.

possessive

this is in and out of the bedroom. though it's not in an aggressive way, he wants you to know he's yours and you're his, and he doesn't have a problem with fucking that knowledge back into you.

cockwarming

so so innocent. he just wants to be close to you. if you're doing something for work or if he's working in the studio he'll always make it an option. especially during late nights when you're both too tired to fuck but want to feel something.

#the 1975 #ross macdonald #ross macdonald fanfiction #ross macdonald fluff #ross mcdonald smut #ross macdonald x reader #ross mcdonald oneshots #ross macdonald fic #matty healy #george daniel #adam hann #ross macdonald imagine #still at their very best #satvb

[kate-inhaler-1975]

Under The Mistletoe 💋// dad!matty x Reader

Twelve days of Christmas - Day 3 ✨️

A/N : Finally doing a Christmas prompt 😭😭. Thank you to the incredible @abiiors for the effort you've put in creating these prompt ideas xx. (BTW, this is a part of the dad!matty universe, which I need to make a masterlist for)

C/W : none!!

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

*Rosie is about a year old in this*

"Just a little bit more to the left please, baby." I tried to direct Matty as he tried his best to perfectly align our stockings along the staircase.

I could hear the light sigh leave his lips and could picture the rolling of his eyes as his arms began to get tired from holding them up for so long.

Rosie, who was sat on my hip, copied her dad's dramatic sigh. Making me roll my own eyes jokingly.

"See what you've done! She's going to be as sassy as you if you aren't careful." I warned him, giving his butt a cheeky slap, making him flip up his middle finger in reply.

"Watch it." I mumbled, lingering beside him as he finally hung Rosie's stocking in the perfect spot beside his own one and mine.

"Ah Ha! Look at that. Perfection!" Matty stumbled down off the small ladder, standing back to admire his work and placing a kiss on top of Rosie's head.

"It's perfect. Thank you, my love." I smiled, leaning towards him so I could place a kiss on his lips.

"Dada" Rosie cooed in awe at Matty. Her pacifier falling out of her mouth and onto the floor, arms wide open for him to take her into his warm embrace.

"Oh, that is my favourite sound in the world! 'Ello, my darlin" Matty was quick to take her out of my arms when I passed her over, rocking her from side to side as her small hands cupped the side of his face.

"Dada! Dada!" She repeated excitedly, slapping her hands against his face.

"Ah! Don't slap, please. Gentle hands" I laughed, rubbing her back softly, her hands returning back to my face.

"You are just the best girl, aren't you! Oh, love, can you go get the camera from upstairs? I want to take pictures of you and Rosie." Matty asked sweetly. His shaking hands that held Rosie close to him catching my eyes immediately.

"Yeah, sure. But, are you alright? Your hands are shaking." I removed Rosie's hands from my face, concern washing over me.

"Huh? I'm fine! Guess it's just the adrenaline of Christmas, I suppose." He shrugged, letting out a chuckle that could only be described as nervous laughter.

"Ehhh, okay. If you say so."

I quickly turned and made my way up the stairs to get the camera from our bedroom.

I could feel Matty's eyes follow my every move until I was out of sight, making me feel slightly nervous.

All I could hear from upstairs was the noises of Rosie fussing and low mumbles coming from Matty as he tried to shush her. The two of them still clearly hanging by the stairs.

The sudden silence in the house didn't go unnoticed to me. Silence in our house was always a complete rarity, but it's especially rare now that we have a one year old.

"Matty! Is everything alright down there!?" I called down to him while rummaging through the top drawer of his bedside table for the camera.

No reply.

"Matty!? Sweetheart!? Is Rosie okay!?" I called louder this time, hoping he'd catch me calling Rosie's name and assume I was asking after her.

But the only thing I got was a loud and guttural screech from Rosie, which was an answer I suppose.

"Ah! Gotcha." I spoke to myself as I came across the retro camera.

"Took me a minute, but I found it." I announced while jogging down the stairs.

I stopped at the bottom step, confused as to where my two loves had gone, but the baby babbling noises coming from the living room reassured me they hadn't suddenly left the house.

"What are you two doing?....oh!" I spoke in surprise, looking at Rosie scooting on her bum across the floor, wearing a Christmas jumper she wasn't wearing when I'd left the room.

"Look at you, my gorgeous girl! Did Daddy put a Christmas jumper on you, huh?" I sat down immediately on the floor right in front of her, my hand gently caressing the top of her head while I stared at her in admiration.

Her big brown eyes looked up into mine, a wide smile showing her two bottom front teeth that were coming in.

I couldn't help but laugh at her gummy smile. Her smile, her eyes, her little rambles and her baby giggles totally intoxicating.

She had me and Matty wrapped around her little finger since day one. She was our special gift all year round.

"Now, should we go see where your daddy has gone off to?" I huffed as I got up off the floor, lifting her up with me and my eyes noticing the words on her jumper.

"Dada! Dada!" She screeched, pointing over my shoulder, but my eyes were fixed on her jumper. Trying to keep her as still as I possibly could so I could put the words together.

"Mummy, will you marry my daddy?" It read.

Oh....OH!

Without turning around, my brain filled with zero thoughts and words unable to leave my mouth, I put Rosie in her little play chair. Quickly strapping her in and planting a kiss on her rosy chubby cheek.

"Matty. If I turn around and you're behind me on one knee I swear to god I'll go feral." I warned, my voice quivering with emotion.

"Just turn around, darling."

So I did, slowly, not believing any of this was real, but there he was. Completely real, and human, on one knee under the mistletoe in the doorway of the double doors that led into the kitchen.

"Matty, I-"

"No, let me speak." He interrupted. Knowing I was about to go into a rant that would make zero sense in my emotional state.

I nodded yes, allowing him to go ahead and speak. My hands clasping over my mouth to shut myself up, tears already streaming down my face.

"Okay....Y/N, I've thought of multiple ways I could've done this. I could've taken you somewhere fancy on a romantic getaway, just the two of us. Or loads of lights and fireworks and candles, but I know you. All those fancy proposals aren't you. So that's why I did it here. Just me, you, and Rosie."

It was like on queue Rosie giggled, her feet kicking like crazy in her little moving seat.

"For the last six years you have given me everything. A life, a home, a beautiful baby. I know I'm not the easiest person to love, I really know that, but somehow you've managed to put up with all of my problem's and make them your own, and that to me is true love. So please, Y/N L/N, will you marry me?"

"Are you being serious? You want to marry me?" I whispered in disbelief. A part of me not being able to comprehend that someone wants to marry me.

Someone wants to be with me forever.

"Why would I joke about this. I've never been so sure of anything in my life."

Matty brought the neck of his jumper up to his face, wiping away the stray tears that streamed down his face.

The ring sat so elegantly in the opened black velvet ring box. The opal diamond, which is Rosie's birthstone, shone beautifully from a mile away.

"Matty....I....oh god." I sobbed happily into my hands. Continuously shaking my head in disbelief.

"You don't have to say yes, we can just forget about it if it isn't what you wa-"

"No! No, no, this is what I want. I want to marry you. I'd marry you tomorrow, I'd marry you next week, I'll marry you whenever. Jesus Christ, yes, yes Matty Healy I will be your wife whenever you want me to be!" I sobbed, running over to him and engulfing him in the biggest hug that I knocked him over.

The two of us crying and giggling on the floor, the ring still safely in his hand, thank god.

Matty wrapped his left arm around my waist, sitting the two of us up that I was straddling his lap.

"So....can I put the ring on you? Just to make it official?" He smiled widely. Eyes squinting and teeth showing.

"Yes. Yes. Yes." I spoke excitedly. Each yes being punctuated by a passionate kiss.

With his still shaky hands, he slipped the beautiful gold and opal ring onto my ring finger. My heart skipping a beat from a touch so soft and loving.

He brought the hand up to his lips, kissing the ring keeping his eyes on mine.

"Just the three of us future Y/N Healy."

"Just the three of us Matthew Timothy Healy."

Matty looked up above us, noticing the mistletoe that hung.

"Would you look at that. Ever thought you'd get proposed to under the mistletoe when we hung it up last night?" He smirked, his eyes watching my every move as I quickly got up to get Rosie.

"If you'd told me six years ago when I met you outside a pub in Manchester that you'd be the person I'd love for the rest of my life, I would've believed you." I smiled wholeheartedly, returning back to the floor with Rosie sitting on my lap.

"What? Really?" Matty was totally shocked by my words. Not expecting me to say that I knew he'd be the one.

"From the minute you asked me if I had a spare cigarette and I turned around to face you, there was no way I was letting go of you. Loving someone has never been easier. Falling in love with you and Rosie has been the easiest thing I've ever done in my entire life, and everyday I fall more and more in love."

"Stop it, darling. You're gonna make me cry again." Matty huffed, looking up at the ceiling to try and stop himself from crying.

"I think someone else is going to start crying if you don't give her her first kiss under the mistletoe." I chuckled, letting go of a squirming Rosie so she could go back to clinging onto her dad.

"Uh oh, we can't have little miss RoRo crying. Isn't that right, petal?" He tickled her chubby baby belly, making her roar out a laugh that had me and Matty laughing along with her.

Just the three of us. Under the mistletoe. My heart has never been so happy.

#christmas75 #12 days of christmas #matty healy #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fluff #matty healy imagine #matty healy oneshot #matty healy x reader #george daniel #the 1975 #adam hann #the 1975 oneshot #ross macdonald #the 1975 imagine #matty healy! dad #matty healy! dad oneshot #dad!matty

[tillthelandslide]

Same For You (5) : Changing Roads

Series Warnings: slow burn romance, eventual smut, age gap, complicated relationship (low-key unhealthy dynamics), eventual love...

Series Masterlist

Same For You (4)

Taglist: @scooby-doodoo @thereisaplaceintheheart @theoriginalwhatsername @eaglestar31 (if you want to be added please just drop me a message 🫶🏼)

a/n: here it issssss as promise.... managed to sort out the timeline error i made, part 6 is ready to post and by god its a good'n, i'll be posting it once this has 100 notes. Let me know what you think :) thank u for all the support so far, i love you all! - Lou

Her dark green guitar sat in its case as she carried it down the streets of London, eyes flicking in-between her phone and the cobblestones below her. She was trying not to trip over her feet as she walked faster than her feet would usually allow her. It was cold in London, but the sun was cutting through the clouds, soft rays hitting the ground below her, illuminating the dark stone floor. Crisp leaves of orange and brown and yellow, gently glided beneath her as her feet moved. When her shoes would fall against them they'd make a delightful crunch and she'd unknowingly smile at the sound.

Her phone rings in her hand, she smiles as she reads the name Matty put in her phone, rolling her eyes and reminding herself to change it (if not just to annoy him) she quickly picks up.

"Everything okay love?" She hears on the other side of the line, he sounds worried and she pulls the phone away from her ear, checking the time.

Shit, she was 15 minutes late.

Her happy bubble that this time of year created burst around her and pressure and anxiety crept in.

"Yeah yeah, um all good....I'm so sorry, I'm running late, I thought I'd walk instead of getting an Uber but... I'm a bit lost" she says, looking around her, trying to find something that would tell her where she was.

"Hey love it's okay. Just breathe okay? Send me your location, I'll come find you" he says. He finds her just over 5 minutes later, and she feels her nerves ease when she sees him.

He's dressed the most casually she's seen him so far, adorning a pair of black jeans and a black knit jumper, his hair not tamed by gel and sitting unruly on the top of his head. Of course he has a fag in hand, smiling as he walks towards her, he throws the cigarette to the floor a few steps away from her, opening his arms when he's closer.

She places her guitar case down and steps into his arms, sighing happily when he hugs her tightly. Her eyes squeeze shut, just wanting to be present with him, to be swept away in Matty, shutting the world out for a few moments.

"Hi sweetheart" he says, pulling back when he's done hugging her, still holding onto her shoulders gently. She wears a pair of blue wide leg denim jeans and she's wearing his hoodie under a long leather coat, which makes him smile widely. His mind floods with images of her, in his house, adorning that same hoodie or one similar, in his mind he's able to step forward and pick her up, her legs would hook around his waist as he spun her, she'd giggle and she'd pull away, and maybe... maybe she'd lean down and kiss him.

He forces the thought to the back of his mind, reminding himself that he couldn't think that way. It doesn't stop him from saying part of what was on his mind.

"Well don't you look adorable" he says making her smile. She looks down at the jumper, hands moving to tug at the hem of it.

"I figured wearing it was easier than carrying it" she explains and he nods. He watches as her eyes flick to his hair and she shows a toothy grin.

"I like this" she reaches her hand up to his hair, palm flat as she moves it across his hair, making him chuckle. She was surprised to feel how soft his hair was. He simply smiles, he doesn't thank her, his smile says it for him.

"Studio is this way, the guys will be joining us a little later" he says and she nods, he picks up the case for her, leading the way to the studio. The trip there isn't too far, a few twists and turns away and they're walking up the steps of the studio. Matty types in the code, allowing them into the building and he leads her upstairs into their own private room.

"I can take your coat if you'd like, it gets quite warm in here" Matty extends his hand, hoping she'd give it to him so he could see her clad in his jumper again. He can't help but smile widely as she slips it off and hands it to him, quickly retrieving her phone from the pocket before he takes it away.

He's in awe of her as she walks around the room, mumbling the name of the items, even the makes of some, standing before the microphone and gasping. He's entranced by the way he hair drifts behind her, as if it is failing to catch up with her movements. He finds the way her face holds a cute little smile endearing. He looks at her and he feels like he's known her for a lifetime.

"This is some fancy shit" he laughs at her words, coming to stand closer to her, overwhelmed by the way her scent occupies all of him, all his senses and the deep corners of his mind, she creeps in with it, seeping into his pores without an ounce of knowing... Unaware that she's doing it. But by god does she do it. She takes up all of him, and the guilt that befalls his being is too much of a burden to carry, so he pushes it down slightly (a lot), with the argument that he will deal with it later. The thought of how Ross would feel about this can be dealt with later. He knew his best friend and it was obvious he fancied her.

Did that make him a bad friend? He thinks, later he thinks.

"We only work with the best of the best here... Present company included" her eyes find his and almost glisten under the lights, taking his breath away. His eyes flick to her lips... No Matty.... Don't he thinks.

"Careful Matty.... I might think you're flirting with me" she wishes she would think before she thinks, they were the same that way. They acted on impulse sometimes.

I am, he thinks

There's a moment of silence from the man, a moment where she thinks she's nearly fucked it, but then he's laughing and she's smiling and everything returns to normal.

"Seriously though Matty, this stuff is impressive" she says, walking over to a piano that was positioned in the corner of the room.

"You play?" So far he had only seen her play guitar and he wouldn't have been surprised if she was multi versed.

"I do yeah... My big brother taught me when I was like..." She pauses, fingers drifting along the keys but not pressing down, eyes flicking up to Matty who was standing directly in front of the piano now.

"Four?" She questions, sitting down on the stool as her fingers finally press down on the keys and she plays a familiar tune. He chuckles and rolls his eyes as she begins playing 'The 1975' off of their recent album. She laughs and her fingers halt on the keys.

"Kidding kidding..." She then begins playing another familiar song, another one of theirs, "Mine". He watches her as her fingers move effortlessly across the ivories, gently caressing the keys as if they'd break if she'd apply more pressure. It somehow made the sound ring out more peacefully, a song that he wrote and already thought was quite sweet sounded sweeter when played by her.

Her eyes find his and she pauses, smiling a shy smile up at him, tucking a piece of hair that had slipped in front of her eyes behind her ear.

"Do you know my entire discography off by heart darling?" He says, voice full of awe and wonder. Eyes just the same. The pet name has her blushing and her mouth opens slightly before she forces herself to shut it again and answer his question.

"Maybe..." She says, giggling after her words have rung out, making him smile widely, a small crease appearing at the side of his lips on his cheeks, and his eyes almost sparkling.

"Sing me one of yours..." He leans against the edge of the piano, placing an elbow on the surface as his head fits into the palm of his hand, eagerly awaiting for her to play something. He looks like a kid like this, the sight makes her heart ache, she wish she knew him when he was younger, despite it being impossible given the age gap. She couldn't help but think they would've gotten along even as kids.

"Okay well... This is something I wrote with Jay, our drummer" she reminds him, Matty nods. The truth is, although he was sometimes forgetful,he wouldn't forget a single thing she told him, he couldn't, she had captivated him.

"Do you write with him a lot?" Matty asks out of curiosity.

"Not really... I mostly write on my own... Sometimes Clara and Abbie will help me with a verse or two. I prefer writing alone" she explains and Matty can't help but let out a little "oh" at the revelation.

"Why's that?"

"Less scrutiny I guess... It took me a lot to get to the point where I don't scrumple up the pages and throw them away... My lyrics make me cringe sometimes" Matty laughs as she does, not able to help the sound that comes from him, not when when she's laughing. Then he realises she's deflecting again and he frowns.

"Okay show me" he says and she begins playing a song. It's a simple melodic structure, quite bare and vulnerable. But he feels it doesn't need much else apart from that, not when she closes her eyes and begins to sing. Matty hears the door open and swings his head around to see Ross.

He's early.

He places a finger against his lips and ushers him inside. The tall man tries his hardest to walk quietly, flinching when a floorboard creaks. But y/n is too engrossed in her song to hear.

"I was a child of the night, Praying for a guiding light, Living in a world of black and white , I wish for the day that I might, Be set free and allowed to take flight" she sings, her voice is almost ethereal as she sings, it's almost as if she transcends to something more when she sings and they're more enthralled by it.

"The sky is turning grey, The stars begin to fade away, On the wings of yesterday, We are all condemned to fate, There's no hiding place in your grave" she finishes, fingers halting on the keys and eyes slowly fluttering back open. She almost swears when she sees Ross standing next to Matty.

"Wow" they both say in unison and she blushes deeply.

"Hi to you too" her words are directed at Ross and he smiles down at her. Her heart is picking up at the sight of him, and there it is again, Ross, taking over her entire being. Her eyes fall to those hands and she struggles to tear them away.

"That was amazing, really beautiful" his words have her blushing deeper and she looks away, feeling exposed under the both of their stares.

"Thanks" she says awkwardly, standing from the piano, walking towards the man.

"Hi" he says, looking down at her and placing his arms around her shoulders for a quick hug. They pull away far too quickly for either of their liking, but what with Matty staring at them, it had to be done.

"So what did you think Matty?" She ask, turning back to the curly haired man who still stands, mouth agape.

"I don't think it's going to get better than that... I think just the piano and your vocals is all that track needs" he says, his producer brain taking over and making her laugh.

"It was beautiful y/n" he then says, making her smile.

Her phone rings from where it's tucked away into Matty's jumper. Ross' attention is then drawn to the fabric, unable to help the unsettling jealousy that runs through his body.

"Hi Ab" he hears her say.

His eyes flick back to Matty, who takes in his best friend's look and frowns, mouthing a (maybe feigned) innocent "what?" to the man.

Ross simply shakes his head, looking back to Y/n who is talking on the phone.

"Oh really?" Her eyes flick to the guys and she pulls the phone from her ear "apparently Abbie, Clara and Jay ran into George at some coffee place, they're round the corner" she explains the both of them nod.

"Okay... Perfect... See you in 5. Love you bye" she says, hanging up after that.

"I'll go down to let them in, need a fag anyway" Matty explains, leaving the bassist and y/n alone. She walks over to her guitar case, unzipping it and carrying it over to a leather sofa in the studio, placing it in her lap.

Ross is still standing in the centre of the room and she can't quite sense how he's feeling, but his eyes are trained on her. She taps the space next to her, smiling up at him. He comes to join her then, watching as she tunes the guitar easily.

"Pretty guitar" he says.

"Thanks... My brother brought it for my birthday about 6 years ago" she explains "I had a light blue one before that... Still have it actually, just prefer this one... Feels more special to me"

"Seems like you're brother is quite the musician himself then" Ross says making her smile.

"Practically taught me everything I know... Apart form bass... As I said before... couldn't hack it" she says, strumming the strings to make sure it was in tune.

"I remember... Tiny hands" he says making her laugh again, his hand brushing against hers but not holding it. He couldn't.

"Is he good? Your brother?" He asks.

"Why? Scared he's better than you Macdonald" she teases. She doesn't feel a pang in her chest when she speaks about him, not like she used to.

"Never" she laughs at that, tilting her head back. He swears his heart skips a beat at the sight, her hair wafting against her shoulders and sending a wave of her scent his way. She smelt like vanilla and orange blossom and coffee and white flowers and fresh linen and something he couldn't pinpoint. Something he had never smelt before, something so uniquely her and he was addicted.

"Yeah he's great, taught me how to play piano and guitar... god awful voice though" she says, joking and making him laugh again. She swears she'd do anything to make him laugh, anything to watch the way his eyes crease and those dimples appear.

"We can't all do it all like you y/n" he says making her roll her eyes.

"Don't flatter me Macdonald... Give me your bass and I'll show you how bad I can be" a deafening silence rings after that as they both take in her words. Words that really didn't mean to sound so... Sexual. His mind clouds with sinful images, images of her, mouth agape, head thrown back, him in-between her thighs as her nails claw his back.

She can't help but imagine her on her knees for him, looking up at him through her lashes as he grips the back of her head. Considering the amount of times she had told herself that they couldn't, her mind clearly had other opinions on it.

Their mouths fall open for one second, two seconds, three seconds, four seconds. Before they're both clutching their stomachs as they laugh loudly, willing away the unholy thoughts they were previously having.

"I swear' she says in-between their laughter "I did not... Mean it to come out like that" the door swings open and the people at the door stare at them like they're crazy.

They try to calm themselves down, breathing heavily in an attempt to halt their laughter.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry" she says, finally managing to stop laughing and stand up to greet her bandmates.

"Hi" she says as she hugs them one my one. Clara and Abbie look over her shoulder to find Ross', raising their eyebrows up at y/n before she hugs them both.

