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holy-puckslibrary · 5 months

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━ 𝐅*𝐂𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑.

-ˏˋ. 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ˊˎ-

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — FWB!matthew tkachuk x f!reader 𝐰𝐜 — 1.7k 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 — "old habits die hard..." — or, your boyfriend won’t fuck you right, so you run to the one person who always does.

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — patrons know the chokehold this toxic sin-fest has on me and probably always will... in all seriousness, this is one of my favorite things i've ever published and i am so insanely proud of it. i hope you love it as much as i do <3

(spoiler — not possible teehee)

18+ MDNI — content warnings under the cut.

𝐜𝐰 — profanity, innuendo, matthew’s filthy mouth and lack of morals, cheating (not on matty or the reader), outdated/incorrect information about having sex for the first time, borderline too much degradation, some objectification to add a little spice, unprotected sex w a cheeky creampie (what did you expect from two morally bankrupt individuals written by me, a retired whore?), matthew being a noncommittal, possessive piece of shit joking about knocking people up for funzies

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“D’you think you’re so addicted to my cock because you know I don’t give a fuck what you think about me? Or care if you think I’m a Nice Guy?”

Even buried to the hilt—bare with nothing between you and far too fucking close for comfort—Matthew Tkachuk runs his mouth like he’s got nothing to lose and even less to prove. He’s insufferable, his only redeeming quality being the pulsing appendage threatening to split you in half as you buck in his lap.

With your hands braced against his hard chest for leverage, you drown out his grating voice, chasing the white-hot surges, bolts of lightning leading you to the brink of collapse with renewed vigor.

The sooner you come, the sooner he’s gone.

“All I care about, sweetheart, is fucking you good and hard. Giving it to you like the hungry, cockdrunk whore that you are.”

Debonair attitude. Sly confidence. Vulgar demeanor.

Filthy fucking mouth.

You were warned about Matthew Tkachuck. Repeatedly. Warned about him and his complete lack of a filter, about his total disregard for anyone’s feelings but his own. His aversion to commitment, to monogamy, to propriety.

All the things that repulse you about the man lounging on expensive hotel sheets beneath you—as you do all the work—lure you back to him in equal measure. He shouldn’t turn you on, but that’s exactly why he does. He’s all wrong, wrong, wrong.

Which makes him just right.

“I bet if your fiancé walked in right now, you’d just keep riding me. You wouldn’t even notice, would you? After all, you haven’t cum yet. And that’s all you care about, right? Using my cock to get your rocks off because Billy Boyfriend’s too scared to give you what you really need. Lucky for you, I’m not a fuckin’ pussy. I don’t treat you like a fragile doll because I know you’ll take anything I give you—and beg for more. I treat you like what you are, not some chaste little princess.”

You’ve been with Bill for nearly a decade, engaged for more than a year. It’ll be a spring wedding, probably. If the venue pans out, and the caterer finally calls you back with a final quote.

Perfect on paper.

He doesn’t pay attention to you the way he used to. Just throws money at the problem until he can bury himself in work again, undisturbed by you or nagging obligation.

Flowers for being three hours late, a necklace for missing dinner entirely. A trip overseas when he had to go into the office on your anniversary.

But he’s nice, so fucking nice it hurts, and more loyal than the Golden Retriever he wants to adopt after the honeymoon. After you’re settled into a custom-build nestled comfortably in the suburbs and far away from the city. White picket fence, manicured lawn, barely-there speed limits.

It's all so nauseatingly idyllic. So perfectly attuned with what you thought you wanted, what you spent your childhood coveting.

All your single friends are jealous; your committed friends are resentful. Your family loves him, and even though you’ve got a fucked up way of showing it, so do you.

And he loves you too. He’s just busy. It’ll be different once we’re settled, he says. You try to believe him, though not as hard as you should. You tell yourself it's because he doesn’t either.

Bill’s gotten lazy. You’ve gotten bored.

You’re no angel, and never claimed to be. You just want to feel good.

Matthew barks out a dry laugh, almost like he can read your mind.

“You haven’t been since I first got you on your knees at his birthday party. And definitely not after I popped that sweet cherry you were so adamant about saving for him."

Bill doesn’t fuck you. He never has.

He makes love to you. It’s that romance-novel tenderness that got you here in the first place. Slow, sweet, and nearly devoid of passion. It’s so gentle you have to think of him just to come.