"I've seen you've met Matty and George" she says and they all nod, Clara and Abbie both wiggling their eyebrows at the girl.

"That just leaves..." She begins, turning her body slightly to make way for Ross, but then he's right next to her, one hand on her back and one reaching out to shake their hands.

"Ross... MacDonald, lovely to meet you" he says, shaking their hands.

"You too mate" Jay says, smiling widely at him which shocks y/n. She shares a knowing look with the other girls and they shrug.

"Is Hann not here? Sorry... Adam" they hear Abbie say making them all chuckle.

"No, he said he'd be happy to help on any guitar bits if needed, but I think we've got that covered don't you?" Matty asks and Abbie smiles at him.

"I like you already" she says, stepping forward to clasp a hand around Mattys shoulder.

"Let's get started then" they all find a comfortable position round the room, talking amongst themselves for a few minutes.

Y/n watches as Jay finds his place behind the drum set they have set up in the studio and she feels happy when she sees George stand with him, watching as he does a few fills. Y/n can see that George is impressed and she smiles proudly.

When his eyes meet hers she mouths an "I know right" and then turns away from the both of them, allowing them to talk among each other and get to know each other more. Eventually Jay lets George take his place and show him a few things and y/ns eyes flick up, shocked that he's allowing it.

"That is not like Jay" she says aloud, Abbie and Clara agreeing. Matty and Ross both look at the girls confused.

"You'll understand when you get to know him..." They hear Abbie say as she tunes her guitar.

Y/n watches as Ross moves over to Clara and she hears them talking about bass stuff. She can't help but smile and feel thankful that so far this is going well.

She places her guitar down to remove the hoodie, now far too hot with all the people in the room, Matty pouts at her from across the room and she chuckles and she shakes her head, throwing it at him and making him laugh, the pout falling from his face. She's now adorning a simple black tank top and Ross' eyes can't help but drift over to her.

He literally has to shake his head to get his mind out of the gutter (again) but she notices and sends a smirk his way making him chuckle and shake his head again.

Her eyes are back on her guitar and she closes them for a second "get your shit together y/n" she thinks "you're working with them now, you can't keep doing this" she thinks.

"Ready"? She's pulled out of her own thoughts when a hand lands on her shoulder, she looks up to see Matty and she nods up at him.

They begin to talk through different things, y/n and the band show them some more songs and Matty, George and Ross give their input. Some ideas are loved, some are welcomed and some are discarded straight away with a laugh. They begin working on the song Ross remembers reading when he and y/n went and got coffee.

He learns that they titled it "changing roads". It's the first track they work on together and by the end of the day, it's recorded in its entirety, all edits made.

"Think that's the quickest we've ever finished a track before" Matty says, slumped against the black leather sofa. At some point Y/ns band slowly filtered out, having to attend their shifts at their day jobs.

"You know after this is released they're going to have to quit their jobs" she hears George say, making her smile widely.

"Hold your horses G... Don't get our hopes up" she says and she smiles, liking that she called him his nickname but also smiling because she didn't realise how amazing they were.

"I should really get going... Got a girlfriend to see" George says, standing up from his place on the floor, he walks over to her and she stands, meeting him for a hug.

"Don't forget how amazing you are... Also Charli wants you to come over for dinner" she smiles and hugs him again before he's leaving.

"Okay" she says happily, nodding up at him. He then leaves, leaving Ross, Matty and y/n.

Matty places a pair of earphones back on his head and asks her to click play again, wanting to hear the track once more. She leans over the sound board, clicking play, from where Ross sits,he snaps a picture of her and then of Matty.

She places another set of earphones over hear ears, moving to sit next to Ross who drapes his arm over the back of the sofa, where she sits.

The three of them listen together, all smiling sleepy little smiles as they listen to the track. She listens to herself sing and for once she's impressed by the sound of her voice, and the harmonies the band offer.

"You'll never stop these changing roads. This is the way our story goes" she hears Matty sing making her look over at him. His hands are crossed, held in-between his open legs.

"This is really good" Ross says, both y/n and Matty's head flicking to him, they both nod, they all smile.

She feels her stomach flutter, butterflies erupting. What was she doing?

© all lyrics are written and owned by yours truly (let's ignore the fact they're not that good but yeah) no stealing hehe

(6) The Dinner

#the 1975 #ross macdonald #matty healy #george daniel #adam hann #ross macdonald fanfic #ross macdonald fanfiction #ross macdonald the 1975 #ross macdonald x reader #ross macdonald imagine #matty healy oneshot #matty healy fic #matty healy x reader #matty healy x oc #ross macdonald x oc #the 1975 fan fiction #same for you the 1975 series #the 1975 series

[mybrokenveins3000]

He Likes Weddings - reader x Ross Macdonald oneshot

A/N: Here's some ridiculously sweet fluff for the broken Tumblr user's soul.

word count: 1.8k

♫ Kiss Me - Sixpence None The Richer

You're outside of the wedding venue standing on a bench. Your phone speaker is at full volume, and you're barely coping with the bad signal and the heat of the countryside.

"What do you mean you're not coming?" you sigh into the mic.

As a stream of apologies pours down the line, you spot a tall figure out of the corner of your eye.

He's dressed in a dark navy suit with his long dark hair tied up. He's doing a bad job of pretending he's not eavesdropping, eyeing you behind cigarette smoke. Despite his tough exterior and obvious nosiness, you figure it's difficult to be intimidated by a man with small, white flowers poking out of his jacket pocket.

"I don't care if something came up at work, this is the wedding of YOUR friends-- I DON'T KNOW ANYONE HERE!!"

You feel like those little, rich girls in Christmas movies who just want their dads to come home. But in this case, it's mid-July, home is the middle of nowhere, and dad is your disappointing, workaholic best friend.

"You know what, I'm just gonna go home if you won't--"

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

She hung up. Great.

As you lower your phone, you turn to face the audience of your little altercation, smoke escaping him as he laughs. It strikes you at that very moment how ridiculous you look, sweaty and flushed in your silk summer dress, standing on a memorial bench before a wedding.

He disposes of his cigarette as he approaches you. You get a clearer look at him and the situation - his pristine three-piece suit despite the weather, the pocket flowers, and what you assume to be a celebratory smoke before tying the knot. Fuck.

"Won't you stay?" he asks playfully offended, squinting as you foreground the blinding sun. He lends you a gentlemanly hand to help you off of the bench.

"NO! No, I am staying-- for sure!" you assure this man whom you've never met before in your life, hobbling off of the bench. "I mean, of course I'd stay for your wedding!"

"Sorry?"

"Congratulations! You must be so excited! Great weather too," you gulp.

His eyes widen in realisation, he cracks a slight smirk.

"Oh, darling, I'm not the groom"

You cock your head in confusion, eyes raking up and down his person, particularly the flower-pocket region.

"I'm not a groomsman either... I just really like weddings."

Now you're even more confused, but also pleasantly surprised.

"Well, in that case, I'll be going," you finally say, scooping your purse up from the bench, ready to walk back the way you came.

"You should stay," he exclaims after you.

"I don't know any of these people"

"You know me."

Oh.

He revels in the silence of your surprise. His eyes are like a child's, so persuasive and mischievous.

"And you are?"

"Ross," he extends his hand to shake yours, the same hand that helped you just a second ago, "I don't have a plus-one either."

Suddenly, the idea of this bearded, long-haired adult man getting ready for a wedding on his own flashes in your mind. Him excitedly putting on his suit and fixing his tiny pocket of flowers in the mirror. What a peculiar man. But you can't help smiling to yourself at the thought.

You hear the orchestra start up and people making their way to their seats from inside. You see bridesmaids and groomsmen assembling a few paces away.

He offers you an arm to loop yours into. Whilst you've rolled your eyes a record amount of times in your first few minutes of knowing this man, you accept his arm and walk into the venue.

---

You settled down next to him in one of the rows nearer to the back. Inside, it's beyond elaborate with flowers draped over every surface area conceivable to the human eye.

You glance over at him and he is so pure, so happy to be there. He is practically overflowing with excitement. The plan to go back home had escaped from your memory completely.

"You see that lady," he whispers to you, pointing at an older woman in a ridiculous bright yellow dress and hat combo, "that's the groom's overbearing aunt. All these flowers were her idea."

You give him a surprised, amused look, smiling at his knowledge. He winks at you.

"Ooh, and this one," he points to a man slumped over in the pews, definitely hungover, "that's the bride's ex."

"No way?!"

"Yes way!"

As more and more people file in, you gasp "oohs" and "ahhs" as you point at interesting characters and, like a human encyclopedia, Ross dishes back everything there is to know about them. This activity proves itself incredibly entertaining until the ceremony begins for good.

You absentmindedly brush dust off his suit jacket, straightening his tie and flowers whilst you're at it. If people were watching, you reckon they'd think you two were really together. You didn't mind that at all.

As the double doors open to reveal the bride, you see Ross' heart physically skip a beat. He's glassy-eyed, holding his chest where his heart is. He's more animated than the damn groom, you thought.

You find it endearing how he can look like the pinnacle of masculinity and yet fold so easily at dramatic displays of affection. Nothing could possibly ruin this moment for him, not the snoring from the hungover ex, not even the Nokia ringtone interrupting the officiator.

There were multiple instances during the ceremony where you thought he would crack. The flower girls and the father giving the bride away were moments met with a tear or two, much to your amusement. The vows were another honourable mention, of course. But it was the "I dos" and that final kiss that got him. How cliché, you laugh to yourself. And he's LOST it, hand over his mouth to stifle his lovesick cries. Your own hand over your mouth to stifle your laughter.

As the crowd cheers and hollers, him particularly louder than everyone else, you whip out a packet of tissues from your purse. He accepts them appreciatively, first blotting his face gently, then submitting to fully sobbing into the tissues.

You know you should be watching the happy couple, but all you can do is look at him.

Even though you just met, you are so certain you've never met anyone like him in your whole life. I'd never stay at a stranger's wedding for anyone else.

---

Having calmed this man down after the ceremony, you've been spending the whole reception by his side. The fact you've stuck right by this random man for so long feels like it should alarm you, but it doesn't. He seems to shine mingling with other guests with a glass of champagne in hand and eyes shining under the fairy lights, it's an image that you want to be familiar to you.

There's an instance where he finally introduces you to the newly married couple.

After a string of rehearsed "thank yous" from the couple, Ross beams "This is my date!", tipsy on his third or fourth drink, "We met this morning!"

"Ah, you must be the ACTUAL groom," you exclaim, shaking the groom's hand enthusiastically, much to his confusion, "HAPPY WEDDING!"

---

It's the couple's first dance, you and Ross are sitting next to each other, having moved his name tag to where your friend was supposed to sit. Couldn't think of a better replacement, no offence.

As the couple sway to a slow love song, you are surprised as, for once, his eyes aren't on the festivities but on you.

"Ross Macdonald, you're staring," you say as if you've known him for years, surpassing formalities and entering familiar territory.

You see him smile into his hand, eyes not moving. For a guy you've met only a few hours ago, you sure feel comfortable around him.

And, god, are you having fun.

Through slightly drunk vision, there's a vision, a daydream, of you and him dancing - you in white, him in the same, elaborate suit, same pocket of flowers, same enthusiasm. Rationally speaking, the thought is way too rash and inapt, but nice to think about under the warmth of his fingers playing with your dress.

"This is a very nice material," he mumbles. You lost count of the amount of drinks he's had.

"Am I going to be looking after you the entire night?"

"Consider yourself lucky," he smirks.

And you did. Consider yourself lucky, that is.

He plucks a flower out of the tiny bunch in his pocket and slides one behind your ear. His hand lingered against your face for a second longer.

"Beautiful"

---

It was an orchestra in the morning, jazz band in the evening sort of event. His suit jacket lay over your purse on your chair, empty glasses were strewn across your side of the table, and you're both destroying the dance floor. And you're laughing and shining with this stranger. There are not enough unafraid, unabashedly joyful men in the world, you think, the only one is spinning you around to a jazz cover of ABBA songs.

In a moment of dizziness, you fall backwards almost crushing one of the children, who was running around more so than dancing, but Ross catches you, holding you the dramatic, fairytale way.

"Hi!"

"Hi."

---

You find the pair of you sitting on that same bench you were stood on in the morning when you first met, which now feels like a lifetime ago. The jazz band is still playing away in the background, and you're both giggly from the excessive dancing and drinking, legs overlapping each other as you share a cigarette - you feel like a teenager.

"So, are you planning on tying the knot anytime soon? Have a wedding of your own? You clearly love them," you exhale the smoke into the midsummer night and pass the cigarette back to him.

"One day," he looks over at you, "if I meet the right girl," you glance right back at him. You both burst out in peals of laughter.

"You know what?"

"What?"

"You," you jab at him slightly feeling floppy, like your limbs are made of dust, "you are made for weddings, I even thought you were the groom!"

He gives you a look of disbelief, but you insist. He blushes hard as he exhales the white, romantic smoke. He passes the cigarette back to you, which is now stained with your lipstick. You could see a trace of it on his lips in the light.

After a final puff, you admit "I wasn't really a fan of weddings... not until today."

"Oh, really?"

"This is the first one I've went to that I actually enjoyed"

And it won't be the last, he wants to say.

"You don't believe in happy endings?" he says instead.

You're in this moment, suspended outside of time, in what seems to be an alternative timeline. You don't want to imagine how your night would look if you went home. Your life looks a lot different from this angle - it's about having fun, it's about saying yes or even:

"Actually, I do."

---

Friend: You're in the background of almost everyone's insta stories btw Friend: I thought you said you went home? You: [photo] meet my date You: aka your brother-in-law xoxo Friend: ?!?!

---

A/N: Guys, I hate to break it to you but I am feeling GOOD ABOUT THIS. This is VERY MUCH inspired by this particular blurb in the teacher!Ross universe by my friend and confidant @hypersonic04 because THERE NEEDS TO BE MORE FICS ABOUT ROSS AT WEDDINGS!! I went for a 2000s romcom kinda vibe. RIP if you're waiting on me to FINALLY graze smut/NSFW territory, I am a soft girl at the end of the day - sue me! Anyways, I really hope you enjoyed, love you forever!!!

#lol im in so much pain #ross macdonald #the 1975 #1975 band #fanfic #matty healy #adam hann #george daniel #matty the 1975 #asks #ross macdonald x reader #ross macdonald fic #ross macdonald fanfiction #ross macdonald imagine #wedding ross macdonald #wedding au #ross macdonald oneshot

[alovesreading]

'tis the damn season | Part 2

Summary: Christmas has been your favourite season since you met Ross MacDonald back in Year 9 when you had just moved to Wilmslow, coincidentally on the same road as him. He becomes your very best friend for the rest of high school, but when that ends, life happens and you just can't stop it. And life is certainly cruel to you and Ross. Every December is a reminder of it, somehow always bringing a chance to ruin things even more. After so many mistakes, how can you get back the times you've always cherished with the silly boy with the dimpled smile?

Word count: 12.7k

Warnings: the tiniest bit of angst.

A/N: Here it is! I hope this one makes up for that first part lolllll. Will warn you that there's a sprinkle of angst at the beginning though... Don't kill me *runs and hides* Anyway, enjoy!!!!!

Masterlist

Part 1

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

“Shit,” you curse under your breath when his words hit you harder than the cold winds of December.

But maybe it’s the realisation that you just know nothing about him anymore that hits you even harder than what he has just said or the cold weather.

Entirely aware of how bad it can look, you pout up at him and add with heavy sorrow for him, “Oh Ross, I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

“S’alright,” Ross says with a shrug like it is nothing.

Your brows furrow, half in worry he’s bottling everything up and half in awe of the way he can cope so well with the situation—you know you could never do it.

After last year’s horrendous holiday break, when you were on your way up to Wilmslow, you had decided on making things right by everyone this year. End 2009 the right way and go into the new year with the joy of grasping onto normalcy back in a place you held dear.

It certainly did help that you have your boyfriend coming back home with you. Not alone anymore, and feeling the deep excitement for him to meet everyone you loved so much in Wilmslow.

That’s why as soon as you had managed to escape your parents and settled everything down in your room, you left your boyfriend to settle down while you ran down the stairs and up the road until you reached Ross’ house.

You certainly hadn’t expected him to turn down your idea of a double date of sorts because he and Katie weren’t together anymore. You thought that when he said he wasn’t sure it could be done, it meant you would have to make a bit more of an effort to get Ross’ friendship back.

You’re deflated by the news, thinking about how sad you are that the gifts you had gotten Katie would not make it to her in the end.

“Who’s he then?” Ross asks with a raise of his brows, bringing you back out from your thoughts.

Your mouth opens as you try to answer, but you stupidly stutter before giving him a vague answer, “Oh, erm, a classmate.”

It isn’t like you’ve come here to dump about your relationship though, and the idea of pouring facts about your boyfriend seems like poor taste after what Ross has just told you. But Ross is kind and you know he’s asking because you obviously were excited for him to meet him if you had come here to suggest going out on a double date.

It is your turn to be kind to him after two years of ruining shit with your stupidity so you let him get out of it by letting him know, “I’ve asked Matty and he said it was fine if I brought him by on Boxing day so I guess you’ll meet him properly then.”

“Right,” he nods first, but when a beat of silence goes by, he adds, “Sure.” His lips are pressed tightly together, the corners of his mouth barely lift up when he tries to fake enthusiasm as he finally adds, “Can’t wait.”

You can’t keep to yourself the shock, or better said, it’s easy for your mum to get what you’ve just found out due to how awful you feel for reminding Ross of his recent breakup, one you had no idea about.

And another thing you’ve got no idea about is that, after you tell your mum how bad you feel about what had just happened, she called Ross’ mum and invited her over for Christmas dinner the following day.

A truly horrible idea that you scold your mum about when she tells you about it the morning of the 25th.

“Mum, what?! How’s it gonna help him to have dinner with us when he’s just broken up with Katie?!”

Of course, your mother is oblivious to what you mean, “He’s gonna have company! All of us together will make him happy!”

Unfortunately, you can’t explain what had happened the past two years, the way you had behaved, and how it seems incredibly unfair to have him have Christmas dinner with you and your boyfriend in the room.

So, to try and fix the mess your mum has unknowingly made, you take it upon yourself to make sure dinner doesn’t end up in a situation like the previous two years.

You keep the pda with your boyfriend to the minimum, make sure to include Ross in every conversation—basically spend most of the time boasting about the guys’ band to your boyfriend—, and keep asking Ross and his parents all about how they’re doing.

Ross is smiling and participating in conversation, which you really appreciate and you relax a bit halfway through dinner when noticing that Ross is doing far better than you had ever done with Katie.

And it’s then that guilt starts creeping back up.

But the thing that you don’t know is that Ross is just good at acting and putting on a smile, because seeing your boyfriend’s hand on your thigh all throughout dinner and the way he takes every opportunity he can to kiss your cheek, is killing him.

Ross gets it then. He gets why it had been so hard for you to keep your feelings to yourself back when you met Katie. Because he can feel that horrendous burn rising up his throat, burning in his chest every glance that he takes at you and sees that the reason for every smile and giggle is the lad beside you.

You have always had a hard time not letting your every thought show on your expression, Ross took the piss about it so often, though he really appreciated it because it meant he always knew what was going through your head.

However, he had the ability to hide everything behind a blank face or a half smile and not be questioned about it.

Exactly like in this very moment when he’s half smiling into his cup of cider as both your parents—as if they hadn’t met him already when they went down to London during summer break—and his parents grill your boyfriend with loads of questions that the poor bloke stutters to answer most of the time.

His fingers clutch the cup tighter every time he hears him call you baby, and he dies a bit more inside when he sees your boyfriend mumble “I love you,” in your ear when you come to his defence after your dad makes a stupid joke about him that has you gasping.

“Love you too,” you reciprocate and give him a quick peck to which everyone coos.

Everyone but Ross.

Ross, who settles you are both even now, who tries washing down the bitter taste of jealousy with more cider until your dad brings out a bottle of whiskey and opens it for everyone to enjoy, and it is then that the bassist starts gulping down the dark alcohol with an ease that your dad jokes about.

What he doesn’t know is that it burns every time Ross takes a gulp back, his throat raw and aching, but the feeling is just strong enough to overcome the horrendous way seeing you this happy and in love makes him feel.

Such an idiot, Ross thinks about himself. He’s an absolute fucking fool.

And then, your mum is calling it’s time for Christmas pictures and when you and your boyfriend go first and the first time your mum presses the shutter is when your boyfriend kisses you under the mistletoe, Ross can’t take it any longer and he excuses himself to walk back home alone.

It isn’t until he has thrown himself on his bed, groaning about how he feels like he’s gonna be sick all over his sheets, that he realises he’s walked out before even getting a picture with you.

Ross falls asleep thinking he needs to make it up to you on Boxing day when you bring your boyfriend over to Matty’s.

“Hope she isn’t too much of a handful,” George jokes when they all fall into easy conversation and banter with your boyfriend.

“She’s a good handful,” your boyfriend jokes, letting his hand fall down to your ass and squeezing it with eager fingers.

You gasp and push him off you while he cackles loudly, the room follows along. A choir of laughter around the place from the lads and their own girlfriends, though the deep rich laughter from Ross is missing.

Your gaze sweeps the room until it falls on him and you give him an apologetic smile. He offers you a tight lip grin and a shake of his head, like he’s trying to say it’s okay.

Nothing really is because with every minute that passes and he sees how well your boyfriend gets along with everyone, Ross dies a little inside. And, in spite of how lovely Boxing day is going, he can’t find himself enjoying the togetherness like he usually does.

An invitation is made for your boyfriend to join you for the gig the band is playing at a pub in Manchester tomorrow night.

Enthusiastically, you both accept and when you go back home, you can’t stop smiling at the prospect of these two sides of your life merging with an ease that makes your heart swell.

You’re early to the gig, since you had convinced your boyfriend to take the chance to go around Manchester before you were due at the pub to see your friends, and you chat with the boys as they set up in a makeshift stage.

At the start of December, their manager Jamie had founded Dirty Hit, a label of his own so he could finally sign the band himself.

You are so unbelievably proud of your boys, tears well up your eyes watching them perform flawlessly on that stage: smiling so hard at Matty’s passion when singing, the funny faces George has always made when playing the drums, the clever riffs Adam managed to play easily and, of course, the suave Ross had when playing that bass.

You, amongst the almost sixty people in that pub, are entranced by them and you sing along the songs you’ve witnessed being written, put together and practised throughout the years.

When they play ‘Robbers’, you can’t help but cry. The memories it brings to you are so overwhelming, your boyfriend ends up hugging you from behind to soothe you as you sing along to the incredible lyrics Matty had somehow come up with at 18, the summer before you went off to university, when everything was alright.

Ross catches a glimpse of you and his heart aches when seeing the tears rolling down your face. The hurt only gets stronger when your boyfriend is the one to wipe them off your cheeks.

He brings his gaze forward again but when he’s unable to clear his thoughts by focusing on a stranger’s face, he lets his head hang and his eyes fall on his fingers playing the strings of his bass.

The same one he had shown off to you the first time you had gone to his house on Boxing day and you stayed there, perched on his bed as you watched him show off his skills on the instrument.

Ross isn’t sure then how much longer he can cope with this, seeing you smitten with somebody else, craving their touch and not his, needing their company and not his.

He’s so relieved when you go back home with your boyfriend after the gig, swiftly getting yourself out of a night of drinks with the guys since you have plans for the next morning that you can’t get out of.

The hangover Ross nurses the following day is entirely worth it for he managed to drown his sorrows with alcohol without being questioned about it, he hid it behind being overly enthusiastic about a new year with a now signed band, the one thing they had been dreaming since they properly formed the band in 2002.

But it doesn’t matter that he had managed to conceal his real feelings and intentions behind drinking that night, for when New Year’s Eve comes around, he’s entirely transparent as he knocks back glass after glass from the moment you arrive at Matty's.

Unlike a year ago, it is time for Ross to get plastered since he’s totally incapable of coping with you being all over your boyfriend now that alcohol is in your system and, since you’ve seen Ross’ reactions for the past few days and you have assumed the bassist is entirely fine with everything, you don’t have to hold back anymore.

For a miraculous change, George is the one to take care of Ross when midnight approaches and he just can’t stay in the room to watch what he knows will happen the second the countdown reaches one.

Ross’ body reacts on its own when he hears the room he’s left erupt in a chorus of “Happy New Year!” and he rushes to the nearest bathroom to be sick when the ruckus of greetings change for one of whistles and teasing, a confirmation that you’re definitely kissing your boyfriend like you had kissed Ross all those years ago.

Hiding away in the bathroom, Ross spends the rest of the night there, sitting against the door and ignoring every knock and attempt of opening it.

He wakes up passed out on the bathroom floor the next morning, wishing he had drunk even more to forget why he had been drinking to begin with. But not even drinking more would’ve helped with him avoiding seeing you and your boyfriend cuddling on one of the settees when he walks out to leave the Healy's house.

When you come knocking on his door later that day, he groggily answers the door. Your goodbye hits him like a gut punch but, despite being sad about seeing you go, he can’t help being a little relieved his chest doesn’t have to ache to the sight of you in love anymore.

At least not until next Christmas.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

Around May of 2010 you graduated university.

That nightmare was finally over and the only good thing that had come out of it other than your degree, and the fact that you managed to land a job before graduating, was that you weren’t alone anymore.

Your mum and dad went down to London for the ceremony and it brought tears to your eyes to see them in the crowd as you walked onto the stage to get your diploma. Loads of pictures had been taken and though you felt elated, overflowing with joy, it wasn’t until you finally had time to check your phone and see the messages your friends from back home had sent you that you felt complete.

Adam’s message had made you coo and tear up, whilst George and Matty’s messages made you laugh like an idiot. Ross’ message had made you smile nostalgically, a tear slipping down your cheek when you had read it again.

Cannot believe you’re graduating today, sweetheart. So incredibly proud of you :)) You were always the smartest one of us after all. Hope you’re having the best time celebrating yourself today, you’re fucking brilliant Y/N/N. Love you lots, see you soon I hope xx

Truth was, your parents had invited him along but he had declined, excusing it on work and something band related that your mum and dad didn’t ask too much about. Still, they were sad they couldn’t surprise you with Ross’ presence on such a big day.

Ross had really regretted his decision when you posted a bunch of pictures of your graduation day to your Facebook page. Though, the ones where your boyfriend was right next to you reminded him just why he had said no.

He was a coward, he wouldn’t deny it if he were to be called out for it but he was doing it for the best of the situation, for the best of your friendship—or at least to the bits of it that still lingered to which he was holding onto tightly.

Because somehow, despite how the last Christmas time had turned out for himself, Ross found himself holding onto the hope that everything would be alright this year when you came back home for the holidays. And there was a little annoying voice inside his head that laughed at himself for it, but he was holding onto you desperately, like water in his hands, hoping you wouldn’t slip fully through his fingers.

So he had held on and on, day after day, onto that hope until December was around the corner and when a text of yours came through to the group chat you had with the guys, that hope plummeted down and shattered on the floor.

Guys I’ll be spending the holidays in London so please don’t worry about a present for me this year. I promise I will make this up to you very soon!! Miss yous so much and love yous even more!! xx

The first feeling that shows is sadness. Ross frowns, reading your message over and over, his heart sinking and settling on the pits of his stomach as despair overcomes him. He really had spoiled the only chance he would get this year of seeing you, just because he hadn’t really wanted to see you with your boyfriend again.

But now, all he can think is that he’s willing to endure that horrendous jealousy and anguish just to see you again. And he’s especially desperate because it's Christmas! It’s your time of the year, your and Ross’ time, or at least that’s what it had always been until 2007.

Ross wants to pull his hair out of his head then, not only dreading having to spend this season without even seeing you from afar, but just from being reminded of how this will be the fourth year in a row where something has happened and shaken the dynamic you had shared and cherished since 2002.

And then, nosy Matty asks why you’re staying in London because it’s certainly very rude of you to abandon your best friends in the entire world to spend the holidays in the south—that’s exactly what the curly headed boy sends on the group chat.

Which prompts you to answer with a string of laughing emojis and then the truth: you’re spending the holidays with your boyfriend’s family this year.

Reading that message is what turns Ross’ sadness into anger in a split second.

Because you’re breaking the promise you had made before you left for uni, the promise you had swore to never break when Sara, Danielle, and Jodie eventually did.

Hope is gone. A tiny lit flame that has just been blown out and there’s nothing left of it but the string of smoke rising up into the air.

Ross knows this is it then, the end of it all.

He could’ve never predicted it would take eight years to lose you entirely, and he sort of wishes he could warn his past self so he could shield himself from anything he could develop for you when you first met.

He chucks his phone somewhere on his bed, fully ignoring any other messages coming into the group chat afterwards.

Nothing mattered anymore.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

It certainly is a shock to see you walking out of the house when Ross is walking back to his from the shops.

Matty had sent him out to buy decorations for the New Year’s Eve party because, suddenly, he decides the party needs to be a proper one with decorations and props and cone hats and silly 2012 shaped glasses that definitely don’t look feasible to look through.

So he’s toying with the frame of one of the glasses, thinking about how quickly 2011 has gone by, when he sees you walking out of your house with a skip in your step.

Since there was no message on the group chat, he didn’t really know if you were coming back home or not.

Not that he cared.

At least, that’s what Ross had been telling himself.

But it’s clear he indeed cared because when your eyes fall on him and a gorgeous smile breaks on your face, there’s a hint of relief that floods his system.

“Ross! Hey!” You are wary of the distance that’s there between you, not only physically because he’s still yet to cross the road towards you but also emotionally because you two haven’t spoken at all in the entirety of the year.

Well, you had if the short birthday messages you sent the other counted.

“Hi, Y/N. Y’alright?” he finally asks when he crosses the road and stands just a few metres away from you.

You nod, “Amazing. You?”

“Pretty good.”

You hum because he doesn’t sound so sure about it. Your eyes fall on the bag in his hand, catching the look of the New Year’s themed goods.

“Those look nice. Matty’s decorating this year?”

Ross chuckles softly, “Yes, apparently the party needs to be proper from now on.”

You snort at that and roll your eyes at the image of Matty saying that in your head. He was so annoying, you truly adored him. “Ha, right. Well, I’ll see you then!”

Wow what a good lengthy chat, Ross thought sarcastically. Still, he didn’t let how that made him feel show. With a soft smile, he nods and says, “See ya’,” before resuming his walk and making it back home.

He makes a great effort not to look down the road to see where you’re heading. That quick, awkward chat is enough to know where you stand and in what state your friendship is. Gone.

Ross comes to terms with the fact that it just will never be the same. It’s all gone: you, the holidays you’ve grown to love, all the traditions that only entailed the two of you.

It hurts his chest and he wonders if it hurts yours as well.

He doesn’t even see you the day after, on the 25th. There’s nothing delivered to his house—your mum had done it the year before, but the lack of it this year meant the official loss of that tradition—and since your boyfriend and his family are over at yours, or so Ross’ mum told him, the MacDonalds leave your family to it and don’t interrupt by sending anything over to your house.

The next time Ross sees you is at Matty’s on Boxing day, which goes as smoothly as it can. It’s only refreshing to have the rest of the boys there along with their girlfriends, and little Louis Healy is a funny distraction from the turmoil that clouds Ross’ brain when in the same room as you and your boyfriend.

When New Year’s Eve comes, alcohol makes for that miraculous distraction instead, but this time he’s more careful about it. Not blacking out but, instead, numbing himself with every drink until the countdown happens and seeing you and your boyfriend sharing a passionate kiss doesn’t make him want to run into oncoming traffic.

You leave on the 3rd of January this time, giving your boyfriend’s family and your own time to enjoy the start of the year together.

This time, when Ross answers the front door after hearing incessant knocking and he sees you standing there with a soft smile and a goodbye on the tip of your tongue, saying goodbye back feels more significant.

As he says goodbye, still half hiding behind the door, it feels like he’s bidding farewell to your friendship and all you two ever were.

What you never had been.

Ross wonders then if things would’ve been different if he had done something about the two of you when he kissed you under the mistletoe in 2006, how you two could be in such a different place if he had made a move after kissing you when the clock struck midnight at the very start of 2007.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

The first week of August 2012, the first official music project by the band came out. It was a bit odd knowing the boys had an official name now, but The 1975 sounded fucking brilliant—you had assured Matty of it when he sent you a picture of it freshly tattooed below his Mortal Kombat tattoo saying that he had gotten the new name tattooed so he wasn’t allowed to change his mind anymore.

You had gone to the closest HMV to your office and bought the CD, sending a picture of it to the guys on your group chat and gushing over how fucking good it was after you had listened to it four times in one sitting.

And you had gone just as crazy when November rolled around and on the 19th the Sex EP came out. A quick message was sent in the middle of your short lunch break, you’d written it with the biggest smile on your face.

Holy shit guys, that was incredible!!!! I’m so unbelievably proud of yous :’’)) Who would’ve thought you’d go from changing your band name every other month to having two stunning EPs out!!! I need yous to sign my new CD!! Cannot wait to see you brilliant, talented lot on Christmas. Love youuuuu!!! xxxxx

It was odd that after all that time, Ross could still hear your voice in his head saying all that while he read it. Like he just can’t truly let go of you, and a flicker of hope that still lives inside him then becomes obvious, he can’t help but think, maybe, just maybe, you won’t miss Christmas at home this year like he’s been expecting you to all year long.

It felt almost like he had been holding his breath since that notion became apparent in his mind, the anticipation of not really knowing if his hopes were gonna lead him to be disappointed or if he would actually be right.

Ross lets out a sigh of relief when he walks out of his house and he catches a glimpse of you walking in through the front door of your parent’s house with a bag in hand.

He’s not aware of what he’s doing until his quick strides lead him all the way up to your front door and he’s harshly knocking on it.

You’ve barely been able to shout hello to your mum, who’s upstairs, and let your dad take your bag up to your room when you’re startled by the knocking.

Turning around on your heels, it’s merely two steps you take until you can grab the handle and turn it to open the door and show a speechless and surprisingly enthused Ross bundled up in a cosy flannel coat and a beanie, the tip of his nose tinting pink from the cold, and his cheeks matching the shade.

Your eyes widen at the sight of him. You have no idea why he’s just standing here, how on Earth he had managed to know exactly when you would arrive or if he had been expecting you, but you can’t stop the need to feel him closer than this the second you see him.

Basically throwing yourself into him, you gasp and wrap your arms around his waist, his arms coming to envelop you in a hug over your shoulders and you melt into him completely.

“Oh my god. I missed you so much,” you whisper into his ear.

His heart squeezes in his chest, leaving him weak enough to admit, “Me too. So much.”

He knows it’s not time for inquiries but he’s honestly taken aback by the fact that you’re here so his questions leave him without him wanting them to, “Are you okay? How’s London treating you? How’s your boyfriend, is he spending it here again?”

Those are heavy questions, lots to explain that just leave you without a word to utter. Except for the last question. That situation’s status was clear enough that you pull back and take a deep breath to be able to answer through the pain of thinking about it, “No. Ermm, we broke up.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t–,” Ross starts apologising but when he sees your chin start to wobble and tears filling your eyes, he pulls you back into him as he says, “Don’t cry, C’mere.”

“It’s all my fault,” you can’t help but admit. Not really about the breakup, that was certainly not your fault if you looked at the bigger picture, but the horrendous pain that fills you when you think about how your attempts to fill the emptiness from being away from home had crumbled down and left you feeling even lonelier than ever. You shake with a sob in Ross’ arms and admit, finally, “I hid so much from you guys.”

The confusion in his breathy, “What?” is clear and you know this is the right moment to just come clean about everything, before this opportunity leaves you like a train does a station.

“Do you…” you sniffle as you pull back to look at him.

God, you must look like a mess and a right idiot. Ross thinks that despite how his heart is breaking seeing you this upset, he’s never seen a person more beautiful.

“Do you wanna come in?” you suggest, thumb pointing behind you into a house he hasn’t stepped foot inside since Christmas day 2009, 3 years ago. “I feel like I owe you a lot of truths.”

Carefully, he nods and that’s when you put your hand out for him to hold and walk into the house.

Electricity runs to his fingertips where he holds you, painfully aware of how your absence has made your proximity now erupt a wave of feelings inside him that he had thought were gone.

Once he’s inside the house, you close the door. He expects you to guide him to the living room but, to his surprise, you take him up the stairs and into your room.

Even your dad is surprised to see Ross in the house after all this time for he stops in his tracks when he sees the now very tall lad walking hand in hand with you on the way to your room, which he’s leaving after leaving your bag neatly on top of your bed.

“Oh hello, Ross. Missed seeing you around here, kid.”

Ross smiles but before he can respond to your dad’s greeting, you speak out, “Thanks for helping me with the bag dad. I’m gonna chat with Ross for a bit if you don’t mind.”

Your dad notices the tears in your eyes then, with the slight waver of your voice so he knows this is a serious matter and he nods, giving you both a smile before walking past you into his room where your mum’s still hiding. She must be really entertained with what she’s doing since she hasn’t run to your room to crush you in a hug like she always does, but you won’t complain right now because it seems like everything is about to spill out of your mouth.

Closing your room’s door behind you, Ross makes his way into your room when you drop his hand. He sits at the edge of your bed and you do the same, looking into his eyes for a second before letting your gaze drop to your lap, where you fiddle with your fingers nervously.

A sigh leaves you.

This is it then.

Looking back up at him, you take in his worried expression and start telling him everything. How you knew university would be hard from the very second you moved into your dorm. How you had been so horribly homesick, you got depressed and had to talk to a therapist on campus for quite a while. The amount of times you had thought of dropping out throughout the first year, but had refused to come back home empty handed and regretting giving up when you have always been academically driven.

And how, despite your efforts, the second year had been just as bad.

You couldn’t make friends but not by lack of trying, it was harsher in uni to find people you felt in tune with when everyone was so focused on themselves and the groups established there were far more stronger than in high school; so many people knew each other from school already, it felt like trying to be friends with them was causing a disturbance to their friendships.

And then you came back to London from Wilmslow, that time Ross had told you to go back and you had left right after the gift exchange at Matty’s, and you met this guy. He gave you just the amount of attention and kindness to lure you in and grow attached to him after craving proper human connection for so long.

He had become your boyfriend easily, because he gave you attention and made you feel needed, despite both of those notions having meant in a sexual way more times than not.

It wasn’t the best relationship and you knew that, but you would take anything, even if faulty, just to not feel alone like you had the two previous years again.

So you made due with what you had and fell in love with him, though you knew he didn’t feel the same as you did, and if he ever did say it was just because he wanted to keep you. For convenience really, because if he said he wanted you, you would drop anything for him, even if you didn’t want to say yes, you did because you feared being left alone.

And then he realised he could make you stay by reminding you how badly you had been going through it before he appeared into your life, and now you could point out how emotionally manipulative he had been, but right then, it had gone right past your head.

That was why it had been so easy for him to cheat before you two graduated, and it had been even easier for him to get you to forgive him. He would say you wouldn’t survive without him, without his love, without his presence in your life; he reminded you just how far away everyone was, how you had lied and kept things to yourself so no one worried and how selfish of you it would be to call and talk about yourself and your issues which you could resolve easily, just by forgiving him and taking him back.

So like a brainless fool, you did.

And then you graduated and you moved in with him, and though you had a job of your own, he convinced you to do everything for him. His kisses, the sex, the cuddles, him making time for you, it all was your reward. Showing you affection had become a reward for you keeping the flat clean, cooking meals and paying half the rent, it had become something to exchange for your efforts rather than something that came with a loving relationship.

You knew he had cheated at least twice after that first time but kept quiet. You knew, but the only thing you could do was ask him to wear a condom every time you fucked, just because that was the last bit of love and concern you had for yourself.

That was until a few weeks before your birthday, when you got off work early because you were feeling a bit poorly and the feverish, dizzy feeling that overcame you was enough for your boss to send you home immediately.

It had been nothing compared to the feeling that washed over you when you quietly came into the flat and walked blindly down the hall to your bedroom, only to find your boyfriend balls deep in some girl.

Your horrified gasp and confused mumbling wasn’t enough for him to stop, instead he kicked you out of the room and you left running back to the living room where you stood almost dry heaving as you replayed the moment over and over again, wanting to be sick but not being brave enough to walk up to the bathroom with how close to the bedroom it was.

Still, he took a fair few minutes to come out of the bedroom and face you. From what you heard, you knew he hadn’t even taken the consideration to stop and had chosen to finish before he could even begin to explain what was going on.

Not that it needed explaining, really.

But it was the absolute lack of remorse in his face when he came out to the living room that brought you out of the hypnosis he had caught you in for so long. The fact that he hissed through his teeth why the fuck you had come home so early. The fact that he sounded more apologetic to the girl than to you, his girlfriend of three and a half years.

And it was the realisation that you would rather feel this hurt because of breaking up with him than because he was trying to convince you that it had been nothing and you could forgive him yet again.

So you did. You broke up with him that very second. Going to the bedroom, which made you feel even more disgustingly nauseous, you quickly packed everything you had there in a big suitcase you had thankfully kept. All that you had in there as best as you could and the rest shoved in a big bag of yours that didn’t fit inside the case.

You had felt more alone than ever, without your boyfriend—ex-boyfriend now—, without any friends because all of your friends had been his first and you knew he would manipulate them enough to make them switch on you the second they found out, without a roof to live under.

But you felt free, oddly, and it was that which drove you to call up one of your co-workers and ask for their help.

Emma was the sweetest and let you stay in her flat for the week and a half it took you to find a place you could rent. You hadn’t been exactly choosy with it, just going off necessity and settling for the better most convenient option, both for your pocket and the proximity to your job.

So you were now living in some shitty flat in a very unsafe area in London, but it was close to the tube station and it was only a thirty minute commute to your office, which you were growing to appreciate.

It was the fact that for the first time in a while you felt like your own person that made you smile on the daily.

And now the fact that you had finally come clean about everything to one of the most important people in your life.

Ross is speechless. He’s lost his breath with every bit that you’ve told him, and yet the way that you fully leave him stupefied and unable to breathe is the smile that you give him when you’re done with your story.

That toothy grin he has missed so much, accompanied with your tear stained cheeks and glassy eyes.

His heart is utterly broken for you, someone so beautiful inside and out being absolutely destroyed and mishandled by people who never appreciated you for who you truly are, stuck in a situation that you kept shut because you’re selfless like that.

Ross feels like his heart had been shattered in a million pieces, but he feels a new wave of heartache when he remembers how cruel and unfair he had been to you when, unbeknownst to him and everyone else, you were going through such a nightmare.

He wants to bang his head against a wall.

But not more than he wants to crush you in a hug and tell you it’ll be alright now.

So he does.

His arms feel heavenly around you, melting into his chest and hiding in his neck comes to you like second nature just how it had always been back then, before everything happened.

You can’t help but cry, and though some of your tears come from the ache in your chest, most of them are spilled because you feel relieved that you can shed yourself of the weight of everything that you’ve been keeping to yourself, relieved that you can mend things back home and you can try and get back those friendships you have always cherished.

Ross doesn’t let you go, not when you calm yourself down and stop crying, not when you yawn and rub your tired eyes, not when it starts getting dark out.

He’s hesitant to let you go when you go to move your bag out of your bed so you can lay down. But he follows when you pat the spot next to yours on the mattress.

His arms wrap around you and he pulls you closer to him. You two haven’t done this in so long, it’s hard to even point out when was the last time you cuddled, but your legs tangle with an ease that makes your heartbeats stutter.