How he fucks you.

How tightly he yanks your hair, craning your neck until it aches. How hard he kneads and smacks your ass, bullying the skin until you sob. How deep his cock reaches. And how he takes, takes, takes without forethought. How could you accept a lifetime of only tame rutting in the face of Pavlovian depravity?

It’s awful, and it's so profoundly selfish, but his everything has you in a bind.

Matthew’s everything is ruining your life.

An uncharacteristic wave of guilt and sadness washes over you, and before you can catch yourself, you’re staring down at the engagement ring. The band constricts, digging into your finger like it's out for blood when you glimpse the indentation it left behind on Matthew’s peck. You wince, then choke down the shame lodged in your throat, screwing your eyes shut to will it away.

“If it's bothering you that much, take it off. I’ll keep it safe for you.” —wink— “I can’t imagine the weight of a rock like that, especially one you don’t even deserve. But, if you actually felt as guilty as you claim to, you wouldn’t be this wet on another man’s cock. Don’t play saint now. You’ll ruin the fun.”

You can’t do this right now; you can’t have this worn-out fight. So, you say what you always say even though you’ve long since stopped trying to mean it.

“You keep saying that, sweetheart. We should stop. This is the last time. But no matter what you say, you always come crawling back to me sooner or later because I have what you need. Because I’m not him. Because I fuck you better.”

His words light you on fire. You hate it, but how deeply your body enjoys them is undeniable. How tightly you squeeze and flutter with every degrading line, choking his cock as you use him to satisfy your own perverted needs. How his brutal honesty, his refusal to let you forget your zealous participation in the affair for even a second, arches your back and hardens your nipples.

Even without all that evidence stacked against you, the blitzed-out look on your face says it all. One look at you and everyone would know just how right Matthew is.

“Shut the fuck up,” you growl.

You say it for the sake of saying it. To know, when you curl into Bill's side tonight, that you said something to deny his assessment of you.

But the last thing you want is for him to shut his mouth.

Not right now, not when you’re right there—

“You can’t hide from me, sweetheart, and you can’t lie to me. You can’t fool me, either. I see right fucking through you. It terrifies you—and you love it.”

His raspy voice swims freely through your hollowed-out mind. It unwittingly thumbs through every unforgivable memory, like some sort of pornographic Rolodex.

Matthew’s hips grinding against yours in darkened corners and dive-bar bathroom stalls and poker tables.

His hands fighting against hard-earned sweat in the foggy backseat of his car, battling to find purchase anywhere he can so he can keep rutting with reckless abandon before you’re expected home.

His fingertips burrowing into the sides of your throat, hard enough to bruise, hard enough to silence, hard enough to hurt.

Him spilling inside of you, ropes painting the sacred place white with no remorse or expectation of responsibility.

Matty’s hand over your mouth, urging you to be fucking quiet as he pistons in and out, in and out, keeping you pinned against the bathroom door, against the only thing standing between Bill and the worst discovery of his apple-pie life—

Old habits die hard.

Especially when it’s one that always feels that fucking good. No matter how lecherous or immoral.

Or how badly the betrayal would hurt someone underserving and innocent.

“Even if you walk down that aisle and take his last name, you’ll still belong to me. Wedding or not, this pathetic, weeping cunt belongs to me. But it’s all gonna be okay, though. Don’t you worry that pretty, empty head. I don’t mind sharing my toys. Especially with someone who could never compete.”

You can't compete where you don't compare.

He doesn’t want to be your boyfriend. He doesn’t want to be anyone’s boyfriend. He isn’t the Relationship Type. He doesn’t even want to be exclusive. That’s part of his appeal, no matter how fervently you deny it. He doesn’t want more than pleasure—primal, deviant pleasure—and that’s all you're looking for.

That's all you need.

“Where do you want my load, dirty girl?”

“Inside. I-Inside me, please, Matty.”

“Right answer.”

The burst of warmth is like getting a perfect grade you didn’t earn. Or feeling the cash your sibling gave you in exchange for not ratting them out sitting in your back pocket. It's hard to feel bad about the wrong you’ve done when the payoff is so deliciously worthwhile.

Matthew twitches, still hugged by your sensitive walls, and you shudder.