With eyes fluttering as you two succumb to slumber, the last thing you remember before falling asleep is the feeling of Ross’ lips pressing on top of your head.

“I had missed this,” you admit groggily when you wake up to his fingers rubbing circles on your lower back.

The darkness of your room envelopes you like a blanket, pale moonlight sneaking through your blinds to give you the faintest bit of sight.

You can barely make out the dimples on his cheeks as he smiles down at you with a puffy face and sleepy eyes, “I missed you.”

Whole. That’s how you feel when he says that with a warm conviction that melts your insides. You hum, “Yeah. Me too.”

A knock on your door makes the two of you look in the direction of it, and slowly peeling it open, your mum peeks her head through to smile at you.

“Haven’t seen you like that in ages,” she recalls with a coo. “You two are so grown up now.”

You smile just by remembering the pictures your mum would take of the two of you cuddling on the settee after falling asleep watching a film. The nostalgia makes you wish she would take a picture right now just so you could compare it to them.

“Sorry to interrupt darlings, you two look cosy, but could you do me a favour?”

That’s how you end up at the shops with Ross, giggling as you walk through the aisles trying to find the things your mum had forgotten to get on her last shopping trip for tomorrow’s dinner.

It’s hard not to get distracted when you walk around, seeing all the Christmas sweets and treats, even harder when Ross makes you laugh as you go about the place and you keep forgetting what it is that you’re looking for.

“Hey, you better not forget these,” he jokes, grabbing a bag of potatoes that he ends up placing in your basket.

It’s hard hugging Ross goodbye after you come back from the shops and put everything away together, but it makes you so incredibly happy to know that it feels normal again—your arms around each other feel like finding your way back home after getting lost on the way.

You go to bed feeling content, the smell of him lingers on your pillows and you nuzzle your face on them with a loopy smile on your face.

It is when you wake up and go downstairs for breakfast that you properly feel giddy, though, because your mum tells you she called Ross’ mum and they had agreed to have Christmas dinner together.

A loud kiss is smacked on your mum’s cheek at the news and she smirks as she looks at your dad when you run to the kitchen to see if you had all the ingredients to make some type of dessert, leaving your coffee to get cold on the dining table.

Having the MacDonalds over is a joy, as per usual, with Ross’ mum being the loveliest person ever and Ross’ dad making you all laugh hysterically, dinner goes wonderfully.

Everything’s tasty, warm in your bellies and your hearts with the hours you all spend together. Nothing feels more right than this very moment.

And then your mum springs up her chair and calls, “Time for pictures!”

Just like you’ve known to do since the very first time, you and Ross move to the bottom of the stairs right beneath where your mum always hangs the mistletoe. The sight makes Ross smile brightly, his eyes crinkling at the edges and dimples pinching his cheeks beautifully.

Your mum frowns at her film count on display as she takes the camera close to her face, “I’ve got one in here, so I’ll take the first and then go get another pack of film to take the rest.”

You bite your tongue not to smile too brightly when it reminds you of a certain moment, years ago.

As your mum takes the camera up to her eyes, Ross wraps an arm tightly around your waist, fingers digging on your clothed flesh as he presses you flush to his side. You wrap an arm around his waist and just as you’re about to rest your head on his shoulder to pose for the camera, your heart begs you to do something else.

You turn to look at him and pucker your lips to press them on his cheek. Your mum captures just the moment bliss breaks out on his face, melting his smile into a parted mouth as he exhales a sigh in content at the feeling of your lips on his skin.

The second the whirring of the polaroid printing out sounds, you pull back and he peels his eyes open to look at you with adoration, or so you think from the way his brown eyes gleam as he looks into yours.

You have to separate when your mum walks in between you to run upstairs to get some more film, all the while she’s shaking the just printed picture in her hand.

Suddenly, Ross blinks and he’s back in 2006, when your mum was making a mess upstairs as she looked for a new pack of film and he finally got the courage to cup your face and actually kiss you under the mistletoe like he had been wanting for so long.

It’s a memory that flashes on both your minds in that moment, and it’s written all over your faces.

Your mouth parts in anticipation and he carefully brings up his hands to your face, holding it delicately as he starts leaning in.

It’s stupid, and maybe way too fast on his part but he can’t have you looking all beautiful standing in front of him and under the mistletoe and not kiss you. You’re magnetising and he can’t fight the power you have over him, he’s so entranced he just wants you close.

This time it is different, it feels more intense. Not desperate, because the second your lips meet in the middle, it’s not like you lose control and try to quicken the kiss. It just feels way more intent, it’s deliberate and with so much more meaning now. You have each other back and the pieces of the puzzle fall into place perfectly just like the slotting of your lips together.

You’re the one to deepen the kiss as your tongue pokes out to tease his bottom lip and you lick into his mouth when he parts it to welcome you.

A hum reverberates through his chest when you taste each other, and he swallows a soft moan that you let out at the feeling of his beard brushing against the soft skin of your face as you two move rhythmically in a kiss that leaves you dazed.

When Ross pulls back, your breaths mix as you pant out, lips so close together, noses brushing. He drops one last peck on your lips before saying, “Had to do it properly.”

Your mum’s footsteps echo through the hall as she dashes back downstairs with a new film pack in her camera, ready to snap away.

In the pictures you can clearly see your swollen wet lips, but no one comments on it when your mum lets you two see the results of the quick photoshoot she’s just thrown for the two of you. Heat rushes up to your face, just like Ross'. You almost wanna coo and pinch his cheeks at the sight of him flustered like that.

It’s fair to say you’re both incredibly smiley when you go back to the dining room to share hot chocolate and the cookies you had made earlier. You half regret not making the same ones you had made the year you had met Ross, but it’s all fine when Ross says, “Delicious as always, sweetheart.”

You wanna pounce on his lips when he finally goes back to calling you that again.

There’s no way you can stop your lips from falling into a pout when it’s time for Ross and his parents to go. You almost want to convince them to stay a bit longer but you already had and they’d stayed an additional hour than they’d planned.

Ross’ mum and dad hug you tightly, wishing you a merry Christmas and saying that they hope you like your present, as if you haven’t loved every single one they’ve ever given you throughout the years.

When it’s time for Ross to hug you, he makes it a show of almost crushing your bones as he does so. Swaying in your place, your parents laugh behind you as the two of you cling onto each other like you haven’t done in years.

Neither set of parents have it in them to tease or complain because they’ve missed witnessing it.

But perhaps, the biggest shock of all is that when Ross pulls back after wishing you a merry Christmas, he presses his lips on yours on a sweet chaste kiss that makes the four adults around you loudly gasp and, therefore, make you and Ross become flustered like a pair of kids caught holding hands in the playground.

And just like a kid, Ross peels himself away from you and quickly escapes back home with his parents following behind him, leaving you foolishly stunned and wide eyed.

When the front door finally closes, it is your mum saying, “Finally!” that makes you snap out of your trance.

The loopy smile stays on your face as you open presents, though.

Blindly, you pick up your phone when it rings on your bedside table the next morning. You don’t even read who it is as you answer it so your shock makes you open your eyes wide when you hear Ross’ voice on the other side of the line.

He says he’s been texting you to ask if you wanted to hang out, and truthfully you just wanna sleep in a little longer, but you also wanna have his presence.

Who says you couldn’t have both?

You let him know he can come over, whispering as you tell him to ring you when he’s outside because your house is quiet as your parents still sleep.

He surprises you when he says he’s already at your door.

With your eyes still heavy with sleep, you make it downstairs, still in your pyjamas, and when you open the door, you grab his hand to drag him upstairs and into your room.

There’s not even a chance for him to greet you with a hello when you get back in bed and lift the sheets on the empty side for him to get under them and join you.

Ross doesn’t take more than a few seconds to take off his shoes and shed himself off his coat, getting in your bed and wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you into him and let you cuddle yourself into him.

You basically sleep until your stomach growls as you become hungrier the more you’ve been ignoring it most of the morning, pushing aside your basic human needs to stay a little longer in Ross’ arms.

He brings you the cookies that were left from yesterday in a little plate and a glass of water, at your request, whilst you go to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

When you come back into your room, you shove one cookie into your mouth before starting your gift show and tell.

A warmth spreads through the both of you as you show him the most mundane and unimpressive gifts you’ve gotten, except for the pretty little necklace his parents got you of course, but it makes you laugh how since the last time you had done this, your presents went from an iPod mini, books and pretty dresses, to a pair of fuzzy socks and a set of floral pattern baking utensils.

You finish getting ready after you show him your presents, and he watches your every move attentively from your bed, which he has made very quickly before throwing himself over it again.

He grabs a pillow and places it over his eyes when you go to lift up your pyjama shirt, it’s not like you haven’t changed in front of the other before, but it’s been so long that he feels the need to offer you privacy.

He hears you snort at him as you sort through your wardrobe for a shirt, a jumper and a pair of jeans. And he smiles into the pillow when you mumble, “Silly,” as you finish buttoning your jeans.

“You can look now,” you say as you finish putting your shirt on.

And Ross catches a glimpse of the skin of your stomach when he lowers the pillow back onto the mattress.

He shifts from his side to his front to hide the way you affect him. He would’ve put the pillow on his lap but it would’ve been too obvious. He hopes he has a second to adjust himself without you looking when you’re about to leave.

You offer him the biggest of smiles before turning to look at yourself in the mirror and fixing your hair, putting a bit of makeup on your face to look decent for when you go to exchange gifts with your friends at Matty’s house.

Ross is entirely entranced watching you through the mirror, he can’t stop thinking about how he’s always thought you were pretty. But somehow, with time, you’ve only grown more and more beautiful.

As if that was even possible.

You’re just unreal, truly. He can’t understand the mystery of you. And he doesn’t really need to, all he wishes to do is to witness it.

When you go downstairs, Ross follows behind a bit slower since he stayed hidden behind your door adjusting himself for a few seconds while you went ahead, you shout to your parents that you’ll be going to Ross’ and then Matty’s so you’d probably come back home after tea.

They say, “Alright, have fun!” back and you’re off.

But not before Ross catches your wrist before you can walk away from the bottom of the stairs.

You stumble into his chest and he swiftly cups your jaw, tilting your head in the perfect angle for him to lean in and catch your lips in a soft kiss that steals your breath away. It’s slow and delicate, like he’s taking in the way your lips slot perfectly together, trying to memorise how your mouths move with each other.

You’re speechless when he pulls back, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth before he points upwards, “Mistletoe.”

A scoff slips past your lips. “Didn’t know you were such a rule follower,” you tease. He’s so smooth it makes you want to scream.

He shrugs, “Depends on the rule.”

Despite the fact that you assure Ross’ mum that you’ve had breakfast—Ross snitches on you saying it was just cookies and a glass of water—, you’re fed a healthy amount of leftovers for breakfast the second you walk into the MacDonald’s home.

Only thirty minutes later, you’re upstairs in Ross’ room with a mug of hot chocolate as he shows off the gifts he got this year. Which, again, makes you laugh because it’s yet again more proof about the fact that you’re too old now and all you get is adult gifts.

You can’t help but snort when he shows off the beanie and scarf your parents got him, but ultimately admit he looks adorable all bundled up in the matching cotton set.

He wears the beanie proudly when you both walk up to Matty’s, while you have the scarf wrapped around your neck after you quickly snatched it from his room before leaving his house.

When you get to the Healy residence, it’s enough of a shock to see the two of you arriving at the same time. George is the one to ask with a frown if you had walked up there together and you nod with smiles on your faces.

Matty elbows Adam when he notices your accessories match.

The curly headed boy really tries his best to hide his curiosity but he can only last fifteen minutes into the catch up you’ve all fallen into before he asks, “Where’s your boyfriend?”

It’s a shock when you nonchalantly answer, “Oh, we broke up.”

And even more of a shock when you beam after the words leave your mouth.

Ross smiles just as big, proud of you for being so strong about that situation. No one really knows about it and it shows. Yes, you had been confiding in Matty about your struggles feeling extremely lonely in uni but you had never told him the reality about your boyfriend, knowing damn well how it looked that you got into that relationship because you were so desperate to feel something.

You had so much to tell everyone, but this wasn’t the time. Not yet.

The change in the dynamic between you and Ross is obvious, especially after consecutive years of clear, growing distance in between the two of you. But no one comments on it because they don’t want to disturb the return of a friendship that had been, from the very beginning, the core of the unity of your friend group. Even if the girls aren’t here celebrating with all of you anymore, Ross and you had been the ones to bring all of you together once upon a time, and it’s certainly refreshing for the boys to see that restored.

So when the New Year’s Eve party comes around, the group is a little more rowdy and you and Ross don’t stray far from each other’s side.

It might be because it feels like you’re all back in 2006 when you were still in high school and nothing had changed just yet, that Matty and George cause more and more ruckus. It’s certainly entertaining to watch but when George is stopped by a drunk Hann from doing a frontflip from the top of the stairs, and possibly breaking his bones, Ross pulls you outside for some peace and quiet as it’s really close to midnight.

The cold air makes you shiver and sobers you up a little, but god bless Ross MacDonald for offering you a cigarette then.

You place it between your lips and let him light it up, he struggles a bit with the strong wind but you help him by cupping your hands around the end of the stick.

Taking a long drag, you let the smoke in your lungs start to relax you and bring you the warmth you so desperately want right now.

The mess going on inside is still loud despite Ross closing the door, and suddenly, the memory of that 2006 New Year’s Eve night comes flashing back to the forefront of your mind.

“This is giving me some serious déjà vu,” you say as you hold in the smoke for a few seconds before letting it out upwards.

He knows exactly what you mean, he’s been thinking about it from the second you stepped foot in the house, but he still plays dumb, “Hmmm, really?”

You nod, taking a drag before saying, “Yeah. If I remember correctly, it was 2006 and we had come out to escape a very drunk Matty and George thrashing everything inside so we could have a calm countdown. We were sharing a fag, and the countdown started.”

As if rehearsed, you hear drunk voices loudly starting to countdown from ten inside the house.

Ten, nine, eight…

“And?” Ross pushes you to continue.

Biting your bottom lip, you try your best to hold back from smirking as you casually add, “And I said happy new year.”

He hums, “Not forgetting something?”

“Am I?” you play dumb, holding the cigarette between your fingers as you look at him.

Seven, six, five, four…

He turns to look at you, taking one little step towards you to invade your space, and nods, “I reckon, yeah.”

Your brows furrow and you cock your head to the side as you feign confusion.

“Mind refreshing my memory?”

You don’t have to tell him twice.

He pounces on your lips harshly, and it’s this time that desperation shines through the movement of his mouth on yours. His tongue doesn’t waste a second to slip past your parted lips and he groans when he tastes the tart tobacco on your tongue along with the vodka cranberry you’ve been having all night.

His trimmed beard itches your skin in a way that drives you mad and you can only think about how you would really like to get used to it. Your mind betrays you thinking about how it could feel brushing between your thighs, your arms swing around his neck and your fingers run up his scalp, making him moan into your mouth.

Three, two, one…

Your lungs burn with the lack of oxygen and you pull back, panting, but a smirk doesn’t fail to break on your face and you breathlessly quip, “Ah yes, I remember now.”

Your cheekiness has him groaning again before he dips back for another kiss, his arm wrapped so tightly around your waist that you’re pressed impossibly close to his front, you cling onto him just as passionately and let everything you’re feeling in the moment show through the way your mouth moves along with his.

Revelling in the taste of him, the feel of him.

The two of you tune out the loud drunk voices wishing each other a happy new year on the other side of the door.

“Happy New Year, sweetheart,” he says against your mouth when he pulls back slightly.

Your breaths mix, becoming one as you try to get back oxygen into your lungs. Your nails dig into his scalp, wishing for there to be a way for you to melt into him. You can think of a few ways you can even come close to becoming one with him.

Your pupils are blown when you open your eyes and look into his, “Happy New Year, Ross.”

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

The pride that swells your chest every time Ross sends you a picture of a place he and the boys are touring is impossible to explain with words.

You burst into tears every time you talk about your talented boys travelling around the world after the hit their debut album had been. The scolding you got for missing a day of work to go up to Manchester and celebrate their first number one album was definitely worth it, for celebrating their talent and the success they deserved was one of the best fucking days of your life.

After a few months of touring, the boys have finally come back home for the holidays. The 17th of December they played their last gig of the tour in some festival in Virginia, and on the 18th they had come back to their shared flat in Manchester.

So you were up in Manchester too.

“Love, you need to dial it down on the speed,” you tell Ross when you come back into the kitchen after taking your stuff to Ross’ room.

The second you got to the flat, you had been greeted with loads of hugs and kisses from the boys and far too many stories for you to hear in one afternoon. Your bag had been left forgotten by the door where you dropped it when George came running to crush you in a hug that you welcomed gracefully, and then the rest of them followed.

Ross had been quite distracting with the amount of kisses he stole before the guys gagged enough times to have him leave you alone and then they took you to the settee where they sat you down and told you all about the tour.

But then Adam’s girlfriend came over and they went off on a date, George went out to meet his girlfriend at a restaurant, and Matty was off to his parent’s house to visit them and little Louis who had been missing him loads.

That was when Ross finally had you all to himself, and despite the fact that he was itching to get you in his room, he hadn’t been able to say no to baking cookies with you first.

The same cookies you had made him and his family the day he gave you the potatoes back on Christmas day 2002. It just felt right to choose that recipe in particular.

Ross frowns as he looks at the mixer quickly, maybe too quickly, mixing the sugar and butter together, “Why? It’ll be over faster and we can go to my room.”

The smirk on his face makes you chuckle, and you shake your head as you walk up to him. “Oh, you’re awfully confident,” you tut before wrapping your arms around his neck.

He wraps his arms around your waist and dips his head to kiss you but you pull back slightly, he raises his brows in question, “Thought you had missed me.”

“I did,” you assure, your eyes falling to his lips, but you pull back again when he dips down for a kiss once more. You love to tease him you’ve found ever since you got together at the beginning of the year, and so you do, “But I think you missed me more, didn’t you?”

With that voice of yours, it’s impossible for him to deny it. He fights a groan but lets his hands fall slowly down your waist and lower back to your ass and there, he squeezes harshly as he says, “I certainly did.”

You swallow a moan but the hunger in your eyes is clear and a mirror of his, but before you can get too carried away, you let your hands run down his chest and you pat it twice before demanding, “Okay, stop it. Let’s finish this first.”

“Alright, sweetheart,” he agrees easily.

Just because it’s you. It’s hard for him to be stubborn when it’s you.

When the cookies are in the oven, he tries to distract you with those kisses of his that leave you breathless and needy, but you really have to remind yourself of the danger it would entail if you let yourself fall into your boyfriend’s charms and leave the cookies to burn.

It’s only when all three batches of them are out and on the cooling rack, which Ross definitely bought just for the times you came around and wanted to bake, that you and Ross run off to his room and make up for the time you’ve spent apart.

That’s how most of the days that you’re back together go: either tangled in between the sheets, indulging in each other’s touch and letting the devotion you feel for the other translate in your bodies becoming one, or cuddling as you watch film after film—or rewatching the three seasons of Game of Thrones, which he’s certainly obsessed with, and you definitely tease him about how much you fancy Jon Snow as if he doesn’t resemble him.

You go Christmas shopping together but split for an hour in the middle of your afternoon to buy each other your gifts, coming back giggling as you hide your gifts from the other but definitely try to guess what you’ve got as you go back to the flat.

The best time is when you’re all getting ready to go back to Wilmslow, like a big happy family you take up every seat in Matty’s car and it’s a chaotic thirty minute drive that makes your heart swell inside your chest.

The afternoon of the 24th, it is starting to snow outside and you two are cosied up on the settee with a shitty American Christmas film playing in the background as you go through your pictures throughout the years.

“Ross, look at you!” you coo loudly when you find a polaroid of him with a birthday hat on which is dated June 6th 2003. “A baby!”

He grimaces at the look of his long hair, styled to the side of his forehead and brushed down and straight like a cow had licked it, “Ugh, that’s a mess.”

You scoff and chat back, “No, you were so cute,” before going back to pouting over the picture of him.

He hadn’t started growing proper facial hair yet and he looked like a baby after he had shaved the patchy beard he always got back then. Nostalgia hits you as you remember how cute you thought he was back then and you still do. Somehow, your crush on your boyfriend only gets stronger with time.

“‘Were’?” he questions you with a raise of his brows.

You want to laugh at him for sticking to that bit of your words but swallow it to tease, “Yeah, ‘were’.”

A screech leaves you when his fingers come to mercilessly tickle your sides and you thrash around the settee as he comes to hover over you and continue his attack.

It’s a mix of shrieks and cackles and begs for him to stop that fill the room and overpower the sound of Will Ferrell’s voice, the pictures have all spilled on the floor as you kicked your legs and waved your arms around helplessly.

“Baby, stop!” you beg again and this time he listens, leaning in to press a bunch of kisses all over your face before pulling back and helping you sit back up on the settee.

The two of you start gathering the pictures from the floor then and sorting them through the years. But it is then that you notice the gap in between years, when you had been so foolish to ruin things all because of your bitterness.

The sorrowful words leave you as you flip through the handful of pictures from 2006 and the clear difference with only the few from 2007 and then the lack of them from 2008 to 2011. “So many years with no pictures…”

Ross blames it on him though, “I was an idiot.”

But you won’t let him take the blame all on his own, “Oh babe, I was too.”

He smiles sadly at the pictures but when he looks at you, his smile grows wider, “We’ll make up for it.”

His hand brushes your hair behind your ears and you nod, agreeing, “Definitely,” before kissing the palm of his hand softly.

Your boyfriend’s face melts in adoration and his voice drops an octave as he speaks, “I’m never letting you go, you know that right?”

The stupidest smile tugs at the corners of your mouth then before you reply, “I wouldn’t dream of ever leaving.”

Carefully setting the pictures aside, he shuffles closer to you and kisses you soft and sweet. His lips move on your with the same intent that his fingers dig into your cheeks.

Your hands come over his, wanting to keep his touch there, for him to never stop holding you like this and he confirms that he’ll never even think of doing it when he pulls back and mumbles against your lips, “I love you so much, sweetheart.”

The fluttering in your belly and the electricity that buzzes through you never dwindles, no matter how many times you hear him say that.

Nothing’s been easier and felt more natural in your life than saying it back, “Love you so much more, babe.”

You love telling him how much you love him and you love even more seeing his cheeks tint pink when he hears you say it. He always struggles maintaining eye contact after you let it slip past your lips like he can’t help but become putty in your hands when you utter those three words to him.

And you can’t help but giggle at the effect you have on him.

He basically throws himself forward and hides his face in your neck, but he forgets his size and strength for he makes you tumble backwards and fall on the settee with him over you, stealing your breath away.

He doesn’t move when you groan about him crushing you, he only nuzzles in your neck more and you just let it happen. Having him on top of you is your favourite feeling in the world after all, so you just let him melt over you and you even bring your hands up to his head, scratching his head and massaging his scalp. He moans and groans, getting you all flustered in the process.

You can hear his breathing evening out and his heartbeat becoming more regular, so you know he’s about to fall asleep and you smile at the thought of falling asleep like this right now, but the front door opens and your parents walk back into the house with a handful of bags each.

“Did you buy everything mum?” you ask like you have every year since the potato fiasco in 2002.

“Yes,” she calls back with an annoyed sigh like every year.

But you keep taunting her, “Didn’t forget a thing?”

She indulges you as she sing-songs, “Not one.”

You hum, continuing to play with Ross’ hair, “How about the potatoes?”

Ross smirks at your taunting and shakes his head. But then your mum tiredly answers from the kitchen, “They’re here, who do you think I–...”

The trailing off has you and Ross holding your breaths, and then you hear your mum’s loud cursing, “Oh bollocks!”

And the two of you can’t stop the cackles that leave you.

Trying to speak in between laughter is hard and your mum can barely make out your words when you ask, “Did you forget the potatoes?”

“Yeah…”

Tears spill from your eyes as you continue to laugh, “You’ve got something against them I swear, woman.”

“Could you go get some, please?” your mum asks, seeing that there’s still some time left before the shops close down.

You sigh tiredly but actually give in, “Sure.”

Ross leans in and kisses your lips softly and, unfortunately, very briefly.

“Don’t worry. I got it,” he whispers against your mouth, a hint of cockiness in his tone that makes you smirk and play along to what he’s trying to do.

“Will you take some Christmas cookies in exchange for them?” your fingers continue playing with his hair, but you pout to try and play onto the pity you want him to take on you.

He hums like he’s thinking about it but he settles for something else, “Actually, I’ll take a kiss.”

“Just one?” you question with your brows raised.

He gasps like it’s a miracle you’re offering more than one, “Oh well, if you’re feeling generous.”

Your fingers trail down the sides of his face until you can rub circles on his cheeks with your thumbs, “Christmas is all about giving, isn’t it?”

The words echo inside his mind, and he smirks harder knowing what he’s meant to say, “I guess it is.”

A breathy chuckle leaves you, and he steals it by smashing your lips together. Every time he kisses you, you lose track of time and everything around you loses its meaning. You’re completely blinded by him, overcome by his existence, full of everything he has to give you.

Unfortunately, you can’t continue losing yourself in him for your mum shouts from the kitchen, “Oi! Go get the potatoes, you two!”

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

A/N:  This was actually so much fun to plot but a bit tricky to write, so I truly hope you enjoyed the final product!! Kinda wishing I wrote more holiday themed fics now, but I promise I'll try to bring more of them soon, as many as my heart can take lol. I'll take this opportunity to thank you for reading and sending in your reactions, for accompanying me through this crazy year. Love yous so much and I wish you all the happiest new year!!! MWAHHH xxxx

Taglist: @imagine-that-100 @kennedy-brooke @abiiors @everythinggetsfuzzy103 @on-administrative-leave @ughgoaway @harryssiren @2kwreck @obses-sedd @scarlett-grace-2 @taylorswiftsrep-blog @solitariodecartas @cherryofmydesire @momentum2023 @soggynoodles02 @poisonmedaddy13 @k4tie75

#ross macdonald #the 1975 #ross the 1975 #ross macdonald the 1975 #ross macdonald fanfic #ross macdonald fanfiction #ross macdonald fic #ross macdonald imagine #ross macdonald blurb #ross macdonald oneshot #ross macdonald drabble #ross macdonald fluff #ross macdonald angst #ross macdonald smut #ross macdonald x reader #ross macdonald x you #ross macdonald x y/n #ross macdonald x yn #matty healy #adam hann #george daniel #iliwys #abiior #noacf #bfiafl

[man-im-so-high]

i mean like oneshots/blurbs or like a single chapter, not a whole fanfiction

#matty healy x reader #matty healy x you #matty healy x oc #matty healy x y/n #matty healy smut #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fluff #matty healy oneshot #matty healy #the 1975 #george daniel #adam hann #ross macdonald

[problematticheals75]

soo- we’re writers round here! we decided as a first post for our tumblr to showcase a sneak peak of some oneshot we’ve started up for our book over on ao3! (follow us at jimbomazza_taxi) and it’s for our “The 1975 oneshots” collection!

—

[How Can I Relate To You? — The 1975]

There was a shy kid, someone who hated to be in the main spotlight. Well, he didn’t hate being in some form of glory. It was the fact of being seen, the fact he could show more of his fuck ups if he were to do wrong, which feared this young guy. His name was Adam. His friends, Ross, George and Matty, they call him Hann.

But, he didn’t speak when he was first met with Matty. Matthew Healy the chatterbox, and Adam Hann the somewhat mute. Yeah, again it sounds like some weird universe, or fourth wall break to get these two in conversation. Well, it did take a few coaxes, and a few softer let downs for Adam’s frail mind to finally compute with Matty. Jokingly, Matty wrote a note passing it to Hann.

“How can I relate to someone who doesn’t speak?”

Hann receiving this crumpled piece of paper with the partly illegible jokey comment seems to frown a bit looking down at what Matty had put down, and would remain in silence for a bit longer, just contemplating what to write back. That’s where this block seemed to show, massively.

Matty was just crouched down opposite by this point, maybe on his phone. It was like he wasn’t aware the teachers would catch him, but Hann did have a somewhat cheeky jab in his note back to him, pushing it over with a nudge.

“We’re not all like you Matty, you just have a chatterbox for a mouth.. plus- the teachers will see your phone mate.”

Matty reads this, and places his phone down momentarily, although it was still open on some possible interface of an app, or maybe even his notes as he was known for scribing thoughts down on his phone. “Hann, you’re acting like my dad..” he’d chuckles, but was grinning with the joy at the joke pulled. “But yeah, I guess I’m a bit more extroverted. Probably ‘cos of me not really giving a damn what people see me for. Although, it’s usually class asshole.”

Hann just looks over, and although he didn’t really have a verbal answer for Matty, he did bear a warm smile, showing his teeth. He did feel that although him and Matty showed different in the personality front, that they may bond over the humouring side of things.. and that did open a door up.

“Hann, I do just want ya to know.. you can talk to me. You can talk to my mates too, Ross and George. Trust me, we’re not gonna be like dicks.” Matty seems to softly laugh, watching as green eyes had met to hazel, almost in a loving manner.

“To be fair, I’d like some friends with similar taste, since I’m just obsessed with guitars and seeing you love that too, it seems right.” Adam held the note in hand, lightly fidgeting with it but trying to explain back, and when Matty slowly started raising to his feet from the crouch on the floor, Hann’s gaze cast up again to Matty like martyr.

“C’mon, you’ll not regret it. It’ll be massive for you.” He adds, and that’s when the other was beginning to ascend to his feet as well and give a light smile, despite not being a vocal chirp. Again, a man of little words Hann.

Soon enough, let’s say what Matty noted was truth. By this time, they had just fired up a band, a dream that was shared by Matty’s friends Ross and George, and now by the new notice of Hann. The boys had been friends now for about two maybe three years, and safe to say what the now frontman of their dream career had voiced, sure enough had become true, and that always never failed to blow Hann’s mind every time it had struck him.

Performing at small places at first, Satan’s Hollow in Adam’s home of Manchester, then stretching out to Winslow in Cheshire for Ross’ birthplace.. London and then even eventually across the pond to Brussels where George resided before. The progression, always was important. And this time, during one of Adam’s moments of reminiscing, Ross came over.

“Hey Hann, you alright over there? Having a little daydream this morning?” His voice suffices with a little laughter, as he’d place a hand onto their guitarist’s shoulder, smiling. “You seem like you’re in a thinking state for sure.”

—

(that’s our progress so far! we also have two others already up to read, “In The Shade” and “It’s Not Living (If It’s Not With You)” if you’re interested!)

— also! we are planning to be writing more with the boys and their mates more often in works, but that’ll be in the future hopefully, so if you lot are fanatics im sure you’ll appreciate this :]

#my writing #ao3 #the 1975 #matty healy #george daniel #ross macdonald #adam hann #fanfic

[tonguepiercedanyway75]

Distraction // Matty Healy x Reader

a/n: I can’t believe he’s actually so fucking hot. FERAL for Matthew Timothy Healy

summary: you’re staying at a hotel with matty in Leeds and he has tons of work to do, it’s not your problem he’s distracting you with his good looks

content warning: 18+MDNI, oral (f receiving), handjob, fingering, p in v (unprotected), d-word, begging

────────────────────────

You turn over, expecting to see Matty beside you, but the bed is empty. You sit up, ruffling your hair and letting your feet dangle off the edge of the bed for a moment.

The sunlight streams through the vast floor-to-ceiling windows of the hotel room, casting a golden glow across the plush carpet. This is easily the largest and most luxurious hotel you had ever stayed in. You stretch, savoring the softness of the high-thread-count sheets, and glance at the clock on the nightstand. 10:00 AM.

With a soft sigh, you slide out of bed, your bare feet sinking into the thick carpet. You pad across the room, the remnants of sleep still clinging to you as you enter the bathroom.

You turn on the shower, adjusting the water until it is just the right temperature.

After a long, relaxing shower, you wrap yourself in one of the plush towels, its softness a gentle hug. You take your time with your morning routine, relishing the unhurried pace. Skincare, a light touch of makeup, and a quick brush through your hair leaves you feeling refreshed and ready to face the day.

It’s a hot summer day, you decide to wear your favorite white and oversized muslin blouse with a pair of shorts, not visible because the blouse is covering your upper thighs.

You walk back into the bedroom, on your way to see Matty and maybe convince him to have breakfast with you.

You reach the door to the very large living room area, where Matty is mostly working. You’re very sure he’s sitting in there, doing some kind of work.

Your heart drops at the sight of him. Luckily he doesn’t hear you standing at the doorway, this way you can admire him some more.

He’s manspreading on the couch, intensely focused on signing some photographs.

It’s the all black suit that does it for you. You could shower all over again, feeling too hot staring at him. He’s wearing a sleek, tailored black blazer. The sharp lines and perfect fit adding a sophisticated touch.

Underneath he’s wearing a white tanktop, the cut is low around his neck, the tattoo for his nana peaking out.

Your eyes trail down his chest to his pants, black trousers well-fitting. They’re hugging his thighs, and oh well, the times you spent grinding on them are flashing through your mind.

He’s hot- it is all almost too much to handle. A mischievous smile tugs at your lips as you decide to get a little closer, meanwhile you try to ignore the feeling of your already damp panties.

He finally notices your silhouette, “morning love,” he lays the pen down in front of him, reaching out to you as you gently slide into his lap sideways, resting your feet between his thighs. His hands are instinctively finding your waist.

“Missed you in bed,” you reply, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He hums, moving his lips to give you a quick kiss but you deepen the kiss, your hand finding it’s way to the back of his head, pressing his lips eagerly against yours. “Missed me a lot I see.”

He pulls back and misses the pout that forms on your lips, “have breakfast with me?”

“Can’t, have to finish these,” you roll your eyes as he nods towards the pieces of paper.

“Work is all you’ve been thinking about these past days, enjoy this insane hotel with me.” A hint of frustration lingers in your voice.

He chuckles, the sound vibrating against your chest, “not true. I think about you plenty.” He gives you a pathetic kiss on your cheek, “besides s’ just another hotel, what are you on about?”

“This is hotel is insane, how can you play it cool.”

“I’m not here for the hotel, love, s’ easy.”

Before he can grab the pen again to sign some more you pull it out of his hand and lift your hand into the air. “Haven’t even told me if I’m pretty today.”

He raises his eyebrows, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Apologies from my side,” he tilts his head a bit, “you look very pretty today, thought I don’t have to tell you every minute.” You huff out loud, not thinking he’s serious.

“You have to tell me every day Matty,” you fumble with his white tank top, “I tell you how hot you look everyday, don’t I?”

He chuckles, “you do look absolutely stunning, forgive me?” His brown eyes soften but he’s still teasing and you’re afraid he feels your wetness on his thigh, his teasing tone always impacting you. “Care to give me my pen back?”

You throw it across the room, shaking your head, “take a break,” the suggestive tone in your voice can’t be overheard and Matty gets it now.

“Last night wasn’t enough for you?” His hands land on your thigh, beneath your blouse, squeezing the flesh making you squirm. “Told you yesterday I have work to do.”

You remember last night, riding him on the balcony while he was smoking one cigarette after another and taking you in the shower, making sure you’re pleased enough for the weekend. But you’re not. You’re never pleased enough with him looking like that. You already miss the feeling of his fingers between your thighs.

“It’s your fault,” you scoff and his eyes widen, “can’t expect me to sit still when you look like that.” Your finger trails down his chest but before you reach his lower stomach area he grabs your hand.

“You make it seem like I’m sitting here with my fucking dick out,” he scoffs, “behave.”

“I wish,” that earns you a smack to your thigh.

“Can’t do anything properly with you here.” He tries to pull you off of his lap but it just ends with your leg going over his lap, sitting down the right way, facing him.

“15 minute break Matty, c’mon,” you plead, trying to grind down on him but he knows you too well, gripping your hips so hard you can’t move at all.

“Later baby,” your bottom lips juts out but his thumb is quick to remove the pout. “Get yourself off or some shit f’ you’re this horny.”

He’s being mean but you definitely won’t give up because the burning in your lower belly gets increasingly worse the more Matty talks and touches you. You always get what you want, it’s Matty’s own fault that you’re this spoiled.

You’re not unfamiliar with his big ego when it comes to work. You’re willing to tease him as much as he teases you until he finally gives you what you want.

You pout again, smiling when he rolls his eyes. His grip loosens on your hips and you take your chance to grind your hips one time, whining when he stills your hips again. He hisses, “unbelievable, did you not listen to a word I have said?”

“Please Matty, you have the whole day doing this shit,” your hands rest on his shoulder, trying to persuade him with you touch.

“No, I actually do have a tight schedule,” his hand disappears in his pocket, pulling out another pen, “can’t neglect my work just because you’re up for havin’ a fuck.”

You try to snatch the pen again but he’s rolling you off his lap, signing another card. He’s playing dirty.

You scoot next to him closer, just sitting next to him until your hand finds his inner thigh. He gives you a quick glance but he doesn’t say anything.

“Don’t you want to please your girl? Make her feel good?” He groans at your words. He does. If he could he would make you feel good every time you’d say so and sometimes it ends with him having to bend you over in a bathroom or at the back of a hall.

“You’re a beg, love,” he finally turns to you, “can’t stand when you’re a beg.”

“M’ not,” you know it’s a lie.

“No? Just want to get off then?” You nod and he laughs. Like actually laughs at you. “Too bad.”

You have to change your strategy then.

“So you don’t think I’m pretty right now,” you huff, “unbelievable.”

You cross your arms and try to stand up but Matty grabs your chin. “You’re joking right?” He takes your hand and leads it to his crotch, he’s not fully hard yet but he’s definitely getting there. “You’re fucking gorgeous, love. All the time.”

“Then why won’t you just fuck me?” You sit on his lap. Again, because you love this place, you’re born for it. “Please Matty, only 15 minutes.”

“15 minutes?” He asks and you nod, “s’ never going to be just 15 minutes, don’t act like you’d ever hold your bargain.”

“I will this time, please matty,” you lean closer to his ear, “please matty.” You nibble at his ear slowly and bite your way down to his neck. “C’mon daddy.”

“Fuck off with that,” he groans as you keep kissing him. You don’t usually call him that because he says he’s not fucking with that but you felt him getting harder right then and there. “You’re fucking needy.”

Matty clicks his tongue and has his hand running through his hair while you’re still sucking marks into his neck. “Christ-“ he lost because you’re grinding yourself down onto him and he’s not gripping your hips to stop. You grin into his neck.

“You look so fucking hot Matty,” you whine, feeling his bulge perfectly rubbing at your clit. “Fucking love you.”

He laughs, standing up and you get the hint, wrapping your legs around him. “Flatterin’ me much today? Don’t have to give me shit anymore, I’m gonna fuck you.”

He’s walking into the bedroom with you, hands on your ass, until he’s throwing you onto the bed. He’s removing his jacket and his tank top before hovering over you again.

Matty kisses you, desperation in every move he makes. You run your hand through his hair. Messy as it’s filled with gel. You feel him slide his hand up your blouse and it sends a shudder down your spine. His hand is calloused, rough, but touches you with a sweet gentleness that makes you swoon. His hand reaches your breast, cups it, squeezes like he needs to get his fill. “Want you Matty.”

“Know you do, want me all the time,” he opens all the buttons and slips it off of you, throwing the piece of clothing around the room. “Drives me insane,” next thing which is on the floor is your bra. His mouth immediately latches on to your nipple, pinching the other one with his finger, switching after a while.

“Touch me, please,” You’re begging so sweetly for him today.

“Already am,” he states, kissing down your belly, finally reaching those thin shorts. “Am I touching you wrong?” He teasingly asks but he always wants a serious answer from you.

You shake your head. “Just- touch me here,” you take his hand and slowly trace it to your clothed core. He rubs slow circles on your clit, trying to drive you against a wall with how slow he is. “Here’s good huh?”

“Matty-“ you whine, trying to tell him to take your shorts off because you’re getting frustrated and you don’t even need foreplay anymore.

He slides the shorts and your panties down your legs and also throw them across the room. “Fuckin’ hell, love,” you feel his mouth lapping on the inside of your thigh, “you’re dripping down your thighs.”

You feel his breath on your center, and the minute his tongue touches you, you let out a moan. He works his tongue over your clit, swallowing every drop of arousal dripping down his mouth. You grip the headboard and rock yourself down on his tongue while he continues to lap on your pussy without any care for the mess you made. You are wet and sloppy as his tongue moves in and out of you, up and down your folds while also sucking on your swollen clit.

“F-fuck Matty,” you moan, looking down at where you can see the top of his face, his eyes closed as he groans on your flesh, wrapping his arm around your thighs while never stopping stroking your wetness with his tongue. He holds you tight, keeping you in place, and there is nothing else you can do but buck your hips as you run your hands through his hair and tug on the strands, receiving a deep, rough yet excited groan from him.

“So sweet,” he mumbles, you exhale his name, not being able to find the words or the breath in you to speak as you feel the familiar coil in your stomach. He flicks his tongue over your clit a few times before gathering up your juices and circling back to the swollen bud, massaging your flesh with the flat of his tongue. You feel the bliss swelling inside your body. You know you won’t last much longer.

“I’m gonna-,” you’re cut off by your own moan, you feel the warmth from between your legs surge through your whole body. Your walls tighten as you keep rocking your hips against him, whimpering, moaning, crying out that you are coming. You shiver and tremble above him, tossing your head back, gripping his hair even tighter, and pressing your thighs together around his head.

After licking up all your juices he comes up to give you a kiss, he slides his tongue into your mouth and you moan at the taste of yourself. “What do you say?”

“Thank you daddy,” you whisper, wrapping your legs around him, a whine slipping from your lips as he slaps your core.

“Told you to quit that,” you grin at his reaction, rolling him to his back, so you can straddle him.

He’s unbelievable hard in his pants, in his black fucking suit pants. You don’t waist anytime to open them and dive your hand into his pants, feeling his cock through his boxers.

“So hot,” you say again, pulling his pants and boxers down.

His hips are jutting up into your hand when your hand is finally wrapping around his rock hard cock.

Matty’s head falls back in a loud moan as you finally start to move your hand on his cock. You rub your thumb over the tip, it doesn’t take long for his thighs to start shaking and his hands gripping your hand.

“Gonna fuck you now,” he says, changing positions with you again, you on your back, “s’ what you begged for.”

He comes up to kiss you and you can’t process anything when he’s running the head of his cock over your clit and you’re gasping into his mouth, saying please like it’s the only word you know. 

“You’re so good fuck-“ Matty croons, slipping inside you slow enough for you to feel every inch but quick enough for it to expel all the air from your lungs. Once he’s opened you all the way up, impossibly deep and close, you’re seeing stars, barely breathing. His head drops to your shoulder but now he drags his lips up your neck and jaw. “You’re so sensitive today.”

Your jaw drops as he begins to leisurely fuck you, arms wrapping around his back. He gets deeper than you expect every time, rubbing you raw and stretching you out in the most delicious way. 

“You look gorgeous as ever ‘round my cock,” he groans, looking down at your pussy and the way it’s sucking him inside, encouraging him to go deeper.

“Please,” you beg again, and he knows what you need. He’s reaching a hand down between your bodies to rub your clit. 

You gasp an airy, high pitched curse, hips twitching but unable to escape the near-punishing rhythm of his own. It’s obvious that your orgasm is close, but you can’t even warn him, too overwhelmed with pleasure. He kisses you, swallowing your moans, not wanting the hotel to hear you, which is ironic ‘cause last night wasn’t quieter at all.