This is the high you chase every time you bend your morals until they splinter. The still nothingness that lays beyond the denouement, where everything is glowy and the pit inside you appears not-so-bottomless for once. The lack of expectations and obligations. The sheer freedom that stringless pleasure, that sensual self-indulgence provides.

Matthew doesn’t owe you anything, you don’t owe him anything either, and neither of you pretends otherwise.

And you sure as fuck don’t trip on his dirty laundry every time you walk into the bedroom.

“If that doesn’t take,” Matthew flicks his hips in emphasis, “…let me know when and where you want your wedding present, sweetheart.”

You don’t answer. You push his hands away and roll off of him unceremoniously. But he keeps talking.

Matthew is always talking.

“Oh, and before I forget, would you be a dear and let Billy know I won’t be able to make it for his bachelor party? I don’t know why, but I have the oddest feeling that something desperately needing my attention will come up.”

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All of the stories and fantasies written or discussed on this blog by the owner or by followers are purely fictional and are not intended to offend any parties.

©2023 holy-pucks, all rights reserved. I do not give consent for any of my work to be copied, re-posted or translated here, on Tumblr, or on any other platform. Reproduction of any content from this blog is considered plagiarism.

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#*ೃ༄ by holy-pucks #matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk x reader #matthew tkachuk x f!reader #matty tkachuk x reader #matthew tkachuk x you #ratty matty #m. tkachuk #nhl hockey #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl lemon #hockey fic #hockey fanfiction #hockeyblr #nhlblr #hockey boys #reader insert

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trumanblacks · 23 days

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I wish I got my hands on a zine

#matty the 1975 #truman black #matty healy #still… at their very best #the 1975 #still… at his very best #being funny in a foreign language #a brief inquiry into online relationships #notes on a conditional form #zine #ratty healy #ratty matty #george daniel #adam hann #ross macdonald #era: bfiafl

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not-alien-girl-v · 9 months

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Disconnected (Matty Healy)

warning: not smut but it might as well be. mentions of doing the dirty but. it doesn’t happen. you know. also george gets roasted sorry georgenation

note: meow

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

he collapses on top of you, sweat coating his bare skin. a long exhale releases from his lungs as he sinks into your body. you keep your hands on his back, rubbing up and down comfortingly, soothing the angry red marks left by your nails just a few minutes ago.

he hums in contentment and places featherlight kisses to the right side of your neck. you giggle and push him off you.

“what? done with me already?” you don’t say anything, expecting him to just fall asleep like he usually does at the end of your ‘after he gets back from the studio quickie.’ it’s not always like this, your sex life with him, this is just one, predictable aspect of it.

it’s almost like you both know how good he fucks you when you ask for it, that it makes up for all the simple, mundane sex you have most of the time.

suddenly, he turns to his side, propping his head up on his hand, and his silent stare is harrowing. “yes?” you ask him, wishing you could read his mind. sometimes you swear he can read yours.

“can i ask you something?” he doesn’t meet your eyes when he says this, and you can only assume the worst.

1. would you still love me if i was gay?

2. will you help me bury the body?

3. when i die of terminal cancer, will you promise not to remarry?

you’ve just been staring at him staring at the crisp white bedsheets and when he looks into your eyes, you are reminded that he can’t actually read your mind, and your attempts at telepathic communication are feeble.

“sure, baby.”

“ok. i’m gonna ask you, and no matter what your answer is, i promise i won’t get mad. you hear me?”

“yes?”

he reaches out to grab your arm, “i mean it, i won’t get mad, i’m just genuinely curious, i’m not fishing for a compliment or anything, i just really want to know.”

what on earth is he on about?

“just ask your question.”

he sighs again. “who’s the best man you’ve ever hooked up with?”

you close your eyes in a mix of both confusion and a bit of disappointment. “like… character-wise or sex-wise?”

“sex-wise.”

you nod, about to say something.

he doesn’t let you.

“i bet it was george, wasn’t it. i’m sure of it. god, when you two hooked up, he was in his prime. i mean, not that he isn’t fit now, i’m sure he still fucks, but back then… i bet he knew what he was doing. how was it with him? be honest, i won’t be upset.”

you just smile silently as he can never shut his big mouth. “that’s pretty gay.”

he chuckles at your response, still egging you on for a real response. “come on, he’s a drummer, so obviously, he’s got rhythm, and he’s a very big boy, so you know he’s got the size.”

you reach forward to brush a stray curl behind his ear, enjoying his beautiful tranquility for as long as you can, because you know he will inevitably get riled up the more this conversation continues.

“i’m starting to think you just want to hear about what it’d be like to fuck your friends,” you brush your fingers through his hair continuously, and he closes his eyes, nearly forgetting about your conversation.

“you’re changing the subject darling,” he leans into your touch.

“so you’re saying you don’t want to know? what it would be like?”

he opens his eyes, “of course i want to know! we’re all straight men in committed relationships to beautiful women, i may never get the experience.”

you rest your hand on the edge of his face, rubbing his temple in circles with your thumb. “you know, if you ever wanted to fuck any of them, i think i’d let you. it’s only fair, since me and george, you know.”

“it wouldn’t be the same, though, because when you and him fucked, we weren’t together yet, i hadn’t told you i liked you. it would mean too much if i shagged my mates now since you and i are you know… whatever.”

you gasp in amusement, “did you really just refer to our relationship as whatever?”

he pouts, but you know he’s laughing on the inside. “i’m sorry.”

“it’s fine, i guess.”

“wait, you never answered my question!”

“alright. i’ll get into it. you ready?” he nods, looking more prepared than you are for what’s to come. “george was… i mean… it was good. to somebody else, maybe it was great. but to me? i don’t know, we just didn’t mix well together.”

“what d’you mean, baby?”

“like, okay, you look at a guy like that, you assume a certain thing from him while fucking. like you go into doing it with a level of expectations, somewhat high, and he just didn’t meet them.”

“can you be a little more vague? i think i’m almost understanding you, god forbid that happen.”

“fine, fine. truth is, he was too gentle. like you said, he’s a drummer, he’s super muscular, and he’s huge, you expect him to give a rough fucking or even something adjacent to it, and like, i mean, i’m a big girl, i can take it, but every 5 minutes was like ‘are you okay?’ ‘is this too much’ ‘do you need me to stop?’ you’d have thought he was a virgin the way he was so awkward and nervous and gentle. it was weird.”

“that is weird. i never thought that’s how it would be with him.”

“did i ruin the magic for you? now that you know fucking your best friend would be underwhelming?”

“it wasn’t magic, more morbid curiosity,” he speaks.

“morbid? it’s not like we’re talking about fucking a dead body, it’s just george.”

“agree to disagree, my love.” he gets up, butt ass naked, and pulls on some clean boxers from his closet. then, he stops in his tracks, and turns around to face you again. “wait, answer the question, for real this time. i won’t be mad.”

“it’s you.” you speak it plain, simple, and true. you wonder why he even debated the question.

“really?”

“really. it’s always been you.”

“aw, that’s so sweet. just don’t go getting feelings for me, i’m a lone wolf, don’t do relationships,” he warns as he walks out of his room, heading to his kitchen.

the irony hits you as heavy as the new engagement ring on your finger he presented to you a week ago. you laugh to yourself, feeling smitten.

he returns in a moment with a glass of water and sets it down on the nightstand next to where you lay. “drink, darling”

you obey, giving him a look over the rim of the cold glass as it rests against your kiss-swollen lips. you swallow, “you’re being pretty sweet to me, for a ‘lone wolf.’”

he smiles, enjoying the near endless banter between the two of you. “every alpha needs their omega.”

“ew, that’s gross, get out of here, you freak!” you gently nudge him off of the side of the bed where he sits.

he gives you his classic dumb smile as he leaves the room with the now empty glass of water, likely returning it to the dishwasher.

when he gets back, you can’t help but continue his dumb conversation. “i think i’m the alpha in this relationship, anyway. you’re my bitch.”

he nods in agreement, “i’m your bitch.”

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

taglist: @indierockgirrl @itssimpleanditgoeslikethis @milkluvr8 @americanangel

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aphexmaxim · 11 months

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trumanblack

#the 1975 #matty healy #bfiafl #ratty matty #trumanblack

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dontfall-inlove-withthe-moment · 1 year

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Imagine getting humbled by a rat man, I would literally never recover, ever.

#I need him so bad #he can do whatever he wants with me #matty healy #the 1975 #iliwys #i like it when you sleep for you are so beautiful yet so unaware of it #matthew healy #ratty matty #ratty healy

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darlingdesire · 1 year

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STARGAZING

Matty and Y/N are hella drunk and almost have an existential crisis talking about the stars.