No words are exchanged between the two of you as you are near the finish line, open mouths slipping against each others in what is too messy to be called a kiss. Your orgasm slams you, a choked silent scream as you tighten around Matty and he seems to come at nearly the exact same moment—deep inside you, slowly rolling his hips in a few more strong thrusts as he finishes. 

You let out a delayed moan at the sensation of being filled up, still pulsing around him as he comes to a halt, buried inside of you. He drops his head to your neck, and you can feel each breath against your flushed skin. “Satisfied now?”

You nod, pulling him in for a long kiss, “thank you.”

“Not for that,” he speaks softly, pulling out of you and you whine at the loss of his warmth. “S’ my favorite activity.”

He lays down next to you, your head finding his chest immediately. “Sorry for the distraction.” You don’t mean that but you want him to know you do care if you’re the reason he can’t work.

“C’mon now, you’re a brat and you regret it now?” He has a boyish grin on his face, “I can tell you off ‘f I want to, I just- never want to.”

He settles his weight on you once more, pressing a chaste kiss to your throat. His voice is low and gentle as he admonishes you. “Have to work in 10 minutes, that alright?”

You nod and say ‘yes’ because you know you’ll be asleep again in less than 10 minutes and he knows it as well.

#the 1975 #matty healy #matty healy smut #Matty Healy imagine #matty healy x you #matty healy x reader #matty healy blurb #matty healy oneshot #ross macdonald #george daniel #adam hann #the 1975 fic

[wrestletotheground]

gingerbread house - matty healy x reader

christmas prompt courtesy of @abiiors ♡

festive dad!matty

cw: fluff, f!reader, slight nsfw at the start, pregnancy announcement, just wholesome dad matty <3

wc: 1.6k

- december 12th 2021 -

matty dips his finger in the bowl of icing, smearing a dot of it on your nose with a giggle before you can protest. 'fuck off,' you laugh, pulling away and grabbing ahold of his wrists before he can do it again. 'oh, sorry, you have someth-' he reaches towards your face again playfully, before giving up and throwing his hands up in surrender as you duck away from him, wiping the white blob off your nose. both of you are in fits of giggles again, buzzing with pure love for each other.

'don't let me distract you darling, this gingerbread house isn't gonna make itself,' he adds, turning his attention back towards the slabs of biscuit on the counter.

he then realises his finger is still coated in icing. he stands there looking down at his hand, contemplating his next move for barely a second before you reach over and take it in yours, wrapping your lips around his index finger and swirling your tongue around the sugar coated tip. his jaw hangs open as you stare at him with siren eyes the whole time, sucking on the digit that's pressing down on your tongue. he lets out a low groan, biting his lip when you release it with a pop and go back to work as if nothing happened. 'fucking christ,' he mutters to himself, smiling and shaking his head in disbelief as he tries to focus on the biscuits again. 

you can see him out of the corner of your eye busying himself with something else aside from the house; alternating between different coloured icing tubes and guarding his mini creation away from your view. he looks focused, the same concentrated expression he has when he's writing down lyrics or guitar melodies in his studio. 'what are you doing? looks like there's more dilly dallying and less construction work going on over there, healy,' you grin, never taking your eyes off the little sugary jellies that you're placing ever so carefully along the top of the slanted roof.

'oneee second.... bam'. the colourful tubes clatter onto the table and he spins around to face you holding two little decorated gingerbread men. one of them has peaks of black icing on its head for hair, along with thick stripes of white and black vaguely representing a shirt and trousers. the other is in a messy black dress, three curved stripes on either side for your hair and bright dots that match your eye colour surprisingly well.

'us!!' you exclaim, instantly forgetting the task at hand and clapping your hands together in excitement. 'us!!' he repeats, his face breaking out into a grin at your reaction. 'i'll put them right here outside the door, look! it's like they're holding hands,' he says, gesturing excitedly towards his creations.

an idea springs to mind and you put it to action before you have time to think. it's daunting, and you'd be lying if you said you weren't a little terrified of his potential reaction, but it has to be done. you pick up a red jelly tot and place it on the plate between the two figures. your heart races as you do it, knowing what's about to come of the seemingly insignificant act. you'd only been keeping this secret from him for a few days, but waiting for the perfect moment to tell him felt excruciating.

'that's our little baby,' you say in a half-joking tone, looking up at him tentatively. 'pff, yeah, some day,' he replies obliviously, wrapping his arms around you from behind and resting his chin in the crook of your neck. 'matty...' your voice comes out as little more than a whisper, trailing off into nothing. he pulls away and you turn to look at him. he looks confused but grips onto your arms reassuringly nonetheless. 'what's wrong darling?' he asks, voice laced with concern. 'what if i said... that some day is coming soon...' you can nearly see the cogs turning in his head as he stares at you blankly, trying to figure out what you mean. his eyes widen as you take his hands and cautiously place them on either side of your belly. 'really!?' he whisper-shouts, leaning down to you. you shakily nod your head, biting your lip and smiling nervously.

'i'm pregnant, matty' you reply. 

- december 12th 2023 -

bing crosby's white christmas floats through the air from the radio as you sit at the kitchen table with matty and your 18 month old daughter, harper. you'd been having a bad day earlier until matty went out with harper, returning an hour later with a gingerbread house kit and a bottle of wine to cheer you up.

your heart melted at the gesture, especially at the fact he remembered and pointed out that it was two years to the day since you were sat in the same place and you'd told him the most important thing you'd ever had to tell him. from that day onwards he'd been nothing but supportive and loving, always there to help in any way he could and you were so eternally grateful.

'last time we made one of these i was only finding out harper was in mummy's belly wasn't i?' he says, bouncing her up and down on his leg. 'you were, and mummy was bricking it over what daddy was gonna say!' you reply, both of you laughing. casual conversations usually turn out like this nowadays, with you and matty talking to each other but directing every sentence at your daughter, as if she'll suddenly be able to answer. 

she reaches up and makes grabby hands at the gingerbread biscuits spread out on the table. 'you wanna get up and help?' she lets out a little happy scream and starts wiggling as you pick her up from matty's lap and put her sitting on the table in front of you, moving up against her back so she doesn't fall. she's instantly drawn to the bright colours of the sweets and icing, smacking her tiny hands on whatever she can reach.

she's fascinated, scooching around on the table and bouncing excitedly when you reach around her to open the bag of powdered icing. you pour it into the bowl of water that matty had set down earlier and she immediately grabs at the powder, making it erupt in a white cloud that covers herself and the table. 'woah, easy on the icing there baby,' you say. her big brown eyes sparkle in the reflection of the christmas lights as she falls down with laughter, making the two of you melt.

~

the festive playlist drones on in the background mainly unnoticed, but as soon as jingle bell rock plays you and matty's eyes light up. it's your favourite song this time of year, especially now you get to share it with harper. you take hold of her arms and dance with her, making her giggle as you move them around to the beat. matty laughs, taking his phone out to take pictures of the two of you, covered in icing sugar and having the time of your lives.

~

the decorated gingerbread house sits in the middle of the table like a trophy, but the three of you are exhausted after spending all evening on it. 'would you mind putting her to bed while i clean up?' you ask, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. 'course, love' he replies, placing a chaste kiss to your lips before making his way over to where she's now sitting in her high chair.

he unclips the chair and picks her up, cooing at her softly. 'time for bed munchkin,' he says, kissing her head and getting her settled in his arms, her sleepy head lulling over his shoulder. you smile to yourself as he disappears upstairs, footsteps barely audible as he does his best not to disturb her. 

after what feels like ages, you finish up the dishes, throw the towel back over the cupboard handle and make your way upstairs to the bathroom. as you reach the top of the stairs, you hear a gentle voice coming from harper's bedroom. the door is wide open, the only light being the warm yellow of the lamp on the landing flooding through the doorway and the soft pink glow of her flower shaped night light. you peek your head into the room to see matty perched on the little stool by the open side of her cot, book in hand. '..and then, a magical cloud appeared over the snowman..'

harper is lying tucked in under her favourite blanky and surrounded by plushies as he reads to her. her eyes are gently fluttering shut, although she's clearly trying to stay awake, gazing up at her dad in awe through yawns. you tiptoe over as quietly as possible. matty's eyes flick up towards you and he smiles before returning to the story. you stand listening to him, wondering how you got so lucky.

after a few moments you lean down over her and gently place a kiss on the top of her head. 'goodnight angel' you whisper, rubbing her soft cheek with the back of your hand before stepping back and letting matty finish the book. she's fully asleep by now, so he mutters a little 'blablabla, the end. goodnight munchkin'. he leans down and places a tiny kiss on the tip of her nose, making sure she's fully tucked in and covered before making his way back to you. 'fancy a bit of that wine?' he asks, closing the door over and stepping into the landing. 'ugh, you know me too well', you reply, kissing him before moving towards the stairs.

if you could have it your way you'd exist forever in that room, where you finally feel safe and truly comfortable. you and matty's little safe haven, forever <3

~

#christmas75 #dad!matty #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy oneshot #matty healy x reader #matty healy #trumanblack #the 1975 #matty healy fluff #matty healy imagine #the 1975 fanfic #matty healy fanfic #ross macdonald #george daniel #adam hann

[girlwsoftsound]

Shopping Around || Adam Hann Oneshot

Word Count: 2,037 Summary: “Going shopping with Adam!” Author’s Note: I’m alive and posting! I thought it would be fun to remerge with an adorable and cute Adam fic. I absolutely love this one! Be sure to throw in a like or comment if you liked it! I love seeing feedback from you all. Please feel free to read my other work here! Enjoy!

“I hardly think I am allowed in here.”

Giggling, you look to your boyfriend with a soft expression. Adam has always been there for you. He loves following you on every journey you take, staying right at your side to cheer and support you. He also loves hanging out with you during those in-between times, when life does not have a plan for you and you are simply enjoying yourself. Today is one of those in-between days, as you are out and about with Adam in tow at the local mall. Still wanting his close companionship along the way though, you brought him inside the dressing room with you to watch you try on a few dresses. To those outside of your tag-team duo, it looks like funny business is sure to go on because of this. Hell, even Adam is wary of others in this time. He scratches his arm and gazes around the small cubicle nervously. Something about the situation has him distracted from your undressing. You frown.

“Adam, it’s alright,” you assure him. “No one is going to barge in here and yell at you for merely supporting your girlfriend.”

“They will if they think more than ‘support’ is going on,” he mumbles, but you do not catch it. Your eyes are set on a beautiful and shimmery red dress. Putting it on and showing off to Adam is all you care about. Stripping off your shirt, you catch Adam blushing in the corner. It warms your heart, and you throw him a soft smile. He gazes down at his feet.

“Adam, babe, can you hold the dress for me as I undress?”

His face flashes a few deeper shades of red, but he complies. Adam strides forward and grabs the hanger with the red number hanging from it. He waits until you finish dressing down to hold it forward to you. You kiss his cheek as you take the dress from him. A giggle slips from your lips, causing Adam to quirk his eyebrow up at you.

“What’s so funny?”

“You’re so nervous,” you reply. “Look at you, you can barely look me in the eye, silly!”

“Not my fault somebody is being very attractive in front of me in a public space where we’re probably being observed,” he mumbled back, earning an eye roll from you. You get the red dress up onto your shoulders, the straps sliding on nicely. Gazing at yourself in the mirror, you look incredibly stunning. It does not take others telling you so to convince you - it’s a wonderful fit on you. Adam still whistles low and gazes you up and down, impressed with what he sees. You blush. Any assurance of what you already believe, especially at the hands of your loving boyfriend, helps.

“Like what you see?”

“You’re always so beautiful, {Y/N}.”

Your face softens. Adam always knows what to say to make you weak in the knees, even months into your relationship. Turning to face him, you take a step forward and kiss him. It’s chaste, a mere peck, but it sends Adam aflame. You swear you catch a twinkle in his eye.

“Don’t you have dresses to get to trying on, love?”

Giggling, you nod and look yourself over in the mirror one last time before peeling the tight number off you.

“I do,” you reply. “If you’re good and do not complain while I try on the rest of what we brought in, perhaps we can go look at that one pet store further down the mall.”

“You’re joking.”

“Be good and see,” you tease, winking now in your underwear. Adam gulps and straightens himself up against the wall, but he tries his best to keep his mouth shut. If keeping quiet ensured his leaving the small cubicle in time, he was willing to hush for as long as you required.

After three more outfits, you are finished. You decide to keep the red dress from the beginning and a blue blouse you paired with the jeans you already had on. Adam follows you to the counter, waiting patiently as you pay, before taking the bags for you. He follows you like this even outside of the shop, when you stop to buy a candle and browse through a shoe store. Not a word is spoken by him, just as you told him. He plays nice.

That is, until you walk towards Victoria’s Secret.

“Oh, you are not taking me into there.”

Raising an eyebrow, you look at Adam and smirk. “What did you say? It sounds like you don’t want to go see the pets in the pet store?”

The pout on Adam’s face almost makes you feel sorry for him. “{Y/N}, it’s going to be torturous for me. You know that.”

“All those puppies are going to be so disappointed-”

“Alright,” Adam concedes, visibly unsure of himself. He knows he is going to struggle to hold his tongue in this store, especially with you so keenly watching over him. You believe he is up for the challenge and kiss his cheek. He swallows hard.

The initial walk in is fine. Sure, Adam is gripping hard onto your hand, and you can see him bite his lip when he sees some of the lingerie, but he keeps steady. All is well. Further steps however prove a challenge, especially when Adam catches sight of something he’s never encountered before: a bralette.

“What is this?”

Giggling, you walk over and pick out one of what Adam is gazing upon. It is a cute hot pink bralette - not something you would ever get, but definitely not the worst thing in the store. Holding it up, you tease him by shoving it near his face. Adam blushes.

“It’s a bralette, silly!”

“What is that even supposed to cover?”

You pause. “Are you complaining, Mr. Hann?”

“No!” Stumbling, Adam takes the bralette and tries his best to look comfortable around it. It looks more like he’s painfully forcing the emotion, but it’s cute, so you go with it. “I'm not judging! I'm not! It was a serious question! I want to, er, know it’s function.”

“It’s like a bra,” you say, grabbing it and putting it back on the hanger. “You can wear them as bras if you’re not too busty, but even then, you can sometimes wear them. I usually wear them under shirts where my bra would show to cover them up. It makes clothes look fancier.”

Wide eyed, Adam takes your hand and walks you away from the contraption. He thinks he’s subtle, but you can tell he’s trying to move past the incident. Unfortunately, he walks you both right into the panties section - the crack of any girl who likes sales and cute underwear. You hustle to check out designs. Adam, blushing even more, follows behind awkwardly. You smile at him and hold up a pair with puppies on it for him to see. Though incredibly uncomfortable, Adam cracks a smile back.

“They’re cute.”

“They’re an omen of what’s to come,” you say back, winking. His smile widens. “Oooh, look at these!”

Adam’s smile fades instantly, replaced with his blush and awkward expression. In your hands, staring back at him, is a black thong. He’s no stranger to the item - he’s seen you with them before. However, those were more private situations. Seeing you with one in public, knowing he has to behave himself is next to sinister. His hands dive into his pockets.

“They’re um, ehem, they’re nice.”

You grin up at him. “Pick out your favorite color, Adam. I’ll get them along with the puppy ones.”

Adam opens his mouth to respond, but is stopped by a wave of panic as you start to walk away. He grabs hold of your arm just before you’re out of his reach, pleading at you with desperate eyes to stay. You rub his arm.

“I saw a bra I wanted to try on near the front,” you tell him, kissing his hand. “I figured, instead of putting you through going into the dressing room with me again, you could pick stuff out for me here while you wait.”

He pauses, considering, and then sighs - the sign of giving in. You kiss him on the lips and then run over to do what you need to do. Adam looks at the giant box of panties and turns scarlet. He is counting down the seconds until you return and save him from this misery.

Six minutes and forty-two seconds later, you reappear. You find Adam getting told by a worker how to choose underwear out for a girl. It’s one of the funniest things you have ever witnessed, the poor lad trying his best not to show his emotions yet failing completely. After a few seconds of watching, you walk forward and take Adam’s hand.

“Thank you for trying to help him while I was gone,” you tell her, an older lady with wispy blonde hair. “I’m surprised you didn’t think he was a lost cause.”

The lady grins. “Oh, he’s not too bad. The fact he is willing to learn speaks loads for him. When you’re ready to check out, come see me!”

That is what you do. After taking Adam’s contribution, a beautifully silky black thong even nicer than the one you originally chose, you go up to check out. The lady teases Adam a bit more, but he takes it in stride. You believe it’s perhaps because he is nowhere near the large bunch of panties. As you leave the store, he is almost as good as new. You kiss him to congratulate him. He smiles and grins even bigger when you direct your walking to the pet store. The moment he sees its bright red and blue lights, he’s ecstatic. There are no words for his reaction to the puppies playing in the back of the store in a pen.

“I love this,” he says a few minutes later when he’s sitting on the ground in the middle of them. Five puppies, cute as ever, have him surrounded. You have taken to filming the situation, a smile on your face.

“It’s your prize for being so good while shopping with me today.”

“You’re a blessing, you are.”

“I wouldn’t praise me just yet.”

Adam looked to you in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Well…do you have a favorite of any of these guys?”

He paused, and then - “NO WAY!”

Giggling, you nodded and knelt down. “I’ve had this planned for weeks. I know you’ve wanted a puppy for so long, and since the pet store is in the mall…well, I thought I should have some fun with it.”

“You’re the best thing to ever happen to me.”

You kiss him. “Pick our new little friend, babe.”

It is a hard choice, but Adam picks out the perfect furry friend. His name is Pablo, a little golden retriever puppy with floppy ears and a sweet face. Adam holds him in his arms as you pay for Pablo’s new toys, food, and leash and collar. Once paid for, you exit the mall as a group. Adam holds onto Pablo as you both get inside the car, his nose nuzzling the black, wet nose in front of him.

“I’ll never be able to thank you enough for this.”

“Oh, I think I know how you can start.”

Again, Adam is confused. “How so?”

“Well, let’s just say…we explore the use of that silky thong you bought me when Pablo is asleep.”

Adam smirks and reaches to squeeze your hand. “You know what? It’s a deal.”

#Adam Hann #adam x reader #adamxreader #adam hann imagine #the 1975 imagine #the 1975 #the 1975 preference #the 1975 fanfiction #the 1975 fic #adam hann oneshot #adam hann fanfiction #the 1975 writing #Adam Hann writing #adam hann x reader #the 1975 oneshot #oneshot #Shopping Around

[kate-inhaler-1975]

Missy Moo and the Vegas Crew - Matty Healy × Reader

CW: Some inappropriate language. Literally nothing else unless you count dad!matty and cuteness as a warning xx

WC: 2,051 words

A/N: This is my first time posting on here, and I'm not used to this at all, so please be kind, I'm giving it my best shot, hahaha xxx

Finally. Me time.

A solid hour, maybe even two hours, just to myself. To self indulge in a packet of Cadburys Oreo Bites and a glass.....or two, of mine and Matty's favourite bottle of Red Wine.

Being in a hotel room suite wasn't the same as being at home in our shared living room, but it'll do.

Normally, being in Vegas would mean partying, drinking way too much, and maybe renting out a larger than life limo for all of us to get wasted in going from bar to bar and casino to casino....but I guess you could say things are a bit different for us this time around.

I let out a sigh of relief as I plopped down onto the large cream coloured couch in mine and Matty's suite, casting the show I've been waiting for all year round onto the 65 Inch TV.

I couldn't help but kick my feet excitedly like a child when the theme tune of The Great British Bake Off started playing. A childish grin also spreading across my face as I took a lengthy sip of my glass of Cabernet Sauvignon.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing." Matty's tired voice spoke suddenly, making me jump out of my skin and nearly causing me to spill the wine all over myself and the perfectly cream coloured couch.

I felt like a deer caught in the head lights. I felt like a child being caught doing something that they really weren't supposed to be doing.

I was watching our favourite show....without him. In his eyes, that's the lowest of the lows.

"I- ummm- i-.......sorry." I gave him an apologetic smile while shoving 3 small Oreo Bites from the bag of sweets into my mouth.

"Yeah, right! You're not sorry! Why were you going to watch it without me!" He pouted, his muscles flexing as he crossed his arms over his naked torso.

My eyes, obviously, travelling over every inch of his perfectly sculpted body.

I gulped loudly, my mouth going dry from the effect he has on me. After 8 years together, he still has such an effect on me, which is slightly pathetic.

"I'm sorry baby! I haven't had a second to myself all day, and tomorrow you guys are playing the festival and that's another day gone by where I don't have a second to breathe. I was just being really selfish, I'm sorry." I explained, pausing the TV and getting up off the couch to embrace him.

As I shuffled over to him with my fluffy socked covered feet, I could see his eyes scan over my appearance.

To me, I was at my worst. Wearing his oversized navy Nike jumper and a pair of pyjama shorts underneath with my hair up in a clip, my skin breaking out like crazy even though I am 32 year old woman, but to him I was at my very best.

"You're actually to fucking cute, Y/N." He chuckled as he brought me into his embrace, his arms wrapped tightly around my waist and his face in the crook of my neck, while I rested my head on his shoulder, breathing in his natural scent and running my nails up and down his back lightly.

"And you're too handsome Healy." I giggled quietly, placing a gentle kiss on his temple.

We just stood there like this for a few minutes, taking in each others presence for what feels like the first time today.

"Can I tell you something, Gorgeous?" He whispered against my neck, placing a gentle kiss on my collarbone when he stopped speaking.

"Anything, my love. Anything you want, I'm all ears." I smiled, scratching the hairs at the nape of his neck. Letting out a a slightly high pitched breath as he began to suck slowly on my collarbone.

"You smell like baby powder."

Is he being for fucking real?

"Healy, go and shite!!" I laughed loudly, pushing him away from me as he also laughed hysterically.