Matty and Y/N were enjoying a perfect summer night, lying on a soft blanket in the grass, surrounded by nature. They were sipping on champagne, feeling a little tipsy, and sharing in the joy of each other's company. As the night sky twinkled above them, they were lost in their own world, holding hands and staring up at the stars.

As the champagne bottle emptied, Matty and Y/N found themselves feeling giddy and playful. They couldn't help but giggle at each other's jokes and silly remarks, and their touches became more affectionate and intimate. Y/N snuggled up to Matty, tracing patterns on his chest with her fingertips, and Matty wrapped his arms around her, holding her close and tight.

"Look at that star," Y/N said, pointing to a bright, twinkling light in the sky. "I bet it's wishing it could be as beautiful as me."

"I think that star looks pretty jealous of you, Y/N," Matty teased, his words slurring slightly. "It's like it's trying to compete with your beauty, but it can't even come close."

Y/N laughed, feeling her heart swell with affection for him. "Well, I don't know about that," she replied, teasingly. "I think that star is doing a pretty good job of shining tonight."

Matty grinned, feeling a warm, fuzzy feeling spreading through him. "But you shine brighter than any star," he said, leaning in to kiss her cheek.

Y/N blushed, feeling a wave of happiness wash over her. "You're such a smooth talker when you're drunk," she said, playfully.

Matty chuckled. "Maybe I should drink more often," he replied, grinning.

Y/N laughed, feeling a little lightheaded from the champagne. "I don't know if that's a good idea," she said, teasingly. "You might get too smooth for your own good."

Matty took a drag from his cigarette and exhaled a cloud of smoke into the night air. He offered it to Y/N, who took it and inhaled deeply, feeling the smoke fill her lungs.

As they lay there, passing the cigarette between them, they talked and laughed, feeling their inhibitions slip away with each passing moment.

"You know, I feel like I could stay here forever," Y/N said, her voice soft and dreamy.

Matty nodded, feeling a sense of peace wash over him. "Me too," he replied, exhaling another cloud of smoke. "It's like nothing else matters when I'm with you."

Y/N smiled, feeling her heart swell with affection for him. "I feel the same way," she replied, passing the cigarette back to him.

As they continued to share the cigarette, they talked about their future together, their hopes, and their dreams. They spoke about the little things that brought them joy, and the moments that they would cherish forever.

"I never want to lose this feeling," Matty said, his voice soft and sincere.

Y/N nodded, feeling a sense of contentment wash over her. "Me neither," she replied, leaning in to give him a gentle kiss.

Y/N took another drag from the cigarette and exhaled, watching as the smoke mingled with the stars above. "You know what's so weird?" she said, her voice slightly slurred. "How the stars are just... there. Twinkling away in the sky like it's no big deal."

Matty chuckled, feeling a little tipsy himself. "I know, right? It's like they're just showing off or something," he replied, grinning.

Y/N laughed, feeling a sense of wonder wash over her. "But it's amazing, isn't it? All of those stars, up there in the sky, just twinkling away like they've got nothing better to do."

Matty nodded, feeling a sense of awe wash over him. "It really is incredible," he said, taking another drag from the cigarette.

Matty took the cigarette from Y/N and inhaled deeply, feeling the smoke fill his lungs. As he exhaled, he gazed up at the stars and then back at Y/N.

"You know what's even weirder?" he said, his voice slightly slurred. "We're not just looking up at the stars, we're also lying on a giant rock called Earth, and that rock is just floating in the middle of nothing."

Y/N blinked, feeling a sense of surrealism wash over her. "Oh my god, you're right," she said, feeling slightly dizzy.

Matty chuckled, feeling a little lightheaded himself. "It's crazy when you really think about it. We're just two tiny specks on this giant rock, floating through space."

Y/N shook her head, feeling a sense of amazement wash over her. "It's insane," she said, passing the cigarette back to him.

Matty took the cigarette from Y/N and inhaled deeply, feeling a sense of calm wash over him. As he exhaled, he gazed up at the stars, lost in thought.

Y/N noticed his quietness and turned to face him. "What are you thinking about?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Matty turned to her and smiled softly. "Just how much I love you," he said, his words slightly slurred from the alcohol.

Y/N's heart fluttered at his words and she snuggled closer to him, feeling his warmth against her skin. "I love you too," she whispered, feeling content and happy.

Matty took another drag from the cigarette and blew out the smoke in a perfect circle. Y/N watched the smoke ring float up towards the stars and chuckled.

"You know, if you blow enough of those, we might just attract a UFO," she joked.

Matty grinned, feeling his cheeks flush from the alcohol. "Maybe they'll take us away to their planet," he said, teasingly.

Y/N laughed and poked him in the side. "And leave all our problems behind?"

Matty shook his head. "No way. I need to take my clothes off before I can teleport."

Y/N giggled, feeling lightheaded from the champagne. "I think you've had enough to drink, Matty."

Matty shrugged and took another swig from the bottle. "But I haven't had enough of you," he said, leaning in for a kiss but then playfully pounced on Y/N, tackling her onto the blanket. Y/N giggled, feeling his weight on top of her and his lips on her neck.

"Matty!" she squealed, squirming beneath him. "What are you doing?"

Matty nibbled on her skin, pretending to attack her. "I'm attacking you, obviously," he said, grinning.

Y/N squirmed and laughed, feeling ticklish all over. "Stop it, stop it!" she protested, but she was still giggling.

Matty lifted his head from Y/N's neck and looked at her, her laughter still ringing in his ears. He smiled, feeling a rush of affection for her.

As Matty looked down at Y/N, watching her laugh and squirm under his playful attack, he felt a wave of warmth and tenderness wash over him. He had always known he loved her, but in that moment, it was as if the realization hit him anew, taking his breath away.

"Kiss me," he whispered softly, his eyes fixed on hers.

Y/N's heart skipped a beat as she looked into Matty's eyes. She could see the love and desire in them, and it made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

Without hesitation, she leaned in and pressed her lips to his, tasting the sweetness of the champagne on his tongue. Matty wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close and deepening the kiss.

They lay there, lost in the moment, their bodies entwined and their hearts beating as one. Y/N felt a sense of completeness wash over her, as if she had found her missing puzzle piece.

With the stars still shining above them, they shared a kiss that was soft, sweet, and full of love.

#imagines #romance #fanfiction #fluff #imagine #matty #matty healy #healy #matty healy x reader #matty healy x y/n #matty healy imagine #matty healy drabble #ratty matty #matty the 1975 #matty x reader #matty healy fluff #rare side of matty

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lordofthegoldenflower · 8 months

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Sorry I sort of disappeared, I got distracted. Anyway, this is Matthew. And the front of his jersey. Now I have to finish it and dress him.

#mun things #megan crochets #crochet #fiber arts #i am not the best at embroidery #but it looks recognizeable at least!#hockey fanart #matthew tkachuk #ratty matty

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shit-posting-into-the-void · 8 days

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#oh god oh fuck #So many more songs are about ratty than I thought #But fr I love the album it's realllll good #girl I get why you are using so much mental institute imagery cause WHAT WERE YOU THINKING #taylor swift #i am unwell #ttpd #the tortured poets department #ratty healy #ratty matty #matty healy #joe alwyn #tsedit #taylornation #taylorswiftedit

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looneyfcxintunes · 10 months

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matty healthy & happy on stage at trnsmt in 2023 is all i’ve ever wanted to see<3

#matty healy #the 1975 #truman black #ross macdonald #george daniel #adam hann #trnsmt #i’m so proud #matty 1975 #1975 band #ratty healy #ratty matty #matthew healy

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lila-rose · 15 days

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MATTHEW TKACHUK Blue Jackets vs. Panthers - 4.11.2024

#nhl #nhl hockey #florida panthers #panthers #panthers lb #matthew tkachuk #ratty matty #first he attack #then he snack #om nom nom #himbo™

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abiidrivlikeido · 3 months

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I don’t wanna be your friend, I wanna kiss your neck.