"What! You do! It's not a bad thing, just thought you should know." He kept laughing, leaning forward with a hand on his stomach.

"Alright, alright! Whatever! Now, are you going to get yourself a glass of wine or what? Because if you don't get your arse in gear, you can go back into the bedroom and I'll watch Bake Off without you. I don't care." I teased, playing with the strings of his grey joggers as I held in a laugh, knowing how he'd react to such a statement.

"Fuck! Go sit down, I'll be two minutes max, baby. Don't start without me!"

He wasn't joking. He practically skidded across the marble tiled floor to reach the wine, nearly falling flat on his face.

He grabbed a packet of Doritos from the snack box quickly as well, and then there he was.

Sprawled out beside me with his legs over the arm of the sofa, glass of wine resting on his stomach, and his head in my lap facing the TV with eyes glimmering with excitement for the new season.

"Ah, look! Didn't know I was on this season of Bake Off." He commented as someone named Matty appeared on the screen. His facial expression showed that he was clearly proud of himself for such a joke as he smugly took a sip of his wine.

"Wow, that was a good one, babe." I laughed, even though it was terrible, but it made me laugh nonetheless.

The more the show went on the more he got into it.

He gets more and more into it every year, and I find it to be one of the sweetest things about him. He gets invested in everything I'm invested in on purpose.

"Jesus, fair fucks to Dan. I couldn't make a cake like that." He sat up straight, leaning forward and staring at the chocolate fudge cake that one of the bakers had made in complete awe.

"Yeah, he's a good one. I really like Abbi and Cristy, though. They're really strong bakers. Oh! And I love Allison Hammond being on it now."

We did our own commentary through the whole show. Both me and Matty nearly wetting ourselves laughing over someone making a lobster cake.

As the first episode came to an end, it was announced that Dan, definitely Matty's favourite for the moment, was Star Baker.

"Yeah! Fucking come on! I'll bet fifteen quid on it that he's this years winner." He rubbed his hands together enthusiastically, turning his body to face me.

"Matt, sweetheart, it's literally one episode in. He could be shite next week."

"Sssshhh, don't say that! Dan is such a lad, he has this season in the bag!" He shushed me, placing a finger over my mouth as he tutted in disapproval.

"Daddy, who's Dan?" A small voice yawned from the corner of the room where the door to our bedroom was. Confused as to what was going on in her sleepy state.

"Rosie? Sweetie, what are you doing up?" Matty cooed as he got up quickly to go over to our three year old daughter, scooping her up into his arms and carrying her over to the couch me and Matty were sitting on.

"Couldn't sleep. Missed Mummy and Daddy." She whined quietly, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes with her small fists.

"Aww, we missed you too, baby girl. Do you have your blankie?" I smiled sweetly with loving eyes at our daughter, rubbing her cheek that wasn't against her dad's shoulder with my index finger.

"No, Uncle Ross has it." She whimpered with sudden sadness at the realisation that the reason she couldn't sleep was because she didn't have her baby blanket tucked up beside her.

Ross probably still had it in his carry on bag after it fell out of her hand while she was asleep in my arms as we were getting off the plane early this afternoon. He picked it up in an instant knowing his mini best friend would be distraught without it.

"Uh oh! We'll have to do something about that, won't we angel?" Matty spoke gently to her as he matted down her messy brown curls with the palm of his hand.

"Mammy's on it! I'll ring Uncle Ross, and he'll have your blankie here in no time, baby." I placed a kiss on her cheek before heading into the bedroom to get my phone off of my nightstand.

He answered the phone in seconds, apologising for not giving it to me or Matty earlier, and promising he'd be there in minutes.

"All done, my love!! Your special delivery is on its way." I reassured her as I sat back down beside Rosie and Matty.

She didn't reply, and I could see the way her eyes fluttered that she was close to falling back asleep in her dad's arms.

Rosie was 100% identical to her dad. From the brown curls to her witty personality and she even had the same freckle/birthmark on her left cheek like Matty.

The amount of love I felt in my heart for my sweet girl was overwhelming, and her looking exactly like the love of my life made my heart burst at the sight of her even more.

"Is she asleep?" Matty whispered as his eyes focused to the right of him where I was, but keeping his head resting on top of Rosie's.

Before I could answer his question, Rosie answered it for me.

"No, no, Daddy. I need to see Uncle Ross first." She protested, but the sleepy drool that was escaping the side of her mouth and onto Matty's bare shoulder said otherwise.

"Is that -"

"Drool? Yeah, she's drooling." I finished Matty's sentence, clasping a hand over my mouth to stop myself from laughing at my daughter's sleepy state.

"It's okay. Only when it's my princess, though, isn't that right, RoRo?" He murmured against her forehead.

It took all the effort in the world and in her little body to nod her head yes, rubbing her head slightly aggressively against Matty's shoulder to try and cuddle into his embrace deeper.

She clearly began to become uncomfortable while trying to wait for Ross to return her blankie, and she was a fidgeting and crying mess.

Clearly, sleep deprived and feeling super uncomfortable because of it.

"Ssshhh, it's okay. Don't cry, baby. Uncle Ross will be here soon, I promise. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere." Matty tried his best to lull her back into some kind of comfort, but there was no hope.

The only thing that stopped her from letting out a large sob was the very musical sounding knock on the door, which I'm assuming must be Ross.

I was quick to get to the door, not wasting a second longer that could be a second that my daughter spent with her blanket.

"Ross, thank god you're- oh....hi, what are you guys doing here?"

Ross stood right in front as George, Adam, and Charli stood behind him, all of them in their comfy attire and wearing sleepy smiles.

"Well, we thought we'd have a bit of a sleepover until Missy Moo gets back to sleep." Ross spoke innocently, a wide smile spreading across his face as he tried to get a good look into the room and spot Rosie.

"Oh, and Matty texted George saying you were watching the Great British Bake Off, and if you think I'm missing out on watching it, you are so wrong." Charli piped in.

I was quick to welcome them in and Rosie was more than happy to see her uncles and her aunt Charli walking into the room to spend time with her.

I didn't bother to explain me and Matty had already finished the episode. I just replayed it without arguing, finding it funny how a bunch of grown men could be so obsessed with a baking show.

I glanced over to my left to see Rosie now fast asleep, her face smushed up against Matty's shoulder that was covered by her blankie, and her right hand holding onto mattys left index and middle finger loosely.

Was this like any normal trip to Vegas that we were all used to?

No.

Did I get to have an hour of peace and quiet to just myself?

No.

But would I change any of this for a moment of silence and selfishness.

You bet your arse I could never do such a thing.

#matty healy #the 1975 #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy x reader #matty 1975 #matty healy fluff #dad!matty #matty healy! dad #ross macdonald #adam hann #george daniel #matty healy fanfic #matty healy x you #matty healy x y/n #matty healy oneshot #matty healy imagine

[cottoncandyitalics]

Masterlist

updated: 10/07/20 (update 05/06/21 the Hyperlinks to this do not work I will try to fix it as soon as possible but I still have all my works up on my page if you follow the hashtags to the specific fanfictios e.g Ransom Drysdale hashtag for the Ransom imagines)

The 1975

Preferences:

How You Met

First Dates

Cuddles

Kisses

He Asks You To Move In

P.D.A

Arguments

What You Do When He Walks Out

What He Does When You Walk Out

Breaks Ups

Voicemails

I Love You

Hickeys

Proposals

Falling Asleep On Him

Nightmares

What Board Game You’d Play

Valentine’s Day

Touring

Imagines

George Daniel

How You Met

First Date

Moving In Together

Panic Attack

Break up

Make up

Anniversary

Day Before Tour

Birthday

Period Pains

Knives Out

Ransom Drysdale

Cooking With Ransom

Is That A Yes?

#Adam Hann #adam hann imagine #george daniel #george daniel preference #george daniel imagine #george daniel one shot #george daniel fanfiction #george daniel blurb #george daniel fanfic #matty healy #matty healy one shot #matty healy imagine #matty healy preferences #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fanfiction #Ross Macdonald #ross macdonald imagine #ross macdonald oneshot #ross macdonald preferences #adam hann one shot #adam hann preferences #ross macdonald fanfic #ross macdonald fanfiction #adam hann fanfic #adam hann fanfiction #the 1975 #the 1975 imagines #the 1975 imagine #the 1975 preferences #the 1975 fanfic

[alovesreading]

Be My Mistake

Summary: Under the influence, Matty makes one of his biggest mistakes which ends up with him losing you. And now there’s nothing more to do, other than deal with the heartache and pick up the pieces. 

Word Count: 7.1k 

Warnings: cheating, use of substances, substance abuse, rehab. 

A/N: Hi!! I'm so excited to be posting this, even though is a heartbreaking one. I had been wanting to write a oneshot based on this song for so long so after watching La La Land for the millionth time one day, I finally felt in the right mood to do it. I hope I did it justice lol. Let me know what you think! Hope you enjoy! Happy reading!

Masterlist

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You were a dream anyone would be too stubborn to let go of, refusing to let themselves wake up and pushing their heads further into the pillows in hopes to carry on with it. But just the same way everyone fails to resume said dream, Matty couldn't keep his mistakes from ruining the most precious thing he'd ever had.

The way ink can't be fully cleaned once it's spilled. The way a snowball rolling down a hill can become huge and fatal.

Matty remembered when it all went down. It had been unusually warm outside, sky clear and enough wind to deem the weather 'perfect'. But it was completely different inside your flat. He felt freezing cold as he watched you crumble in front of him. Your cheeks stained as your eyeliner ran down with endless tears, your nose red and your eyes puffy.

He hated seeing you cry, so he was crying with you. He had told you about the night before, how he had succumbed to temptation and gotten too high to even remember what had happened — he just knew he woke up beside someone else, clothes all over the floor of a hotel room that was definitely not his.

You had asked if he'd lied about going out with his mates, if it had been a regular occurrence and he had shook his head earnestly. The last thing Matty remembered was Jamie asking him if he had ordered an Uber already to get home, to which he had lied and said yes.

His only plan was to stay and drink a little more, even if it felt pathetic to do so by himself. Matty remembered a girl approaching him and making conversation, and he knew he was a tad too tipsy by then. That's why he had found it easier to say yes to sharing some lines of coke and heroin in the bathroom, but after that he couldn't remember anything.

Matty's heart sank with every word, his voice breaking as he recounted the night and blurred images of the stranger and him in bed flashed through his mind.

And you had cried, knowing the only one who could bring you comfort was the one breaking your soul apart. You were desperately trying to find answers within yourself, as if you could figure out his mind about the situation just like you had always done before.

But this time, there was no way you could read his mind. This was your worst nightmare, and nothing could've prepared you for it. You'd never imagined you would be going through all this with him, not with Matty.

Because it had been that for so long, Matty and you.

You had been one of the first talent scouts that had shown interest for the band, and even though the label you worked for hadn't finalized any agreements with them, you had kept constant contact with them.

Eventually you went from acquaintance to friend, and then to a very close friend to them all. Until one day, under the influence of several joints, Matty had told you he really wanted to kiss you. And after that kiss, it was as if your names had been welded together.

You had been there for the other, through it all. Everyone would say how you were perfect for one another, how you were meant to be. Four years you had been together, and you had really thought the same as everyone else.

And Matty thought he knew love, because he loved you, but what did he truly know then if he'd done that to you?

It had taken you half an hour to get all your important things in a suitcase that rolled beside you as you walked towards the door. Matty was still frozen, sat on a chair in the living room, and his words tangled in his throat when you sniffled and opened the door.

"Fuck you Matthew." was the last thing you said to him, and it echoed louder in his head than the door slamming behind you as you left.

Just like that you were gone.

When he managed to gather his thoughts and he made his way to your room, it hit him what he had done. The closet was half empty, the bathroom seemed deserted without all your bottles laying around, your favorite book was gone, no necklaces were spilled on your bedside table.

You were gone but remained in every single one of his belongings, pictures of you two still on the walls, the vinyl you got him still beside the turntable, your scent lingered in the air. The mirror you had picked out for the room, the walls painted your favorite color. You were engraved in everything.

Matty couldn't stay in the bedroom for longer, he felt like he was going to be sick. So he went to the kitchen and called George, praying that he would let him stay over. And he did, so with barely anything in a small bag, he got a taxi to his best friend's house.

The second George opened the door, he broke down in his arms. Panic had settled inside the drummer, as Matty kept mumbling between sobs.

George had him breathe with him, slowly and controlled until he managed to settle down enough to make out what was going on. And when the words finally slipped past Matty's lips and he could make out what he said, he'd had a hard time believing it all.

"What?! That's gotta be a joke innit? You're just taking the piss right?" his questions sounded like a beg, because he adored you both. And as much as Matty was like his brother, he would be fuming if what he had just said was true.

Matty sobbed as he shook his head, "Do I fucking look like I'm fucking joking George?!" he felt defeated as he heard the hostility of his tone and he could only sob harder as he mumbled apologies to his best friend.

George held him as he cried, feeling pity for him but anger was overcoming him at the same time.

Once Matty had passed out on the guest bedroom, George had debated within himself if it would be good to call you. Would it be too much to call and make sure you were alright? He knew the story already from his best friend so he didn't want to know more of that, he just wanted to make sure you were safe.

So George called you and it only took your weak "Hello?" to feel his heart break for you.

He had let you rant to him, and he listened as his silent tears fell. He felt so useless stuck in the middle, fuming at Matty for fucking up something so beautiful and for ruining a person who was nothing but sunshine.

"Please George, I wanna know if I deserve this? Did I do something wrong? Should I have done something different? Maybe I should've gone out with you lot, maybe I should've canceled on my cousin to go along with you. Maybe—"

"Y/N/N, sweetheart, you did nothing wrong okay? You're not the one to blame here, please don't do that to yourself."

"But then why, George? Why?!"

Your desperation ripped a sob from your throat, and it had burned to let it out. George had to bite his lip to not sob himself, he would do anything to take your pain away. He had no answers for you either, and as you kept crying, he wasn't sure what to do to try and fix anything that was in his power.

So all he could do was promise you that he'd keep Matty for as long as he could the next day, so you could finish getting all your stuff from the flat.

And the next afternoon, when the curly headed man made it back to his flat — it was just his now, not yours —, he felt his blood running cold. Your key was on top of the kitchen table, there was framed artwork missing from the walls — the ones you had gotten and were your favorites. Your silly little ceramic decorations no longer sat on top of his furniture. All of your vinyl gone, as well as your vhs film collection.

When Matty got to the bedroom, his knees failed him and he fell to the ground beside the bed. The shirt you'd been wearing the day before, which was his, freshly washed and folded on top of the duvet; and resting on top of it was the ring he'd got you for your fourth anniversary, next to it the locket necklace he'd gotten you for your birthday, the first one you celebrated as a couple.

You never took those off so that felt like a slap, a stab and a gunshot, all at the same time. He had ruined it all, that night would forever be the biggest mistake and regret of his life.

Weeks had gone by and it was like the world was completely different. Making music was the only thing that pushed Matty to wake up in the morning so in order to feel like he had a sliver of purpose, he stayed cooped up in the studio.

The lads were angry at him, they didn't ignore him but he could feel their distaste towards what he'd done. Matty knew they kept in touch with you, having caught fragments of conversations between you and them on the phone multiple times. But he didn't feel any resentment towards them, if he was in that situation, he'd choose to side with you as well.

Regardless, it stung, the way he felt like he had no one.

And that feeling of loneliness had brought him to make another insanely stupid decision: he called the girl.

Kendall was her name, and he only remembered the fact because she had texted him when he was on his way back to your flat that awful morning.

The second she picked up and greeted him with insinuation in her voice, Matty regretted the thought ever crossing his mind. It was too late to hang up though, so he kept the small talk in the most uninterested tone and ended the call right after they arranged a meeting place.

After that night, Matty had felt the guilt wash over him once more. But it was the feeling of someone actually needing him in any way for the first time in weeks, that overshadowed the disgust he had for himself.

That's why he had kept this secret agreement with the girl, because it was the loneliness getting to him. He kept telling himself that, every night.

Matty had lost count of how many times he'd taken the same steps as if this deal had a schedule. He'd go up to the receptionist and check in whatever suite they had available, he would go up to the room and lay in the bed as he cried while staring at the ceiling, and then he'd text her the room number but tell her not to wait outside — he'd always ask her to wait for him at the hotel bar.

The first few nights she had tried to make him laugh as they drank, but Matty had tuned her out and afterwards he just decided to have them drink separately. He'd felt bad for the way he was treating her, but she liked this play of mysteriousness — it somehow got her going.

So he would sit and drink alone now, in the furthest corner of the bar, slouching as he swished his drink around the glass. He wouldn't stop drinking until he'd lost count, and that's when he'd decide to go upstairs.

The singer would usually nod his head with his eyes stuck on her, a sign that meant he was going up and for her to follow after him in a few minutes.

When she knocked on the door, Matty was always smoking on the balcony. The smell of cigarettes followed him as he opened the door for her.

It didn't take them long for their clothes to end up scattered around the floor. The girl was pretty, Matty couldn't deny that, not when his body reacted like it did to her naked complexion; but it was nothing compared to the way you would make him feel.

Even with a hundred layers of clothing on, you'd leave him breathless. His knees got weak at the sight of you, from the very first moment he'd seen you and he was sure that it'd be the same until his final days.

To beat his thoughts, Matty forced his hands to be fast and his feet to take them to bed as soon as they could, so his need for release would scream louder than his subconscious shaming him for his actions. Some nights they'd even do some lines before getting to their main purpose, it helped when he was fully gone, he felt less guilty.

But for some reason that night felt the worst, a knot formed in his throat when he came back down from his second orgasm. Kendall had noticed something shift in the air so she scooted close to him and rested her chin on his chest, but he didn't look at her, his eyes were stuck on the big light burning his corneas.

"You alright?" she'd asked with a hint of worry, but when she was met with pure silence she decided to tease him to get at least a reaction from him. "Do you want a cuddle?"

He looked down with a frown, a smirk was plastered on her face and he wanted nothing but to put as much distance as he could between them.

"No, I don't want a cuddle." his voice was sharp, and she tensed at the bitterness in his tone. "Let's just sleep."

The girl chuckled awkwardly and turned to her side of the bed. He caught a whiff of her hair's scent and his heart dropped when the sensory memory of you came to the front of his mind.

Jasmine and lilies. Her hair smelled exactly the same as your feet.

Matty remembered the endless times he'd grab your lotion and give you a foot massage after a long day of work, and he sounds you'd make from the pleasure of his work on your sore limbs. And how those moments would almost always end in you two tangled up in bed, chanting each other's names as if it was a prayer, like the loudest you'd get for the other would bring you closer to the chance of seeing heaven.

In the past four years, there was not one day when he'd refuse to hold someone or let that someone hold him. But that was because it was you, Y/N. He used to hold you like a devoted christian holds a crucifix to their heart, desperately and passionately — like you were his lifeline. He'd refuse to let go of you, even if you used to stir like crazy in your sleep — he would move along with you with his arms firmly around your frame, and your legs always intertwined together.

Matty felt his tears making a path through his temples until they fell on the pillow. He turned around, his back to the girl beside him, and he forced his eyes closed.

"Can you turn out the big light?" his inquiry sounded weak, his voice was a single thread from breaking as the tears kept falling and wetting the pillow under his head.

He felt her stand up and comply, going to the bathroom and then coming back after a minute. He probably should've done the same but he couldn't be arsed, he hated himself and he had no motivation to do anything at all.

When Matty woke up and absorbed his surroundings, his hangover got worse, his heartache multiplied and he was sure he deserved the title of the worst person on earth.

Kendall was still there, sleeping peacefully like his whole world wasn't crumbling down around them. It sure felt like that to him, like the end of times.

He ran to the bathroom when he felt everything he'd consumed the night before rising up his throat. The loud noises woke up the girl who had scrunched up her nose at the gagging.

"Yikes." she mumbled, rising to her feet and getting ready to leave.

Matty had come out of the bathroom as pale as ever, and went straight for his clothes. He only wanted to leave the room as soon as he could, he couldn't keep this going anymore.

He dressed himself as he thought about which way would be best to approach the situation until her voice interrupted him.

"Where are those jeans from? I love them."

She seemed so relaxed as she watched him, leaning on her elbows on top of the messy bed sheets.

He let out a humorless chuckle, melancholic as he replied, "Dunno, Y/N got them for me."

She shrugged, not caring about who that person was and just as she was about to ask him for the date of their next rendezvous, Matty cut her off.

"Look, this has to stop." he said absentmindedly as he sat on a loveseat to tie his shoes. "You're a smart girl so, I reckon you won't be going around telling this to your mates. Don't make me have you sign an NDA."

She snorted, "Fair enough, this will be our dirty little secret then." The smirk she had on her face only made him want to crawl into a hole and never come out.

Matty shook his head, unamused. "Don't–"

"It was fun while it lasted." she added, cutting him off and jumping to her feet.

Kendall grabbed her purse from the floor, and then walked up to him. He frowned when he saw her leaning in and froze when she pressed a kiss to his lips.

"Thanks for the shag, Matty." she winked and proceeded to leave the room.

The sound of the door closing snapped something inside him, and he went back running to the bathroom to be sick again.

When he flushed the toilet, he screamed. Like he was getting murdered.

Matty truly couldn't care less for whoever was in the rooms next to him or if they'd heard him. He felt pure rage inside of him and he had no idea about what he should do.

He yelled as he cried, tiring himself out until he got a knock on the door and was asked by the hotel staff to either stop or to leave the premises.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." he kept apologizing between sobs, "I– I was about to check out. I need to check out." he said as he walked to the lifts, the tears barely letting him see the way.

Behind a pair of sunglasses he hid as he dropped the keys to the receptionist, giving her a fake smile as she wished him a good day.

Fuck that.

When Matty got back to the flat, he made a beeline to the shower. He scrubbed his skin raw, as if that would help him feel better about himself.