#matty healy #ratty healy #matty x reader #matty the 1975 #ratty matty #the 1975 #ross macdonald #george daniel #adam hann #tumbler asthetic #alternative #lyrics #music #spotify #2014 tumblr #alternative rock #rock pop

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heavenlyhischier · 3 months

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pls wear all black more

#matthew tkachuk #florida panthers #ratty matty

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trumanblacks · 23 days

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#matty the 1975 #truman black #matty healy #still… at their very best #the 1975 #still… at his very best #being funny in a foreign language #a brief inquiry into online relationships #notes on a conditional form #i like it when you sleep for you are so beautiful yet so unaware of it #era: bfiafl #turn big light off #box tattoo #ratty healy #ratty matty

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not-alien-girl-v · 11 months

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need more 1975 stuff 😭

Long Way Home (Matty Healy)

warning: tw matty healy, road head but not what you think mentions of drinking, probably various horrific grammar mistakes i don’t edit my writing

note: i’m here i’m alive i am writing this after getting back from the gym and in half an hour i will be going for a walk. miss you all wish i was more productive and could write more so you all could talk to me more (i’m a whore for attention). i have a huge crush on a guy i met once and idk what to do about it. anyways enough about me

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

“i kinda have to pee,” she shifts in her seat, trying not to feel like a child next to him. it’s easy to.

“can you wait till we get home? i don’t want to have to take a shortcut,” his tone is mildly annoyed, perhaps irritated, but in a loving, fond, ‘i spend so much time with you i’m allowed to be sick of all your complaining’ kind of way. it always comes from a place of love with him, even when he doesn’t mean for it to.

“i’ll be fine, i guess. but distract me. please?”

he sighs out of the corner of his mouth, a stray curl flying off the side of his face. it’s slightly outgrown, his hair, and he’s put it up in a man-bun, as she refuses to call it anything but a man-bun, since that’s what it is. either way, the front pieces are falling out and it’s tied up in the back, giving his neck space.

the sun set a few hours ago, and the sky, once golden orange and red from the dear departure of the star has long since forgotten what daylight felt like, and the moon is the new light shining on city below, like a star would.

he grips the steering wheel. he pulls it left, turning onto a new street, a less busy stretch then the one they previously drove down. he speeds up.

“what do you want to talk about?” he sounds smooth, if that’s a way one could sound, or maybe it’s just in her imagination, but his voice sounds like it’s made for this, this exact moment. maybe not the ‘having to pee’ part, no, but the moon, the street, the city.

he’s lost, not figuratively, but literally. he doesn’t know what street he turned onto but it’s not one in his mental map of this city, but he doesn’t share this with her.

“i don’t know. anything. just say stuff to me. i like the sound of your voice.”

she wonders if his internal dialogue is anything similar to hers, if he thinks in the same dialect that she does, if he wonders about how easily the sky forgets the sun each night, how warm the welcoming embrace is every morning when it returns from rest.

she’s sure, however, that his thoughts probably don’t include anything about how good he looks in a t-shirt. it’s the most simple item of clothing a man can own, aside from maybe a pair of blue jeans, yet she looks at him wearing it, the way he wears it, shirt sleeves folded at his biceps, the way the fabric crinkles and folds itself at the bottom, resting on him perfectly like it was set out with perfect care, like he wants her to look at him like she wants to eat him alive.

maybe he does, maybe he does all of this on purpose, maybe he’s more than just a stupid, stupid boy and he knows much more than any boy should about what a girl thinks, maybe he’s practically a girl inside his own head.

maybe he doesn’t even do it for her, maybe he does it for himself, he always does say he’s sexually attracted to himself, maybe he dresses so carefully in order to satisfy his desire to be attractive in his own opinion.

“matty?”

“hm? oh, right, i was supposed to distract you. um, road head?”

she shoots him a glare so hard, laser beams shoot from her eyes, instantly vaporizing him in his spot, or at least that’s what it must feel like.

“kidding, i’m kidding, love.”

“you better be. i did that once, and never again will i. lucky we didn’t get pulled over.”

“you gave road head?”

she scoffs, “don’t sound so surprised.”

“with who?”

“well, it was before i met you- well, actually, it was after we met, but we weren’t together yet, you were just that guy from that gay band at this point. anyway, remember two years ago, that guy owen? yeah, him.”

“oh, fucking owen. of course it was fucking owen,” he whines.

“yep. fucking owen. so he had this old ass car. it was really pretty, maybe if i actually cared about the car i’d be able to remember what kind it was or whatever. it was red, if that matters.”

“it doesn’t. get to the good part.”