And as he banged his fists against the shower walls, he continued yelling. He was sure he would lose his voice, but the ache wasn't enough to distract him from the way it felt like his heart was malfunctioning.

After changing, he had decided to open wine bottles and let the alcohol lull him to sleep. He hoped for a long deep sleep, but as he finished the second bottle and his eyes refused to close, he chose to call you.

Y/N.

Your contact picture tore his heart apart a little more. Your smile beaming at him behind the camera, you were opening presents in the morning of Christmas day and you just looked too adorable waiting for him to open his present.

Why had he been so stupid?

Matty pressed 'call' and the phone rang and rang, but you wouldn't pick up. He was filling your voicemail up slowly, his words slurred and broken, his voice so rough that he thought he might've caused some worse damage to his vocal chords than he'd anticipated.

He fell asleep eventually, his phone in his hand but out of battery. His third bottle of wine three quarters empty on the floor beside him. And the long deep sleep he had asked for was interrupted by George opening his front door and coming in at around eleven in the morning.

"Matty what the fuck?"

The singer had grumbled, his cheek pressed against his carpet. He'd fallen asleep on the floor.

"George?"

"Why don't you answer your phone?"

Matty sighed, and rubbed his right eye as he tried to turn his phone on with his other hand. "It's dead."

"Fucks sake. Well get up mate, you need to eat something. You look terrible." the tall man frowned before disappearing into the kitchen, Matty had caught a glimpse of take out bags on both his hands.

He rolled his eyes, "Thanks, G. Very lovely."

The reason George was there was because you had heard every single voice message he'd left her, and your soul had left your body from how worried you were about him. You called George as soon as you got a break from work, you sounded so shaken up that the drummer thought something had happened to you.

"I'll go check on him as soon as I'm done here Y/N/N, I promise."

"Just try and hurry please, G? I don't know if he's taken anything–" you had started to frantically breathe as you talked, you were gonna spiral so he interrupted you.

"Hey, hey. It's okay, I'll be on my way in a bit. Stop worrying about him okay? He doesn't deserve to disrupt your peace after everything he's done, that's why we're there so you don't have to deal with it."

"You know I will never not worry about him G... It's like he's cursed me."

George sighed, completely heartbroken at your state, "I'll text you when I see him, I'm sure he's alright. Just take care of yourself okay?"

You hummed but he could hear you were still agitated. "Okay..."

"Love you, Y/N/N. You're gonna be okay"

"Love you too George, thank you."

That had been about forty minutes before George had shown up, but he would not tell that to Matty. He shouldn't know that you still cared, not from him, it wouldn't be good for either him or yourself.

Matty felt like a kid, George was basically babysitting him now: making sure he was eating enough, filling up a glass with water over and over so he stayed hydrated, plugging his phone to charge, making small talk to keep him distracted.

And he felt even more like a kid when his phone buzzed alive and when he unlocked it to show the drummer some demo he had come up with, it opened on your contact. His voice had died at the sight and at the memory of him calling her tirelessly the day before.

"You shouldn't be calling her, you know?" George's voice sounded reprimanding, "You're only hurting her more when you do that."

Matty could only nod, changing apps and showing George what he had meant but his words were long gone and lost somewhere. The drummer had had to scoop things out from him after that.

When it reached seven in the evening, Matty told George he was just going to sleep. He was knackered, all his energy had drained and if he wanted to go to the studio the day after, he'd need a long rest.

So George left him with a lengthy hug and made him promise to call if anything happened before they saw each other the next day.

Matty went to his ensuite right after he closed the door behind George, washing his face and brushing his teeth slowly to then plop on top of the bed.

It felt so big without you, the room wasn't familiar anymore, the place didn't feel like home.

All the lights were out, so the reflection of his phone blinded him when he picked it up. He had ignored the device for most of the day and he would continue to do that, because he was too tempted to call you again and after what George had told him, he didn't want to keep hurting her. You deserved better than the ache he continued to cause you.

Scrolling through his notifications he found himself laughing at the memes Adam had sent him, sending one to his mum that he thought she'd enjoy.

Denise had found out about what had happened, he had called her crying and apologizing like she was the one also needing to forgive him. As any mum would do, she had consoled him, taking a coach to stay with him for a week just to keep an eye on him, but she had also been firm with him, not downplaying what he had done.

She had taken one of her days in London to visit you, at your best friend's flat where you were staying. And you had cried in Denise's arms for hours, as she rubbed your back and kept telling you it wasn't your fault.

His mum was heartbroken for the two of you, she encouraged Matty to find help in regards to his addiction. "A few lines cost you Y/N," she had said and what a tragedy that was.

When he kept scrolling down his notifications, he found a missed call from you. Just one. And that was enough to startle him like he'd just gotten shocked back to life.

He deflated thinking he had missed the ringing of his phone, meaning he had missed the one and only chance to talk to you — maybe for the last time.

But then he caught a voice message sitting on his voicemail. From you.

He played it instantly, his whole body washing in relief at the sound of your voice.

"Matty?" you had asked softly, and he sighed but then you sniffled and he heard you take a shaky breath before continuing, "Hey, erm, I don't know what's going on but I just–," you cleared your throat when your voice broke. "I hope you're doing okay, don't do anything you will regret okay? There's people who can't lose you for something like this."

'There's people.' Not her.

Matty started crying, trying to keep his sobs down so he could hear you.

"Fuck," you whispered, "That sounds like I don't care but no matter how hard I try to trick myself, the truth is I will always care about you. And I fucking hate that." his heart was shattering more and more as you spoke.

"You know... I loved you Matt. I still do." you sighed, and he could picture you so clearly picking at your cuticles like you always did when you were upset and anxious. "The worst part is that even knowing how it all ends, I'd still do it all over again." You broke down after that, your sobs making him sob and it was like you were crying to each other again in the living room as he told you what he had done.

"But I'm gonna need you to stop calling Matty. And I know how hard that is because, despite it all, the one thing I've been dying to do is call you and hear your voice. But please, I need you to stop." You were begging now and you sounded tired, "You have to let me go, so I can heal. Maybe one day we can be friends again — I hope we can."

Your voice had broken once again and it sounded like you had covered your mouth so your sobs were less audible. "Take care of yourself okay? I want you to promise that you will, make me that last promise Matty..." the line went quiet and he would've thought you were gone if it wasn't for your heavy breathing. It was like you were waiting for him to magically say 'I promise' as you recorded the message. He had started chanting it, as if you could hear him, over and over until your defeated sigh was heard and all you had left to say was, "Goodbye, Matty."

He replayed it several times, until his heart couldn't take you saying the final goodbye anymore.

That night Matty fell asleep crying, and woke up barely being able to see from how swollen his eyes were. He had woken up in the middle of the night after he'd dreamt about you getting married, he had hugged your pillow and fallen back into slumber. Until a nightmare woke him up before his alarm, the image of your body cold and covered in blood after you'd been in an accident stuck in his mind as he got ready for the day.

When he got to the studio, Matty made the decision to keep his promise to you. He felt like he owed it to you. So he made some calls and when the lads arrived, they were met with the news that he'd go to rehab.

They had engulfed him in a massive hug, which made him break down in tears. Matty wasn't sure how long he'd be gone for, or where exactly he was going but he was determined to go through it again and fully commit to getting better.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

It had been almost three months since your life had been shaken up. You had moved to your best friend's house for a little bit before finding a place of your own. It was slowly coming together but small things like getting the post always made you feel like this was actually your home.

There wasn't much, a parcel you had been waiting for and a couple bills. You found yourself surprised at a small envelope that was under everything else, it had an unfamiliar stamp on the top right corner.

Barbados, it said.

Your fingers were quick to open it, inside was only a small usb. No note with a name to give you a clue of what it was.

Curiosity was eating you inside so you almost ran back up to your flat.

You opened the door with too much force, causing it to slam against the wall. After making sure the door was intact, you went to your room and hurried to find your laptop. You cussed when you tried turning it on and realized it was out of battery.

You plugged it in and paced around the bedroom waiting for it to turn on. And when the screen lit up alive, your curiosity turned to nerves. You didn't even know why, but you had a gut feeling and those you never ignored.

When you inserted the usb, the only thing you could see inside it was a video named 'dec. 22nd, 2017'.

Your frown was set hard on your face, it was past the first week of the new year already. What could this be?

All of your questions were answered when you clicked on it and a face you missed was shown on the screen.

Matty looked so different. For a start, the curls you'd adored for years were gone — replaced by a buzzcut that he so effortlessly was pulling off —, his skin looked glowy and he'd ditched his usual vintage band shirts for a light knitted sweater. He looked healthy.

Your heart felt like it was going to burst, from happiness and relief but also from the memory of everything that had gone down.

What was he doing in Barbados? Why would he send a video on a usb through the post? Why not email it?

You were so confused, questions flooding your head. Eventually, you just decided to play the five minute clip and hear what he had to say.

Matty cleared his throat, his chest covering the lenses as he was leaning over the camera to press record.

There was a chair a few steps behind him, set in front of a massive window that allowed you to see outside the place he was at, and it looked like the definition of paradise.

"I, erm... You're probably so confused at the moment." Matty rubbed his eyes with his hands before letting them drop on his lap. "I'm in rehab. In Barbados."

You felt the oxygen leave your lungs for a few seconds before you took a deep shaky breath.

"We are doing this thing where we think back about the worst things drugs have made us do to the ones we love and, erm, apologize for them." he chuckled, it seemed in an ironic way. "They had us forgive ourselves first which, as you may imagine, was really hard for me to do. Ever since October, I haven't felt more than hatred towards myself. So that was a challenge."

Matty tried looking into the camera but his eyes didn't know where to concentrate, he just let his head fall in defeat. "This is weird. How do people manage to record themselves and not feel like an absolute idiot?" He looked up, rubbed his face and sighed in frustration.

"This rehab has been so different to the last you know? I've been bonding with this bloody horse– They have me talking to a horse, Y/N!" Matty laughed genuinely this time, and his giggles made you giggle as the start of your tears rolled down your cheeks. "Fucks sake, can you believe that?" You wiped the tears as they fell but eventually gave up when they came faster than your fingers could clean them.

Matty sighed, taking a look outside the window before looking back at the camera. "He's amazing though, you must know horses are great listeners and they are so majestic." his hands were on his lap and you noticed how he'd started fiddling with his fingers. "Gonna miss him much more than I anticipated once these seven weeks are up..." he trailed off and his smile faltered as he came back to his main point in his head. "But, erm, I digress."

He cleared his throat before continuing, "The second part of that forgiveness ordeal was to apologize to those we've hurt. We were told we could write letters, record voice messages or videos. I wanted to write a letter to you but it wasn't– I feel like it–" he paused, gathering his thoughts. His brain going faster than his mouth like always. "I couldn't hide behind words this time, you deserved better than that. I owed you a different level of vulnerable, raw me."

"I started this because of that last promise you made me make to you — thank you for leaving that voice message actually, I don't know what would've happened if you hadn't." His eyes stood stuck on the lenses so it felt like he was staring into your soul. "So, yes, I started this because of that promise and I felt like I owed this to you but they've made me realize here that I owed it to myself." You saw the way his chin wobbled and it had you letting out a sob.

"I don't like how it's always taken me fucking things up to realize what I had." Matty let his head drop as he shook it, disappointed in himself.

"This isn't some kind of plea for you to take me back, you just deserved closure from me I suppose — and to hear a proper apology." You didn't know if you could take that at the moment but you just couldn't pause it, so despite your heart begging yourself to stop for at least a minute you let it continue. "It's too late for anything else, and you definitely deserve so much better than someone who could do that to you just because he was under the influence." The memory stung like a fresh slap, causing a river of hot tears to run down your cheeks.

Matty sighed before continuing, tears falling down his cheeks as well and his voice wavering as he spoke. "I'm deeply sorry for what I did, for ruining everything we had and making you go through something you were the last person to deserve. I ruined you and I am eternally sorry for that." He kept fiddling with his fingers, "I'm sorry for letting something so mundane and stupid come between us, I'm so sorry for not being the person you deserved." Matty started listing all of his regrets, and it felt like a thousand needles to your heart. "I'm sorry for being weak and letting myself break. I've hated myself so much for saying yes to some lines and then seeing it all unfold like it did." His head shook, letting himself let out a few quiet sobs.

"You have to know I regret that night and everything else that happened afterwards, that's my biggest regret in life and I will carry that with me forever but please, Y/N, don't feel like you have to." You clutched your chest like you could somehow bring your heart some comfort that way, the way he was staring at the camera with his eyes starting to redden made you hurt so badly.

Matty let out a shaky breath before continuing, "This makes me sound like such a cunt, that I'm asking you to move on as if I have to be the one telling you to do it for you to actually do it but this is me begging to not let my mistakes pull you down because you're so fucking wonderful Y/N/N." his voice wavered at the end of that, and in unison both of you started sobbing your hearts out like you were in the same room in front of the other.

Your desperate cries bounced off the walls and you felt like your chest was being ripped open again. You watched as Matty looked up at the ceiling and harshly wiped his cheeks, taking a deep breath to keep talking. "You are easily the best thing that has ever happened to me and so I also wanted to thank you."

It was so complicated for you to understand what that caused you to feel, it was like a hug but it punctured your heart that this was the situation he was thanking you in. "You were our absolute biggest fucking fan, going through all of it with us — going through so much shit with me. I'm still having a hard time figuring out what I did to deserve you. I clearly didn't." Matty's lips twitched up in an attempt to smile, as if he was trying to make it a tiny joke but it failed.

"Now, this isn't something I'm entitled to do, I shouldn't have the neck to ask you to make me a promise but I don't think I'll ever stop caring about you, not tomorrow, not in a year, not in this lifetime nor the next. So I want you to promise me that you'll always choose yourself and take every decision that will lead you to feeling the happiness you deserve as many times as possible." his knee started bouncing up and down now, but his eyes were stuck staring straight at the camera and you could see just how pleading they were.

"You know I've never thought happiness was ever a destination but if it turns out to be, then I wish only that for you." his hands fell on his knees then and you saw through the tears his knuckles turning white as he held them.

Matty went to speak again after a few beats of silence but he stopped himself as his voice didn't come out. He let himself stare beyond the camera for a few seconds before his gaze fell once again on the lenses, "I don't think I'll ever not love you, you know? My love for you goes beyond the grasps of time and space, and maybe that's extremely selfish to say — fuck."

He wanted to kick himself when he realized how unfair he was being, just saying shit like that, like it wasn't his fault that it had all happened. "I'm sorry, I just—" Matty backtracked and he stopped himself as the knot on his throat tightened again. "Sorry. I'm still a mess, and unfortunately human."

The tears ran down Matty's face, matching the ones running down your cheeks as you stared at your laptop screen. You felt the urge to reach out for him, to touch him but he wasn't there and that broke your heart even more.

"I don't know what else to say, this introspective shit is harder when you have so much time to think about yourself. I have never been more self aware in my life... Maybe this is what I needed." He trailed off and he shifted in his seat, looking back outside for a moment and smiling slightly at the view.

Matty took some time, trying to gather his thoughts and see if he could form any more sentences that he wanted desperately to tell you but his brain was a tangled mess and he felt awful for making you waste more of your time on him when it was the last thing he deserved.

"Well, I will leave you now, I hope I didn't disrupt you with my bullshit. And, erm, I hope you had a lovely Christmas time, you truly deserve it. Hope George got you that drumming set he promised you back in May." He chuckled remembering the messy lessons George gave you and how he'd promised to give you one so you could practice with him.

Matty struggled to find the best way to finish the video, you could see how hard he was racking his brain for what he wanted to say. He ended up settling for honesty, because that's what you deserved from him.

"I miss you, as selfish as that sounds. And I love you, always, as selfish as that is. Goodbye, Y/N." He gave you a tight lip smile, before he stood up and the frame ended in the same way it had started, with him covering up the lenses as he leaned forward to press the button.

Your heart settled heavily on your chest and it was how concluding it felt that had your head dizzy. A bitter taste on your tongue as you once more looked back at it all and at how, after months, the overwhelming amount of love you felt for him was still there.

Hidden away in the back of your heart.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

A/N: I'm so sorry for that... But I hope despite the heartache you still enjoyed it! Thank you so much for taking the time to read, the fact that I'm even posting this for everyone to read is mental to me. Please let me know what you thought of it. I’ve got more things coming that I’m so very excited to share with you all!! *screeches* okay, thank you again and see you soon!

Send me a message if you want me to add you to the taglist :)

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[tonguepiercedanyway75]

Tongue pierced anyway // Matty Healy x Reader

a/n: let’s just forget about the healing part of a piercing right ;) and I’ve never had a tongue piercing so let’s forget about this as well.

content warning: smut, dirty talk, praise, oral (m receiving), 18+ mdni

summary: you surprise Matty after a show with your new piercing

based on this request

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Waiting for Matty to come backstage has never been this torturous. You pulled out your phone at least 30 times in the last 5 minutes, to admire the glint of the silver stud against your tongue.

You’re very sure that Matty’s gonna love your little surprise, but it’s going to be hard to hide it, before you’re on your knees.

The backstage buzzes with excitement as the muffled sounds of fans echoe through the walls. You shift nervously, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt as you wait for Matty to finish his set. The anticipation is almost unbearable, your heart pounding with a mixture of nerves and excitement.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the door swings open, and Matty saunters in, sweat glistening on his skin and a smile lighting up his face. His eyes meet yours as he takes in your appearance. Sitting on the couch, clinging to your phone.

“There you are, love.” He says, walking towards you, his white shirt open, showing his tattoos and his black trousers which are tight around his thighs.

Honestly, you don’t have a plan. You just down want him to notice your piercing when you’re kissing, you just have to prevent a french kiss.

“How was the show?” You ask, as he settles next to, intertwining your hands, giving each knuckle of yours a kiss before he moves to kiss your cheek.

“Outrageous, the crowd was mental,” his face is glowing, glistening even and the smile on his face doesn’t seem to fade. Making music is everything for Matty and it just turns you on so much.

“It’s cause of you,” you say, starting to kiss his neck, “fans love you Matty.” Matty hums as you throw his shirt from his body.

“Flattering me much, love?” You feel his hand at your neck, trying to attach his lips to yours and you let him. The second you feel his tongue against your lips you pull away.

“You deserve it,” you whisper, dropping to your knees, running a hand over his crotch, squeezing his bulge. “Let me suck your dick?” Matty groans above you, nodding his head.

“Fucking go for it yeah,” Unwilling to waste another second you tug down his boxers, he lifts his hips just enough for you to drag them below his ass and free his swollen cock.

Matty exhales in relief as the cool air tickles his searing skin. You take a moment to truly admire him, your mouth watering as your gaze fixated on the girth of him, his weeping tip flushed dark pink with a prominent vein running along the underside of his shaft. Wrapping your fist securely around the stiff and hot base, you place a single peck to the head.

You drag your tongue up his cock, tracing the cold piercing with. Matty’s head shoots up at the coldness, his thighs trembling. His dick becomes insanely hard.

“Jesus fucking christ, you fucking didn’t,” he says, pulling you from him by grabbing your hair. “Fuck, let me see.”

He groans out, leaning forward then gripping your cheeks as he grabs your tongue and pulls the pink muscle out of your mouth. The shiny ball in the middle glistens in the dim lights. He huffs out a scoff, as his tongue digs into his cheek when you start to jerk his cock, hand squeezing slightly around the base.

“You like it?” You ask innocently and his back hits the couch again, watching you. “Got it for you Matty.”

He actually moans, thrusting his hip up into your hand. “You have no idea how fucking hot you are.”

“Fuuuck,” he groans, drawing out the vowel as a heavy breath. His fingers drag through your hair roughly, gripping the back of your head. You push yourself forward, taking more of him in until he is pressing into your throat, and you swallow tightly around him. “Christ, feels so fuckin’ good.”

As his hips buck upward again, you gag around him, tears springing into your eyes. He moans lowly, cursing under his breath at the feeling of your throat contracting around him. “Don’t deserve you.”

You work your tongue over his weeping slit, enjoying the way his grip on your hair tightens as you pay close attention to the most sensitive part of him.

“Fucking hell,” he groans, his eyes closing at the feeling of your piercing stroking him. “Can’t-“ he mumbles, thrusting up faster.

You know he’s close, the new feeling on his dick completely overwhelming him. One hand of his tugging at his own curls, trying not to cum so fast, and the other on your hair, not letting you get off him.

“I can’t- fuck-,” He tightens his grip on your hair, his hips instinctively thrusting into your mouth as he surrenders to the overwhelming sensation. His release finally washes over him in waves, his body trembling with the force of it as he empties himself into your waiting mouth, and you swallow the hot spurts down your throat eagerly, savoring the taste of him.

"Holy shit," you choke, voice raw, when you pull off of him. You use the back your hand to wipe over your face, stains on the sleeve of your hoodie.

You get up from your knees, settling down on Matty’s lap, “wanna know how it tastes?” You ask and his eyes widen, a grin spreading across his face.

His lips find yours and he wastes no time slipping his tongue through your lips, eagerly wanting to feel your piercing on his tongue and when he does he groans into you. “Turns you on huh?” You tease, sticking out your tongue at him.

“Minx,” he chuckles, slapping your ass, making you yelp. “I love you so fucking much.” You crash your lips on his again, your hands all over his face, trying to hold on to this moment.

“My favorite girl,” he says as your back finds the couch and he settles on top of you but only for a second. “Dinner first and then you’ll get your reward?” He asks and you nod.

“Can’t wait,” you wink and watch him put on his pants again. He laughs, shakes his head and pulls you up. “C’mon love.”

He’s still in shock because of your surprise and you’re very sure he wants you to show him again later.

#the 1975 #ross macdonald #matty healy #george daniel #adam hann #the 1975 fic #matty healy smut #matty healy imagine #matty healy x you #matty healy x reader #matty healy oneshot