“whatever. so we were going down the interstate, right, because why fucking not? and there was some imagine dragons song playing because it was fucking owen, and he turns to me and he’s all like, ‘babe i’m so fucking horny right now.’”

she feels a pride in her storytelling skills when he giggles at it.

“so i look down and you know, he wasn’t kidding. so he basically begs me to give him road head, right-“

“red flag. leave him,” he interrupts.

“i did. so i start going, doing my thing when he starts doing that thing where he pushes the back of my head down. and he’s getting rough, like he’s getting into it, and i just wasn’t prepared for it so i gag a little bit but i’m fine so i keep going but so does he. he’s got a hard grip on my hair and it hurts like a mother fucker but i’m just like ‘whatever it’s fine,’ then all of the sudden-“

“you puked on him?”

“i puked on him.”

he gasps, dramatically, in a fit of giggles, slapping his knee like it’s just the silliest thing he’s heard all day.

“ok, ok, i’m not done though. there’s more.”

“there’s more?”

“there’s more. so obviously he was fucking pissed, right. so pissed that he dumps me! figuratively and literally dumps me on the side of the road, and we had pulled off the interstate at this point, you know, not just on the side of the freeway, but still, it’s like 3am and i’m alone, in a small pool of my own vomit, my hairs a mess and i’m a mess too.”

“wait, this sounds familiar.”

“it should. so get this, i don’t know what to do, if i called my parents i’d never hear the fucking end of it, if i called my sister, she’d laugh so hard over the phone she’d hang up. so you know who the first person i called was?”

“it was me. i remember.”

“yeah, it was you. and you came in like 5 minutes, you were there and you took me to your place, and that was the first time i had ever been to your apartment, poor george was so confused why you left so suddenly in the middle of the night only to come home with a seriously disheveled looking girl,” she recalls.

he adds on, “he hadn’t even met you yet, had he? so you were just a stranger at that point. and i gave you a change of clothes and we played a billion games of mario kart on the xbox until you fell asleep on me.”

“we were both pretty drunk at that point, keep in mind, me more than you because i pregamed in owen’s car.”

he nods and continues his side of the story, “and you probably don’t know what happened after that, do you?” she shakes her head, wondering what part of the narrative she’s been unaware of for so long.

“alright, so i was pretty wasted too, and i wanted to be all gentlemanly and carry you to bed while you slept. i had a huge crush on you at this point, but i’m sure you kind of knew.”

“i didn’t! i didn’t know at all, that’s why i called you, like, if i’m drunk and alone, no offense but i probably wouldn’t have called someone i thought had a thing for me.”

“i understand, but you know i would never do that. anyways, so i’m up off the couch and i’m trying to pick you up bridal style, is that what that’s called? i don’t know. so i’m going to lift you and i can’t fucking do it, i almost drop you every time and i’m trying so hard, i really wanted to be a gentleman for you.”

“that was when you were in your small era, i remember.”

“hey, don’t call it a ‘small era’, that’s stupid, i was just skinny and i hardly went to the gym. also did a lot of drugs at the time, but that’s beside the point, the point is: i couldn’t lift you.”

she’s on the edge of her seat, the urge of having to pee completely off her mind by now. “so what did you do?”

“i- i fuckin made george do it. and he was so pressed, not at you, at me, because he had already gone to bed at that point but i insisted on it, so i made him get up, do this manual labor for free, taking you to my bed and all, then we both shared a smoke out on the fire escape outside my bedroom.”

“you’re right, i had no idea, i assumed you did it. it was actually one of the reasons i was so smitten with you so quickly, because even as friends, you did so many little things like that, things you didn’t have to do. it’s how i fell in love with you.”

“well, how do you feel now, knowing that it was george the whole time?”

“hmm, i guess i have to dump you, get with george now, since he’s been doing the heavy lifting since day one apparently,” they both burst into heavy laughter, tears beading at the corners of their eyes, and before they know it, matty’s taken a thousand turns away from the direction of their shared apartment, but with her, getting lost isn’t all that bad.

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

taglist: @indierockgirrl @itssimpleanditgoeslikethis @milkluvr8 @americanangel

#the 1975 fluff #the 1975 #the 1975 smut #the 1975 fic #the 1975 fanfiction #matty the 1975 #matty healy #ratty matty #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy smut #matty healy fanfic #matty healy x reader #george daniel #adam hann #ross macdonald

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